Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The penthouse smelled like sugar and vanilla; the kind of scent that made the whole place feel cozy and warm despite the chilly December air outside. Christmas had fully taken over the kitchen, garlands along the cabinets, twinkling lights in the corners, ribbons tied in neat little bows. Handmade decorations were taped to the fridge, mostly fingerprint-covered snowmen and uneven paper trees.

By the counter, Pepper was humming to herself as she carefully arranged sugar cookies onto a plate. There was still flour smudged on her cheek, and her sleeves were rolled up, like she’d been at this for a while.

Just below her, Morgan was sitting on a pile of blankets, happily chewing on a fabric children’s book on the floor. She wasn’t paying much attention to it, too busy watching Pepper bake with wide, interested brown eyes.

Tony leaned against the doorway for a second, just watching them. Then he moved. He reached for a cookie, fingers just grazing the plate when, smack. Pepper gently slapped his hand away without even having to turn around.

“Don’t. even. think about it.”

Tony huffed with a fake pout, shaking out his hand like she’d actually hurt him. Though, they both knew she hadn’t.  “Unbelievable. I live here. I fund this operation.”

Pepper shot him a look over her shoulder, unimpressed.

“And I’m the one making sure you don’t eat half of these before the decorating party.”

“Bold of you to assume I was going for half.”

Before Pepper could respond, a tiny voice cut in.

“Dada!”

Tony turned to see Morgan looking up at him, her entire face lighting up. She kicked her legs against the blanket, raising her arms, her hands opening and closing in the universal gesture children use when asking to be picked up.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tony crouched down, scooping her up easily. She immediately latched onto his shirt with both hands, smushing her face into his shoulder like she hadn’t just seen him that morning.

Pepper turned back to her work, spooning plain white icing into a bowl and adding a few drops of green food dye. She mixed it in carefully before setting it aside with the others.

Tony, meanwhile, took advantage of her distraction to try reaching for the cookie again.

“Put that down, or Santa’s getting celery this year.” Pepper said without looking up.

Tony froze, cookie in hand, eyes flicking between her and the plate.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

After a second, Tony put the cookie back.

Morgan, oblivious to her father’s suffering, smacked her hand against his chest, watching him expectantly.

“Oh, right. You probably want something too, huh?” He reached for a clementine from the fruit bowl, peeling it with one hand while keeping her balanced on his hip. He popped a piece into his mouth, then tore another in half for Morgan.

She grabbed it in both hands, shoving most of it in her mouth at once. Juice immediately dribbled down her chin.

Pepper glanced over just in time to see Tony wiping her face with his sleeve. She sighed. “Gross. you know, we do own napkins.”

Tony shrugged, still bouncing Morgan lightly on his hip. “Yeah, but then I’d have to put her down, and I’d rather not listen to the tragic wails of a betrayed infant.”

Pepper snorted, shaking her head as she grabbed another tray of cookies. “Rhodey’s still picking up the boys?”

“Yep. He should be here in twenty-ish minutes.”

Pepper hummed, focused on her arrangement, and Tony let his eyes wander the kitchen again.

He smirked, surveying the work his sons and wife had done to the poor living room and kitchen. “It looks like Christmas threw up in here.”

Pepper snorted. “Good.”

“I mean it, Pep. There’s a fine line between ‘festive’ and ‘Santa’s personal fever dream.’”

She gave him a look. “And yet, somehow, we survived last year.”

“Barely.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, but Tony caught the way her lips twitched, like she was holding back a laugh.

“Well,” she said, “the boys are only getting older, so you might as well get used to it. Pretty soon, you’ll have three of them making Christmas crafts.”

Tony exhaled, dramatic. “You’re really out to get me today, huh?”

Pepper patted his shoulder in mock sympathy. “You’ll live.”

Morgan, clearly not concerned about her father’s suffering, decided to use his face as a personal napkin, wiping her mouth and sticky fingers on his beard.

Tony shook his head, leaning down to kiss the top of her hair. “At least someone in this house still likes me.”

Pepper smiled, reaching out to smooth a hand over Morgan’s thick, dark hair. “For now.”

Tony huffed, shifting the tiny girl so he could grab another clementine. He peeled it, popping another slice into his mouth before handing one off to Morgan, who took it with an eager little squeak.

The kitchen was warm, filled with soft background music and the quiet clatter of baking trays and loudly closed cabinets.

He set his daughter down, sitting right next to her. She crawled over to her nest to get all of her toys, bringing them back to share with him.  

  -

The penthouse was filled with the hum of conversation between the adults, and the occasional excited squeal from Morgan. The warm smells of home drifted through the air, mingling with sugary and buttery scents wafting around the room.

Tony barely had time to brace himself before the peace was disrupted.

“Daaadd!!”

Two identical voices rang out in unison, and then a blur of movement. Noah was the first to reach him, launching his tiny self forward without hesitation. Tony caught him easily, arms wrapping around his son as he staggered back a step from the force, though he was being dramatic.

Right behind him, Harley slammed into them both, turning the hug into a full body tackle.

Tony let out a dramatic grunt, feigning struggle. “Oh no, I’m under attack!”

Noah giggled against his shoulder, squeezing his arms around Tony’s neck. “It’s us!” he announced, as if Tony didn’t already know.

“Yeah, I kinda noticed, buddy.”

Harley, still clinging to Tony’s side, grinned up at him. “We had the best day ever!”

Tony raised an eyebrow, shifting Noah so he could hold Harley’s hand too. “Best day ever? Don’t you say that like- every day?”

“Well, yeah,” Noah said matter of factly. “Because every day is the best day.” He hesitated for a beat, glancing down before looking back up at Tony with a suddenly serious expression. “Well, only if you and Mama, and Harley, and Morgan, and Uncle Happy, and Uncle Rhodey are all okay.” He said all in one breath.

“Yeah?” he asked with a smile, voice softer.

Noah beamed, nodding, his curls bounced as he moved his head. “Yep!” he said, popping the ‘p’.

Tony squeezed his hand. “Love the optimism, buddy.”

Before Tony could say anything else, the twins got distracted, as six year olds often do. Their tiny backpacks bounced against their backs as they ran toward the kitchen, full of enough energy that you could power an entire city.

Pepper barely had time to turn before they crashed into her legs, wrapping her in the same bone-crushing hug they’d just given Tony.

“Mama!” Harley grinned up at her. “Guess what?”

Pepper, already lowering herself to sit crisscross on the floor, smiled. “What?”

Harley settled comfortably in her lap, much calmer than Noah but still just as excited to tell her everything. “We made spaghetti out of playdough!”

Noah, who had never been known for patience, practically bounced next to them. “And- and our friends Evelyn and Cody were our customers!” He looked over at Harley expectantly. “Tell her about the blocks!”

Harley blinked, then shook his head. “No, no! I wasn’t done yet!” He tugged gently at his mom’s hand, making sure she was still listening. “After that, we had story time, and Miss Emily read The Very Hungry Caterpillar.” He paused, thoughtful. “Noah said it was boring, but I liked it because the caterpillar ate so much food.”

Noah scrunched up his nose. “Because nothing happened. He just ate stuff.”

Pepper laughed, smoothing a hand over Harley’s hair. “Well, I think that sounds like a very fun day.”

Harley nodded seriously. “It was.”

Noah bounced on his heels, suddenly remembering something else. “Oh! And we built the biggest castle ever! It had, like, a bazillion rooms, and then Harley accidentally knocked it over, but it was okay because we built a spaceship instead!”

Harley nudged him lightly. “It wasn’t an accident,” he said matter of factly. “It was an architectural adjustment.”

Tony, watching the whole situation from the doorway, huffed out a laugh.

Pepper pulled both boys closer, pressing a kiss to each of their heads. “You two are brilliant, you know that?”

Noah beamed. Harley shrugged, but he was smiling too.

From the living room, Rhodey and Tony exchanged glances, both men amused by the nonstop chatter.

They all looked up as the elevator dinged and Happy stepped in, looking a bit frazzled. “Sorry I’m late, the lady at the front desk-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish.

“Uncle Happy!”

The twins ran to him, colliding with full force into the poor man’s stomach, and Happy staggered back dramatically before throwing himself onto the floor with an exaggerated groan. “Ahh! I’ve been defeated!”

Noah and Harley squealed with laughter as Happy pulled them into a tight hug, only to immediately turn on them with relentless tickles.

From the doorway, Tony smirked. “They’re six, Hap. How’re you gonna let them take you down?”

“I’m humoring them.” Happy grumbled between laughs, dodging an excited knee to the ribs.

Morgan, still perched on Tony’s hip, watched the chaos with wide eyes and an adorable smile. Then, delighted by the chaos, she let out a loud squeal of her own, little legs kicking against Tony’s side.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony murmured, adjusting his grip on her. “I know, it’s crazy in here.”

Morgan gurgled in agreement.

  -

Somewhere in the mess of sugar and sprinkles, the twins had abandoned their little dinosaur themed backpacks and climbed up onto the stools at the kitchen island, eyes locked onto the cookie decorating setup like it was the most exciting thing they’d ever seen.

Tony, still standing in the doorway with Morgan balanced on his hip, watched as Noah grabbed a kid-friendly butter knife, slathered it with blue icing, licked it clean, and then, without a second thought, stuck it right back in the bowl.

Tony grimaced. “Oh my god.”

Morgan, watching her brothers, pointed at Noah, and squawked.

“Yeah, kid, I know.” Tony muttered. “They’re animals.”

Pepper, still helping Harley with his cookies, glanced up just in time to see Noah do it again. She sighed, already reaching for the contaminated bowl.

Tony smirked. “Good luck with that one.”

She shot him an annoyed glare, promptly making him shut his mouth.

The twins, oblivious to the looks being shot over their heads, were already deep in discussion about whether or not their snowman cookies needed more sprinkles. (Noah said yes. Harley said moderation was key.)

Morgan let out another happy squeak, watching them with attention.

Tony shifted her higher on his hip, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

For all the noise, for all the chaos, for all the flour that was definitely going to need to be cleaned later, this was home.

And Tony wouldn’t trade it for the world.

  -

Noah carefully piped the last icing details on his cookie, tilting his head as he considered his messy masterpiece. A perfect snowman. Well, as perfect as a six-year-old with a lack of attention span could make. Satisfied, he licked a stray bit of icing off his thumb (earning a look from Pepper, who had long since given up on trying to enforce proper kitchen etiquette) and pushed his stool back.

Hopping down, he wiped his hands on his jeans (again, earning another look) and made his way toward the sink. But just as he reached for the faucet, something else caught his eye.

Happy was leaning against the counter, phone in one hand, the other resting casually in his pocket. His face was set in his usual, no-nonsense expression, but Noah knew better. Happy wasn’t actually grumpy or mean, well, sometimes he was, but mostly he was just Happy in a grumpy way.

And right now, he was distracted.

A slow, mischievous grin spread across the young boy’s face.

He walked up to Happy, tapping his elbow to get his attention.

Happy looked down, pocketing his phone as soon as he saw the kid standing there with a suspiciously innocent expression. “Yeah, kid?”

Noah didn’t answer, just grinned. And not his normal, happy kind of grin. No, this was an evil grin.

Immediately, Happy’s eyes narrowed. Suspicious.

“Noah…” he warned, shifting slightly, as if preparing for whatever this clearly was.

But before he could react, a tiny hand shot forward, and suddenly, his nose was covered in blue icing.

Happy blinked, and Noah giggled, clapping both hands over his mouth, eyes wide with delight at his own boldness.

“You little-”

Noah let out a delighted shriek and bolted, feet pounding loudly against the floor as he ran.

Happy was after him in seconds. “Oh, you messed up now, little Stark!”

Noah squealed, weaving between furniture like a kid who definitely did this kind of thing often. He darted around the kitchen island, then made a break for the couch, hoping to launch himself over the armrest.

He didn’t make it.

Happy caught him mid-dive, scooping him up effortlessly and spinning him around before dropping him onto the couch.

Noah barely had time to take a breath before a tickle attack.

“No- no! Happy!” Noah shrieked, between giggles, kicking his legs and squirming wildly.

“What’s that?” Happy smirked, fingers dancing against his ribs. “Can’t hear you over all this revenge.”

Noah’s giggles turned into full-blown laughter, breathless and uncontrollable. “Noooo! No more! I’m sorry!”

“Oh, now you’re sorry?” Happy teased, but he slowed down, finally letting the kid catch his breath.

Noah gasped dramatically, sprawling across the couch like he’d just barely survived. “That was so mean.”

“You started it.” Happy pointed out. Noah grinned up at him, still giggling. “It was worth it.”

Happy rolled his eyes but ruffled the kid’s curls, smudging a bit of leftover icing into his hair just for good measure. Noah yelped. “Hey!!”

Happy smirked. “Payback.” Noah pouted for all of two seconds before perking back up. “I’m gonna get you back.” Happy huffed out a laugh. “You wish, kid.”

Across the room, Tony, who had been watching the entire thing unfold from the kitchen, shook his head. “You both are menaces.”

Happy shrugged. “Yeah, well. He started it.”

Tony smirked. “And yet you’re the one with icing on your face.”

Happy scowled. Noah cackled evilly.

  -

Harley took his time washing the sticky icing off his hands, scrubbing between his fingers just like Pepper always reminded him. Once satisfied, he dried them on the towel, then made his way to his and Noah’s shared bedroom.

He wasn’t as much of a running, jumping, crashing into things kind of kid as Noah was. Not that he never got loud or excited, he was six, after all, but he liked things a little quieter. A little slower.

He pulled open his dresser and swapped his icing speckled shirt for a clean one, then pattered over to his bookshelf. He scanned the spines, before carefully picking out three books. One was his current favorite, story about a fox who got lost in a snowstorm but found his way home. Another was a picture book about space that his dad had given him. And the last one… well, he wasn’t sure which one he wanted yet, so he grabbed an extra just in case.

Tucking them under his arm, he made his way back into the living room.

The room was warm and cozy, the glow of Christmas lights casting soft colors across the furniture. The smell of cookies still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of Pepper’s cinnamon candle.

Everyone was sprawled across the couch, clearly trying to calm down from the chaos of the past couple hours. The Grinch was playing on the TV, but it seemed like only half the people in the room were actually awake.

Noah was curled up in a blanket at one end, his eyes drooping as he half-watched the screen. Morgan was fast asleep on Pepper’s lap, her tiny fist gripping the fabric of her mom’s sweater. Pepper was absentmindedly running her fingers through the baby’s soft, short hair, her own eyelids heavy. Even Happy, sitting in the armchair, looked like he was debating whether or not to doze off.

Harley stood in the doorway, trying to decide where to sit, when his dad looked up at him.

Tony lifted his left arm, wordlessly inviting him over. Harley didn’t hesitate after that.

He pattered across the room and curled up against Tony’s side, fitting perfectly in the space like it was made just for him. His dad’s arm settled comfortably around him, warm and strong.

For a few minutes, Harley just sat there, breathing in the quiet, the whole movie night atmosphere even making him sleepy.

Then Tony glanced down, noticing the books in his lap. “Whatcha got there, bud?”

Harley shifted slightly, holding up the book about the fox. “This one’s my favorite.”

Tony hummed, reaching over to flip the cover open with his free hand. “Yeah? What’s it about?”

Harley settled in a little more, already prepared to tell him everything. “It's about a little fox, and he lives in the forest, but one day there’s this huge snowstorm, and he can’t find his way home…”

Tony listened, nodding along, offering the occasional ‘Mhm’ and ‘No way’ at all the right pauses. Harley didn’t even need him to say much, just knowing his dad was listening, made him feel content and loved.

By the time he got to the part where the fox finally made it home, Harley’s voice had gotten softer, sleepier.

Tony nudged him lightly. “You tired, bud?”

Harley blinked up at him. “No..” He yawned.

Tony smirked, pulling the blanket over him a little more. “Mhm.”

Harley felt his dad’s fingers run through his hair, and suddenly, his eyelids felt a whole lot heavier.

The Grinch’s voice droned softly from the TV. The Christmas lights twinkled in the corners of his vision, the heavy weight of his dad’s warm arm over him.

  -

Harley blinked sleepily at the screen, but something felt off. It took him a second to realize what it was, and when he did, he realized that his uncle Rhodey wasn’t there.

He frowned slightly, shifting against his dad’s side. Maybe Rhodey was just in the kitchen grabbing a snack. Or in the bathroom.

But still. It didn’t feel right for the whole family to be curled up watching a movie while Uncle Rhodey was somewhere else, all alone.

Determined, Harley quietly slipped off the couch, careful not to wake Morgan, who was still dozing on Pepper’s lap. He hugged his books to his chest as he padded toward the hallway, glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody tried to stop him.

Not that they would. He wasn’t doing anything bad. He was just… checking. He peeked into the kitchen first. Empty. Then he tiptoed to his and Noah’s bedroom, pushing the door open just enough to see inside. No Rhodey. Maybe he was in Mom and Dad’s room?

He was just about to go check when he heard the quiet click of a door opening.

He turned to see Rhodey stepping out of Tony’s office, looking slightly surprised to find his pajama clad nephew standing in the hallway like he was on a mission.

Rhodes’ gaze flicked down to the three books of differing sizes and colors clutched tightly in Harley’s little arms. He smiled.

“What are you doin’ out here, bud?” He asked, crouching down to be at the boy’s level. “Why aren’t you watching the movie with everyone else?”

Harley walked straight up to him and, without hesitation, took Rhodey’s much bigger hand in his own.

“I didn’t want you to be alone.” Harley said simply. Adorably.

Rhodey blinked, warmth exploding in his heart at the sweetness and innocence from the kid. He didn’t even seem to realize how adorable that was. Rhodes allowed a smile to spread across his face.

Harley tugged at his hand. “Come sit with me?”

Rhodey let himself be pulled toward the office couch, his heart already melting. “Alright, alright, I’m comin’.”

Harley’s eyes lit up, and he quickly climbed onto the couch, making himself comfortable as Rhodey sat beside him. The kid was small enough that he easily curled up against his side, just like he’d been doing with his dad just a few minutes ago.

Harley shifted, then held up one of his books, grinning. “Will you read with me?”

And, really, how was Rhodey supposed to say no to that face?

He huffed a little laugh, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, kid. I’ll read with you.”

Harley beamed and eagerly handed him the first book, the one about the fox.

“This one’s my favorite.” Harley whispered with a smile, like it was a special secret.

Rhodey smiled, flipping open to the first page. “Good choice.”

And so, for the next half hour, they sat together on the little leather couch in Tony’s office, reading one book after another. Harley listening intently, snuggled close as Rhodey read aloud, his voice calm and the rumble of it, his ear on the man’s chest made him sleepy.

By the time they reached the final page of the last book, Harley’s blinks were getting slower, his grip on the edges of the worn pages loosening.

Rhodey glanced down to find the kid barely keeping his eyes open, his head resting against Rhodes’ arm.

“Hey,” Rhodey murmured, nudging him lightly. “You still with me, little man?”

Harley hummed sleepily, “Mhm, thanks for reading with me.”

Rhodey smiled. “Yeah, kid, anytime.”

He let the kid rest there for a bit longer, just until his breathing evened out, then carefully scooped him up.

Harley barely stirred as Rhodey carried him back to the living room, tucking him into the corner of the couch where he fit perfectly between Tony and Pepper.

Noah peeked sleepily from under his blanket, saw Harley snuggled safely between their parents, and put his head back where it was, before drifting off again.

Rhodey smiled, giving Harley’s hair a quick, gentle ruffle before settling into the armchair to watch the rest of the movie, the only one left still conscious was Tony, who gave him a knowing, teasing smirk.

Rhodes just returned it with a playful glare of his own.

  -

Tony stretched his arms over his head, feeling a satisfying pop in his spine as he pushed himself up from the couch. The movie was still playing, though the only person actually paying attention to it seemed to be Pepper. She hadn’t moved from her spot, eyes fixed on the screen, very focused. She’d put Morgan in her bed a little bit ago.

Noah, on the other hand, was out.

Tony huffed a quiet laugh when he spotted his kid curled up against Happy’s side, mouth slightly open, completely dead to the world. What made it even better, was that Happy was asleep too.

His head was tilted back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest, but one of those arms was suspiciously not crossed, because Noah had somehow managed to tangle himself into Happy’s jacket, tiny fingers gripping the fabric even in his sleep.

Tony smirked as he reached for his phone and snapped a quick picture. Who knows? Could be used for blackmail later.

Happy always put on a grumpy face, acting like he just tolerated the twins’ endless energy, but everyone knew better. The man was a total softie for those two. It was adorable that the man, who looked so tough on the outside, was really just a fluffy little teddy bear to his best friend’s three kids.

Tony pocketed his phone, shaking his head fondly, and turned toward the kitchen. Hot chocolate. That was the plan.

But as he reached for the mugs, he noticed that Rhodey and Harley were missing. His brows furrowed slightly.

They had been there when the movie started, Harley curled up against his side, Rhodey sitting in the armchair. But now they were gone?

Tony poked his head into the dining room. Nothing. Then he checked the twins’ room. Empty. Morgan’s room?

He cracked the door open just enough to see her tiny form curled up under her blanket, snoozing peacefully in her crib.

So where could they be? Then he heard voices coming from his office, and Tony raised an eyebrow.

Rhodey had gone in there earlier to grab something off his desk, some papers or whatever. But that had been forever ago.

What was he still doing in there?

Curious, Tony made his way down the hall and poked his head inside and saw his best friend, Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, decorated Air Force officer, was currently sitting on Tony’s office couch, holding a children’s book at an angle so that the tiny pajama wearing six-year-old curled up against his side could still see the pictures.

Harley was leaning against Rhodey’s arm, very focused, occasionally pointing at the illustrations or whispering something in that small, thoughtful way of his.

Rhodey, for his part, wasn’t just reading, he was doing voices. It made Tony want to burst out laughing, but he knew they’d stop reading if they knew he was there.

Tony lingered in the doorway for a few more seconds, watching as Rhodey continued reading, his voice low and steady, Harley curled up against him, perfectly content.

Yeah. They were good.

With a final glance, Tony turned and walked back to the living room, any thought of hot chocolate completely forgotten.

The TV flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the room. Happy and Noah were still asleep in their little pile, and Morgan was out cold in her crib. The whole place felt quiet, though not in an empty way, but in that cozy, peaceful way that only happened when everyone was safe and warm, home together, and happy.

He sank back down onto the couch, immediately feeling Pepper shift beside him. She barely stirred, just hummed softly and adjusted, resting her head against his shoulder like it simply belonged there.

Tony let out a long, quiet breath, letting his eyes slip shut.

The movie played on, the quiet rhythm of Pepper’s breathing mixing with the faint sounds of the TV, the warmth of her body pressed close to him. And within moments, he was asleep too.

Chapter Text

December 8, 2006

Obadiah Stane sat alone in a dimly lit conference room, deep within one of Stark Industries’ New York offices. The building had emptied out hours ago, the hum of daily operations replaced by an eerie silence, save for the occasional ticking of the clock mounted on the far wall. It was late, far later than he would have preferred to conduct business, but discretion was key in these types of situations. What he was about to set into motion was incredibly risky and would require detailed planning and care.

His hands were clasped together, resting atop the glossy mahogany table. His foot tapped restlessly against the polished floor, a rare sign of nerves from a man who prided himself on control. He checked his watch, which read 9:43 PM. They were late.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, schooling his features back into an expression of cool confidence. This wasn’t the time for doubt or hesitation. He had been working toward this moment for months, carefully laying the groundwork, manipulating the right people, securing the necessary resources. It was risky of course, but the potential rewards far outweighed the danger. Tony had grown distracted. Family life had softened him, made him careless. And a careless Tony Stark was an opportunity just waiting to be taken advantage of.

The faint click of the door handle turning pulled him from his thoughts. His sharp gaze snapped up as the heavy door swung open, revealing the first of his guests.

Mary and Richard Parker stepped inside, their expressions unreadable. Mary moved with an air of quiet confidence, her purse slipping from her shoulder as she took a seat at the table. She folded her hands in her lap, her expression neutral but sharp. Stane had always admired that about her. She was clever and perceptive. Though, it was annoying when it wasn’t in his favor.

 Richard followed closely behind, nodding once in Stane’s direction before settling beside his partner.

“Afternoon.” Richard muttered, voice gruff, his tone cold.

Obadiah’s mouth curled into a practiced smile, his demeanor shifting into one of welcome.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Parker! Glad you could make it.” he said, his voice filled with false cheer.

Mary offered a polite, if not somewhat forced, smile. “Thank you, Obadiah.”

His eyes flickered between them, assessing. They were calm, composed. Good. That meant they weren’t about to get cold feet. Not that it would matter if they did.

He barely had time to exchange pleasantries before the door opened once again.

This time, Rose Keener stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she entered. Right behind her were Jasmine and Tyler Wilde, the couple moving in quietly next to each other, their expressions equally unreadable.

Stane’s grin widened as he stood to greet them, his booming voice filling the room.

“Rose! It’s nice to see you again!” He went up to her, wrapping her in a bone-crushing hug before turning to acknowledge the Wildes with a nod. “Wilde. Jasmine.”

Both gave short nods in return, offering little else.

Stane clapped his hands together, gesturing toward the empty seats. “Oookay, let’s get this party started, shall we?”

He waited as they each settled in, eyes scanning the room, taking stock of his little gathering. These were the people he had carefully selected, the ones willing to do what needed to be done, for the right price, of course.

His fingers trailed along the polished surface of the bar at the side of the room, selecting a bottle of deep red wine. He poured himself a generous glass, swirling the liquid before raising a brow at the others.

“Anyone else want some?”

Mary, from across the table, lifted a hand. “Some wine sounds great just about now.”

Stane chuckled, pouring a second glass before making his way over to her, placing it into her waiting hand. As he did, his gaze flickered to Tyler, who lifted a single finger in silent request.

Stane nodded approvingly, pouring one more drink before setting the bottle aside.

Now, onto business.

He grabbed the stack of documents from the counter, papers that practically held the key to their entire operation, before returning to his seat.

“Alright.” he began, taking a small sip of his wine before setting the glass down. “Here’s how this is going to go. Obviously, we have to create new identities for them all." Stane said, adjusting his tie as he gathered a stack of documents. "I’m going to pass out their new birth certificates, social security numbers, and adoption papers."

He stood, moving around the table to hand the first set of papers to the Wildes. "Sophia Wilde. Born to Alexandria Pierce, adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Wilde." He glanced between them, noting the way Jasmine’s eyes lit up wildly, while Tyler barely reacted, his expression unreadable. Stane had never liked dealing with them much, Jasmine was overeager, and Tyler uninterested. Seemingly rude, even.

Next, he approached the Parkers. "We had to be careful with this one. Three kids, all the same ages as the Stark children, suddenly adopted at the same time? That would raise red flags. So, as per your request, Noah is going to be yours 'biologically.' His new identity, Peter Benjamin Parker. Middle name after your bother or whatever.” He said, setting the papers in front of Richard and Mary, watching them as they scanned over all the details.

Finally, he turned to Rose, the only one in the room who had insisted on taking a child alone. "Liam Keener. Born to Madeline Harper, adopted by Rose Keener." Stane said, passing her the final set of documents. He didn't miss the flicker of excitement in her eyes. She had always wanted children. This whole operation was probably more of a personal victory for her than anything else.

"If anyone talks," Stane added casually, settling back into his chair, "I will personally ensure that it’ll be the last thing they do." He said, fake sweetness filled his words as he scanned over the group.

He leaned back, letting the weight of the statement settle as he smirked. "Well, congratulations, everyone. You’re parents now. Oh, and twenty million dollars richer." He took another sip of his wine. "The funds will appear in your offshore accounts by the 12^th, same day the kids will be dropped off." He set his glass down. "They’ll be taken the night of the 11th and delivered by 5 a.m. After that, they’re your problem. If there’s any complications, there will be someone sent to handle it." He said threateningly.

The six of them continued discussing the details, confirming logistics, ironing out final concerns. Then, Jasmine hesitated before speaking up.

"Don’t you think it’s... cruel to separate them? Especially the twins?" Her voice faltered as soon as the words left her mouth, as if realizing her mistake, but choosing to speak anyways.

Stane kept his expression neutral, but irritation flared beneath the surface. He needed these people on board. Cooperation and loyalty were vital to this plan. That meant playing the part of the reasonable leader.

"Sentimentality isn’t useful here." he said smoothly. "They’ll adjust. Children are… adaptable."

Of course, he didn’t care either way. As far as he was concerned, children were nothing but distractions. Sticky, loud, and constantly underfoot. He’d lost count of how many times Harley or Noah had gotten in his way while he was in Tony’s lab. And Tony let it happen, let them run around like it was a damn playground instead of a multi-million dollar tech facility.

The whole thing was ridiculous. Soon enough though, it wouldn’t be his problem anymore.

  -

(Two Weeks Earlier)

Stane wasn’t exactly in the habit of making social calls, least of all to Tony Stark’s house. He was here for business. Stark Industries’ stocks had taken a dip, and Tony had been more distracted than usual, brushing off meetings and responsibilities with half-hearted excuses.

Stane had figured he’d catch him in the lab, buried in a half-finished project, probably covered in grease. But when he let himself in through the front door, the distinct lack of workshop noises made him frown.

Instead, he found Tony in the kitchen.

At first glance, it almost didn’t seem real. Tony Stark, the smartest person he knew, a man who could take apart and rebuild a missile in his sleep, the was standing at the counter, laser focused on cutting sandwiches into precise dinosaur shapes.

Stane stared. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Tony barely glanced up. “You ever try to hand a six-year-old a sandwich that isn’t shaped like a dinosaur after giving them one, one time? It’s chaos, Obie. Pure chaos.”

Noah, sitting cross-legged on a dining chair pulled up to the counter, beamed. “We like dinosaurs!” he supplied helpfully.

Harley, sprawled out on the kitchen floor with a toy in each hand, didn’t look up but still chimed in, “And he likes doing it.”

Tony scoffed. “Excuse you, I am a very busy man.”

Harley huffed, looking up at him with a scrunched-up face. “Busy making dinosaurs.”

“I could be making so many other things.” Tony said, adjusting the sandwich in his hands like a sculptor refining his masterpiece. “You never know.”

Noah giggled. “You are making dinosaurs.”

“Shh!” Tony hushed dramatically, pointing at him with the peanut butter smeared butter knife. “Don’t expose me.”

Obadiah rubbed his temples, already exhausted. “You ever think that maybe you’re wasting time here?” he asked.

Tony hummed, unfazed. “Nope.” He placed the newly perfected T-rex onto Noah’s plate, then reached over and ruffled his curls. “You want an allosaurus next or are we sticking with classic dinos?”

Noah considered this with great seriousness before deciding, “Triceratops.”

Harley made a face. “Now that’s boring.”

Noah gasped. “Take that back.”

“Never.”

“Take it back!” Noah whined.

Tony snorted. “Alright, that’s it, I’m banning dinosaur debating at the table. No more bickering.”

Noah grinned in triumph while Harley rolled his eyes.

Stane, however, had had enough. “Tony.” he cut in sharply. “A word.”

Tony sighed like this was some great inconvenience to his day and handed Noah the next sandwich before turning to Obadiah.

“Alright, fine. Make it quick.”

Stane started toward him, and then, suddenly, he wasn’t walking anymore. He was falling.

His foot caught on something solid, and before he could catch himself, he went down. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his nose and knees as his face practically bounced off the tile.

For a second, he couldn’t process what had happened. That was, until he heard the sharp, startled cry of a child and realized that he had just run into Noah.

Noah, who had been hopping down from his chair to grab a napkin, now sat on the floor beside him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. The moment the initial shock wore off, he let out a loud, hiccupping sob.

Tony was instantly by the boy’s side, dropping into a crouch and scooping him up.

“Hey, hey, bud, you’re alright.” Tony murmured, his voice dropping into something soft and reassuring as he rocked him slightly. One hand rubbed slow, steady circles into Noah’s back while the other carded through his curls as he looked the kid over. “I got you. You’re good.”

Noah buried his face in Tony’s shirt, still sniffling.

Harley had scrambled over too, hovering beside them with a frown. “Noah? You okay?”

Noah sniffed again but nodded against Tony’s chest.

Meanwhile, Stane was seething. His nose was bleeding.

Scowling, he ripped a paper towel from the roll that sat on the counter next to the sink, and pressed it against his face, irritation bubbling in his chest.

It wasn’t his fault the kid had been in the way.

Tony, still holding Noah, finally looked up, and the glare he shot at Stane was downright venomous.

“What?” Stane snapped.

“You ran into him.” Tony said, voice sharp.

Stane huffed. “It was an accident.” He gestured toward Noah, who was still curled against Tony’s chest. “Look at him. He’s fine. I’m the one bleeding, you don’t see me crying about it.”

Tony’s face went all screwed up, and he was looking at his business partner like he’d just said something stupid. “He’s six.”

Stane scoffed. “Exactly. Six, not made of glass.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a second, just stared at him like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, he shook his head.

“Get out.”

Stane blinked. “Excuse me?”

Tony’s voice was calm, but it didn’t exactly leave room for argument.

“I said get out.”

There was no yelling, no dramatics, just a simple request, and he knew he should just be a decent person and leave. Stane opened his mouth, but something in Tony’s eyes stopped him.

With a frustrated huff, he tossed the bloodstained paper towel into the sink and turned toward the door.

He didn’t look back as he stormed out, slamming it behind him.

The last thing he heard before he reached the door was Noah’s quiet, shaky voice, asking, “Can I still have my triceratops?”

And Tony, his voice just as soft, saying, “Of course you can, buddy.”

Then, tires rolled across the pavement of the driveway as Stane drove away, anger simmering under his skin.

 He didn’t know why, but that memory always grated on his nerves.

Maybe it was the way Tony had looked at him, like he was the one in the wrong for a simple accident. Maybe it was the way the kid had cried over something so insignificant, like he was made of fragile glass. Or maybe it was the fact that Tony had actually kicked him out over it.

All over a kid. Stane hated kids. So whiny. So fragile. Always getting in the way of things.

And that had been just one of many times those brats had interfered between him and his business partner.

Noah and Harley were always there, always underfoot, always finding ways to make things difficult. Every time he came over, one of them was climbing onto Tony’s lap or tugging on his sleeve for attention. They’d interrupt conversations like they had no sense of priorities, and worse, Tony would let them.

It was honestly embarrassing. Tony Stark, the current CEO of Stark Industries, who should have been focused on his company, was instead spending his time cutting sandwiches into little shapes and letting two, soon to be three snot-nosed brats distract him.

That day in the kitchen had been the final straw. That was when he’d made up his mind that they had to go.

  -

(Present)

Mary let out a soft, amused huff as she glanced at the papers in front of her. She tapped a manicured nail against the false birth certificate, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Well, let’s just hope he learns some proper manners under our care.” she said casually, barely concealing her contempt. “God knows the Starks aren’t doing him any favors.”

Stane grinned. This was exactly why he’d chosen the Parkers. That kid, Noah, Peter Parker, whatever, had been spoiled rotten. Climbing onto counters, talking over adults, crying over a minor accident like a helpless little thing. He needed discipline. Structure. Someone to put him in his place.

Mary and Richard Parker would make sure of that.

With the final details gone over, the meeting came to a close after another hour of discussion. Plans were finalized, possibilities set, and Stane assured them all that everything would be taken care of.

One by one, they filed out, each shaking his hand on their way.

"Pleasure doing business with you.” Tyler said with a nod.

"Don’t screw this up." Jasmine added under her breath, and her eyes gleamed with greed.

Rose Keener gave a tight, excited smile before slipping out the door and making her way down the hallway.

Finally, the Parkers left, Mary tossing one last remark over her shoulder. "Four days, Stane. Make sure everything goes smoothly. I’d better not have the police showing up to my door to arrest me for child abduction."

As the door clicked shut behind them, Obadiah exhaled, running a hand over his bald head before straightening his suit and walking out of the conference room a few minutes after the others.

Four days. That’s all he had. Four days to pull this off perfectly.

Chapter Text

December 12th, 2006

Between her and Tony, Pepper had always been the lighter sleeper. On the rare occasion Tony fell asleep in their bed, instead of in his lab or on the couch, he was out cold. Dead to the world. Nothing could wake him, not the buzzing of his work phone, not even the twins bursting into their room in the middle of the night with tangled, curly brown hair and sleepy grins, asking if they could sleep in their bed.

Pepper, however, woke up at the slightest shift in the air. And tonight was no different.

It started as a noise. A faint shuffling, like footsteps moving quickly, urgently, just outside their bedroom door.

She furrowed her brows, eyes fluttering open as she adjusted to the darkness. It was barely past three in the morning, too early for the twins to be awake, and too late for Tony to still be working in his lab. She turned onto her side, expecting to see her husband pacing the room or getting up, though it’s too early for that too. Instead, when she turned to look over her shoulder, Tony was right there, asleep beside her.

Her stomach twisted.

Muffled voices. A dull thud. A quiet, cut-off cry.

Pepper shot up in bed, blood running cold. That was a child's voice. One of the twins.

She didn’t hesitate, throwing off the covers, she shook Tony's shoulder roughly. "Tony," she hissed. "Wake up."

Tony groaned, barely stirring. "Five more minutes..." he muttered sleepily, turning away.

"Tony!" she snapped, sharper now. "I think someone's in the house."

That woke him up. His eyes blinked open, body tense. "What?"

She didn’t waste time explaining. Instead, she was already rushing toward the bedroom door, heart pounding wildly. She grabbed the handle and twisted, and it turned, but the door didn’t budge.

She tried again, yanking harder. Nothing.

Panic took over. It wasn’t locked, but something kept it shut from the other end. She slammed her shoulder into the door, pain jolting through her arm as it refused to give way.

"Jarvis!" she called desperately. "Unlock the door!"

Nothing. No response.

Pepper turned sharply, eyes finding Tony, who was now wide awake, standing at his bedside table, tapping rapidly on a sleek watch.

"Jarvis is down." Tony murmured, more to himself than her, voice quiet but panicked.

Pepper felt sick. "What?"

Tony didn’t waste time. He grabbed a gun from his nightstand, a high-tech prototype he’d been working on, something that could blast through just about anything. He didn’t hesitate before he fired.

The door exploded outward in a shower of sparks, and outside, waiting for them was a half dozen men, all of them dressed in black.

There was a split second of stillness. And then chaos.

One of them lunged at Tony. He barely ducked in time, pivoting on instinct. His elbow crashed into the man’s temple, sending him stumbling back. Another grabbed at him, Tony twisted, ripping the guy’s arm down and driving his knee into his ribs.

Pepper wasn’t standing still either. She had grabbed the lamp from one of their nightstands, swinging hard, catching one of them on the side of the head.

Tony turned, ducking another blow, before driving his fist into someone’s throat. He ripped the gun from their grasp and turned it on them, firing without a second thought.

One shot. Two. Three.

Men collapsed.

There was a sharp cry behind him, Pepper! He turned just in time to see one of them grabbed her, yanking her backward. Tony reacted with instinct. He raised the stolen gun and shot, carefully making sure to avoid Pepper.

The man dropped, blood pooling beneath him.

Pepper was breathing heavily, her hands shaking as she stared at the man’s body. But there was no time to think. Another came at Tony, swinging, he dodged, yanking a knife from the guy’s belt and driving it into his side.

A final man stood, hesitating, realizing there was no winning this.

Tony didn’t give him a chance to react. He raised the gun, and with one last shot, there was silence.

It took maybe sixty seconds.

In hindsight, Tony should’ve realized it was too easy. They weren’t really fighting back. They weren’t here to kill. They weren’t even here to win. They were here to stall.

The moment the last man collapsed, unconscious on the floor, the house fell eerily silent.

Pepper and Tony locked eyes for a second, before they bolted in opposite directions. They ran as fast as they possibly could.

Pepper sprinted toward Morgan’s nursery, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might collapse before she even got there.

She shoved the door open, and with a horrible feeling of panic, she found the crib empty. Her baby was gone.

The mobile above it spun gently, as if someone had just been there. The blankets were rumpled, and a stuffed elephant was lying on the floor.

Morgan was gone.

A sharp sob ripped from Pepper’s throat as she stumbled forward, hands gripping the crib railing as if that would somehow make this not real. As if she could force reality to reverse just by her desperation alone.

“No,” she gasped. “No, no, no, no!”

Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking. She turned sharply, her voice rising to a scream. "TONY!"

But he wasn't in the room.

Tony reached the twins' bedroom just as she called his name, his gut twisting into knots before he'd even opened the door. He already knew.

The room was a disaster. The curtains billowed from an open window, the bedsheets were torn off as if they’d put up a struggle, and a lamp had been knocked over.

And his boys, his sons, were gone. And by the sounds of it, so was his daughter.

For a moment, he couldn’t move. He just stood there, chest rising and falling, trying to catch up with everything that had just happened in the past five minutes.

He’d failed.

His hands clenched into fists. His body trembled with adrenaline, grief, and fury. His mind screamed at him to do something, to fix this, to find them.

But they were already gone. What could he do?

By the time Pepper found him, Tony had crossed the room in a daze, gripping the frame of Harley’s bed with white-knuckled hands, his head bowed, his shoulders trembling with barely restrained emotion.

Pepper choked on a sob.

"They’re gone." she whispered.

Tony didn't respond for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw.

"...I know."

Pepper pressed a hand to her mouth, closing her eyes as silent tears spilled down her cheeks. Her babies. Her babies.

Tony took a deep, shuddering breath, his hands finally releasing their iron grip on the bed.

“We need to call the police.”

Pepper nodded frantically, already reaching for the phone. Her fingers trembled as she dialed, her voice cracking when the operator picked up.

Tony, meanwhile, turned and left the room. His mind was already racing.

Jarvis had been compromised. Their security had been overridden. Their house had been invaded. And he, a man known for his genius, his tech, his brilliance, had been asleep while it happened.

He should have known. He should have stopped it. But he didn’t. He didn’t even know it was happening until it happened.

Now, all that was left was the empty beds. The silence that rang through the house louder than any of Morgans obnoxious pterodactyl screeches, or Noah’s squeals of excitement as he chases Harley up and down the halls, around and around the kitchen island.  

And the knowledge that somewhere out there, his children were scared. Alone.

Tony’s jaw locked. His body shot with fury and fear, grief clawing at his throat, hot and unbearable.

He needed to move. Needed to do something.

He ran to his office, his hands moving on autopilot as he powered on his computer, trying to pull up security footage. But Jarvis was down. No cameras, no logs, nothing.

Pepper was on the phone, her voice frantic, barely comprehensible as she begged the operator to send someone. It was incredibly out of character for the usually professional and composed woman.

He understood her desperation. He felt the exact same way. He needed to find them.

He needed to bring them home.

  -

The next few hours passed in a blur. Pepper distantly registered that Tony had come back from his office empty-handed, a look of defeat on his face. A rare expression to be seen on the great Tony Stark. No shouts announcing he’d found them. No relieved, breathless laughter. Nothing.

The door had been pushed open, and for one terrible moment, she thought maybe, maybe, he’d have found them, that he’d done something impossible, found their babies and brought them back. Or at least, had a lead. But then she saw his face, and the last sliver of hope she had left died.

Tony looked wrecked. His eyes were wild, red-rimmed, hands shaking at his sides. His clothes were rumpled, blood splattered across his rolled-up sleeves, probably from the men he had fought off, maybe even his own. Pepper barely felt herself move.

One moment, she was standing stiffly in the living room, arms wrapped around herself. The next, she was in front of Tony, her hands gently resting on his shoulders, her voice breaking as she begged. “Where are they?”

Tony flinched, and her stomach dropped. “They’re not-” His voice caught, hoarse and broken. “They’re not there.” A sob burst out of her before she could stop it. She felt her knees buckle, and Tony caught her automatically, arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest like she was the only thing keeping him upright.

“They’re gone.” she gasped. Tony’s grip tightened. They stood there, clinging to each other, drowning in the unbearable, suffocating absence of a chunk of their world.

The FBI and police arrived not long after. Pepper barely remembered answering their questions. She was distantly aware of men in suits combing through the house, agents murmuring to each other, someone placing a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder, guiding her to sit down. She didn’t know what she said. She didn’t care. The only thing she could focus on was the crushing weight in her chest, the way her body felt like it was caving under stress.

Tony was the same. He kept pacing, running his hands through his hair, looking like he was about to explode at any moment. He kept looking toward the hallway, toward the stairs, like he was still expecting, praying, that one of the kids would come wandering down, rubbing sleep from their eyes, asking what all the noise was about.

They never did. Hours passed. At some point, they were told to leave. The police needed to secure the area. The FBI wanted to do their work. Their house had become a crime scene now. The words barely registered.

Pepper had no idea how they ended up in the car. She wasn’t sure who had led who out the door, whose idea it was to go to a hotel. She just knew that she was suddenly sitting in the driver’s seat, staring blankly at the windshield, hands gripping the wheel so tightly that her knuckles ached.

Tony was next to her, slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his head hanging low. Everything felt like it was way too much. She pressed the ignition button.

The moment the engine turned on the radio came to life. Halfway through a song. Harley’s favorite song. Pepper’s stomach dropped, and she pressed her hand over her mouth, and shut her eyes tightly.

It was the same song Tony and the twins had been singing along with at the top of their lungs, just a few hours ago, when he had picked them up from school. Happy. Laughing. Alive. Now the sound was just like a knife straight to the chest.

Tony slammed his hand against the radio, cutting it off so abruptly the silence felt deafening. Pepper couldn’t breathe. Her hands shook against the wheel. It didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel real.

Just yesterday morning, she had kissed the boys goodbye before school. Just last evening, Morgan had been babbling at her from her highchair, laughing as Noah and Harley tried to make her giggle. Now they were just gone. She sucked in a breath, only to choke on a sob.

Tony didn’t look at her. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. His head rested against the glove compartment his breathing uneven. His fingers curled into fists where they rested on his knees. He was trying to keep it together. But Pepper knew him. And she knew he was falling apart.

“I should have stopped them.” he rasped suddenly. Pepper flinched. “I should have-” His breath hitched. “Something. I should have-” He broke off. Silence. And then, almost violently, he wrenched back, slamming his fist against the dashboard.

Pepper startled, gasping, watching as he sucked in a shaking breath, pressing his hands against his face. “This is my fault.” His voice was rough. “They were after me. They wanted something from me. But they took them.”

Pepper clenched her jaw, swallowing the lump in her throat. “No,” she croaked.

Tony let out a humorless, shattered laugh. “Yes.”

She turned to him, gripping his arm. “Tony, no. This isn’t- this isn’t you. It’s them. They did this.” Tony’s head dropped back, eyes squeezed shut, his entire body trembling with barely restrained rage and grief.

Pepper didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to fix this. Didn’t know how to breathe in a world where her kids were missing.

She let out a shaky exhale, her gaze falling to the dashboard. Noah’s backpack was still in the backseat. She hadn’t even noticed it before. It was sitting there, slumped over, an old, worn Captain America keychain dangling from the zipper.

Her vision blurred. She reached out, fingers brushing over the fabric, gripping the strap so tightly her nails dug into her palm.

Tony turned his head, noticing where her gaze had landed. He swallowed. His face crumpled. A choked, quiet sound tore out of his mouth, and he crumpled forward, his forehead pressing against the dashboard. His shoulders shook, his breath ragged and uneven, fists clenched against his knees.

Pepper moved without thinking. She pulled him in, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could with the obstacle of the center console in between them, burying her face into his shoulder.

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them could. They just sat there, in the suffocating silence of the car, holding each other together, both knowing nothing would ever be the same if they didn’t get their kids back.

The hotel room was cold, but it was sterile. It smelled like cheap cleaning products and fabric softener, and it made Pepper’s skin crawl. She just wanted to go back home, curl up in her bed with all three of her kids and her husband, all safe and unharmed.

She had barely registered anything between leaving the house and stepping into this space, just flashes of movement. The monotone receptionist handing over a keycard. The quiet ding of the elevator. The weight of exhaustion pressing down on her shoulders, making each step feel heavier than the last.

Now, she sat on the small gray sofa beside the kitchenette, her closed hand pressed against her lips, fingers trembling. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to stifle a sob or keep herself from screaming. Either way, it was hardly working.

Across the room, Tony slumped forward at the desk, his elbows braced against the surface, head buried in his hands. His shoulders were tight, his breath unsteady. He was trying to think. That’s what he always did. He thought his way out of problems. But there was no blueprint for this. No equation that could bring their babies back.

The silence in the room was suffocating and painful. It was wrong. There should have been laughter. Bickering. The sounds of tiny feet pattering across the floor.  

Instead, there was nothing.

Pepper inhaled sharply through her nose and let out a shuddering breath. The sound made Tony lift his head slightly. He turned to look at her, his eyes red-rimmed, glistening with exhaustion and guilt.

He pushed back from the desk and crossed the room in a few strides, sitting beside her. He didn’t say anything, just wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. She curled into his side without hesitation, her fingers gripped at the fabric of his shirt.

Tony’s hand skimmed up and down her arm in a mindless, repetitive motion, comforting, or maybe just something to do.

Pepper swallowed against the lump in her throat. “They’re gone.” The words barely made it past her lips. Saying it out loud made it feel real in a way she wasn’t ready to handle.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. “I know.” His voice was hoarse, wrecked.

Pepper let out a shaky breath, staring blankly at the hotel room door. “I keep thinking…” Her throat tightened. “I keep thinking the twins are going to run through that door. That Morgan’s gonna start crying, and I’ll- I’ll wake up, and this will all be-” She cut herself off, because finishing that sentence would mean acknowledging that it wasn’t just a nightmare.

Pepper closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. She could hear it. The sound of Tony’s voice blending with the twins’, Noah’s loud enthusiasm, Harley’s more careful pitch.

And now, there was nothing.

A choked breath escaped her. She bit her lip hard enough to hurt. “Why didn’t I wake up sooner?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t we hear them?”

Tony exhaled sharply, his grip on her tightening. “Because we thought we were safe.” The words were bitter, filled with self-loathing. “Because I let my guard down.”

Pepper shook her head. “We let our guard down.”

That didn’t make it hurt any less.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Pepper’s grip on his shirt tightened. “I heard Noah cry out.” Her breath shuddered. “But I didn’t hear Morgan.”

Tony stilled beside her.

“I always hear her,” Pepper whispered. Her stomach twisted violently. “Even when she’s in the next room. Even when she just stirs. But last night-” She broke off, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

Tony’s jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. “They must’ve taken her first.”

Pepper let out a sound, something small, broken. “What if they hurt her?” she asked. Tony didn’t respond, just held her tighter.

The thought of her daughter being ripped from her crib, stolen away in the dead of night, possibly even hurt, made her chest physically ache.

Tony’s hands were shaking. His whole body was wired, vibrating with an energy he couldn’t release. His knee bounced. His fingers twitched. He wanted to move. To get to work trying to find them. To do something. But there was nothing to do.

That helplessness was eating him alive.

Pepper pulled back slightly to look at him, and it broke her heart. He looked lost. Defeated. Guilty.

Tony Stark was a lot of things. Reckless, arrogant, insufferable at times. But he was never helpless. He was never small.

But right now, at this moment, he looked both.

And she knew he wasn’t just thinking about the twins. About Morgan. He was thinking about what could be happening to them. Were they cold? Were they afraid?  Were they injured?  He was thinking about his childhood. About a dark room, a terrified little boy, no one coming to get him.

Pepper pressed a hand against his cheek, forcing him to meet her eyes. “We’re going to get them back.”

Tony stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled sharply, looking away. “Yeah.” he muttered. “Yeah, I know.”

But he didn’t.

Because for the first time in his life, the great Tony Stark didn’t have a plan.

  -

The police had come and gone, asking questions, jotting down notes in their little notepads, making empty reassurances that sounded more like protocol than genuine comfort.

“We are doing everything we can.”

Tony barely heard them. He barely registered when the officers left, when the hotel room door clicked shut behind them. He was staring at a spot on the wall, unfocused, his mind a mess of fragmented thoughts that he couldn’t seem to piece together.

Pepper sat beside him on the couch, her posture stiff, her hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. Her nails had left pink crescent-shaped indents in her palms. She hadn’t spoken much, only answering when necessary, her voice hollow.

The room felt heavier than before, like the walls were closing in, suffocating them.

The sun was rising now, thin streaks of orange and gold stretching across the sky. Tony hated it. It felt wrong. The world was still moving, time still passing, when theirs had come to a screeching halt. The light that seeped through the curtains didn’t feel warm or hopeful. It felt like mockery. This was the worst feeling. The feeling of hopelessness. The knowledge that this was out of their hands.  Their kids, their world, could be anywhere, and they could be suffering right now, while they sat and waited for the police to solve it for them. But there was nothing else they could do.

Every second that passed was another second that their kids weren’t here. Another second where they were somewhere else, scared, alone, or worse.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t think like that. He had to stay focused.

But how was he supposed to do that when all he could picture was Morgan’s tiny hands reaching for him, Noah’s voice calling out for help, Harley’s quiet fear, because Harley wouldn’t scream, wouldn’t cry. He’d shut down. Tony knew that about him. And the thought of his son going quiet, curling himself into a little ball in some unfamiliar place, made his chest physically ache.

Pepper inhaled sharply beside him, but she didn’t say anything. Tony turned his head slightly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She was staring down at her lap, blinking rapidly, her lips pressed together like she was trying to keep herself together through pure stubbornness.

Tony hesitated for a second before reaching over and taking one of her hands in his. She latched onto him immediately, her grip was tight, desperate, like she was afraid he might disappear too.

A shaky breath left her lips. “What if-” she cut herself off, shaking her head as if trying to rid herself of the thought.

Tony tightened his grip. “Don’t.” His voice was rough. “Don’t go there.”

Pepper let out a small, broken laugh. “Where else am I supposed to go, Tony? What if this isn’t a ransom? What if they never come home?”

Tony had no answer to that.

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. The police had left them with nothing. No leads, no direction, just that same hollow promise. ‘We’re doing everything we can.’

Tony wanted to believe them. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. That arrogance inside him that people knew him by, came to light. He could find them. At least, he’d do a better job than any of them would. If only he hadn’t been directly ordered to leave it to the authorities.

He had seen firsthand how slow law enforcement could be. How easily cases slipped through the cracks. How many people get taken and never found.

And that couldn’t happen. It wouldn’t happen. Not to his kids.

Tony’s jaw clenched, his fingers twitching where they rested against his knee.

He wasn’t just going to sit here. He wasn’t going to waste another second waiting for people who didn’t care as much as they did, to do it for them.

He was going to find them.

Whatever it takes.

  -

They didn’t know how long it’d take for them to be allowed back home. There was a lot to be done there, so they just had to stay put until then.

The morning light felt grossly happy. Too bright, too normal, as if the world hadn’t just crumbled beneath their feet. Rhodey and Happy had shown up at the hotel the second they found out what had happened, Rhodey knocking on the hotel door at 6 a.m. while Happy parked the car. Tony barely remembered calling them, but they were here now, and somehow, the extra presences made the silence more bearable.

Tony sat on the uncomfortable couch, barely feeling the weight of Rhodey sinking the cushion beside him. He didn’t say much, just sat there, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor like if he looked hard enough, he could find the answers in the miscolored carpet.

Happy had settled at the dining table, watching over them like a silent protector, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, but knew he still had to be there.

And Pepper couldn’t sit down.

She moved through the tiny hotel room like a ghost, picking things up only to put them right back down, aimlessly cleaning things that didn’t need to be cleaned. She wiped down the tiny kitchenette counter three times, straightened the couch pillows, and rearranged the coffee bar on the little entryway table.

What would it even feel like to walk through that front door again? To step inside and see the Legos still scattered across the coffee table, frozen in time? Would she be able to look at them without hearing the echoes of Noah and Harley’s voices, the way they would always argue over whether superheroes or dinosaurs were cooler? Would she be able to step over Morgan’s blocks, still stacked into a neat little tower in the corner of the living room? Without expecting her baby girl to come crawling up to her, demanding to be picked up?

The house was a crime scene.

Not the kind with bloodstains and shattered glass. No, this was worse. Something quieter. Emptiness. The ghosts of tiny giggles of tiny kids would still be there, lingering in the air like dust caught in the sunlight. She could picture the tiny handprints smudging the windows, sticky with peanut butter from their sandwiches at lunch. The half-finished drawings, taped to the fridge in bright, wobbly crayon letters. "Mommy, Daddy, Morgan, Noah, and Me."

Her throat tightened with emotion, and more tears steamed down her cheeks as she scrubbed a non-existent spot off of the bathroom sink.

Noah’s toy cars, still lined up along the edge of the rug, the wood scratched and scraped from years of races across the hallway floor. Harley’s latest Lego masterpiece, built with far too much care for a six-year-old but missing one crucial piece according to Noah, because the boy had insisted it looked better his way.

How was she supposed to walk into that house without them there? Without the noise, without the mess, without their warmth and innocent happiness filling up every inch of the space?

Pepper squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it out, but that only made it worse. Because now she was seeing Morgan’s crib, empty. She was seeing the couch where the boys would curl up after a long day, their little heads leaning against each other as they watched a movie, her and Tony whispering together with smiles on their faces, about who would fall asleep first.

She didn’t want to go home.

Because if she went home, she would have to face the reality that their children were gone.

She set the hand towel down and turned away, squeezing her eyes shut.

Tony hadn’t moved since he sat down, but Rhodey hadn’t either. He was giving Tony space, but not too much. Not enough to let him drown. Or do something dumb.

“I-” Tony started, but his throat closed. He swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to do.”

His voice was quiet. Small. He hated how weak it sounded, how defeated.

Rhodey exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “We’ll figure it out.”

Tony let out a humorless breath. “That’s a nice thought.” His fingers curled into fists. “But it’s not good enough.”

They weren’t just missing. They were taken. That wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. Someone had done this. Planned it. Someone who had access to Jarvis, who had the clearance to access his AI. Someone who had the ability to compromise his home.

Someone had looked at his children and decided they could take them.

His stomach twisted, rage boiling beneath his skin.

“I’m going to find them.” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “I have to.”

Pepper finally sat down on the armrest beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. She was still shaking.

He covered her hand with his own.

Neither of them had slept. Neither of them could sleep. How could they?

  -

Tony hadn’t been able to just wait.

The idea of sitting around while strangers tried to find his kids, people who didn’t know them, didn’t love them, was frustrating beyond belief. The police and FBI could do their jobs, sure, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

So, as soon as he was able, Tony locked himself in his lab. Because since when did he do as he’s told? It’s public knowledge.

He barely spoke. Barely acknowledged anyone. He just worked.

The house upstairs was too quiet. Too still. So, he buried himself in the hum of his machines, in the bright glow of his monitors, in the endless stream of security footage and data he was tearing apart frame by frame.

Happy and Rhodey had tried to get him to eat. To sleep. He ignored them. He ignored everything except for the numbers and images flashing across his screens, all his focus on one goal, and that was finding his kids.

Pepper would come down every so often, standing in the doorway like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Eventually, she stopped trying.

She knew there was nothing to say.

The lab was a mess of scattered papers, maps, and hastily scribbled notes. Tony’s whiteboard was covered in theories and possible locations, every lead he had scrounged up, no matter how thin.

But nothing was concrete. Nothing felt right. How had these people gotten away, and covered their tracks so well?

He replayed the security footage from that night over and over again, his jaw clenching every time he watched the figures move through the shadows, slipping past every defense, neutralizing JARVIS, bypassing the security system like it was nothing.

It made him sick.

This wasn’t random. It wasn’t a botched burglary or some two-bit ransom job. It was planned. Deliberate. They had come for his kids, and they had left with his kids.

And he had let them.

Tony ran his hand down his face, rubbing his eyes until he saw stars behind his lids. He couldn’t let himself spiral. Not now. Not when three of the six most important pieces of his life were missing. He didn’t have time to rest. Not until all of them are home and safe.

He exhaled sharply, staring at the screen in front of him. A grainy image of a masked figure holding Noah, the kid’s tiny limbs limp in their grasp. Another figure carrying Harley. A third shadow slipped into Morgan’s room.

His stomach twisted. It had been too easy for them. How had he let this happen?

Tony’s hands curled into fists.

He only hoped, prayed, that when he found them, it wouldn’t be too late

  -

Upstairs, the house felt hollow. Too big. Too empty.

Pepper had tried to sleep, tried to close her eyes for even just a moment, but every time she did, she saw them. She saw Noah, curled up in his blanket, babbling about dinosaurs. She saw Harley’s mismatched socks sticking out from under his comforter. She saw Morgan, tiny and perfect, nestling between them in the morning when she always managed to wriggle her way into their bed.

Now, said beds were empty.

She had wandered into their room at some point, she wasn’t sure when. The sun was rising now, the pale orange glow slipping through the curtains, lighting up the chaos left behind.

Legos scattered across the floor. A forgotten bedtime story still open on Noah’s nightstand. A pair of Morgan’s tiny socks crumpled near the end of Harley’s bed.

Pepper gripped the doorframe so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

She turned sharply and left the room, heading downstairs, needing to do something.

She found herself in the kitchen. Staring blankly at the coffee maker.

She went through the motions, pouring water, scooping grounds, watching as dark liquid dripped into the pot, as if this were any other morning. As if this were normal.

But it wasn’t. Nothing would ever be normal again. Not until she had her kids back.

The coffee pot beeped. She barely registered the sound.

She took a mug from the cabinet, the one Noah had painted for her in kindergarten, bright blues and yellows smeared together in chaotic, joyful streaks. He had been so proud of it, declaring, “It’s a sunset, Mama! Like the one we see across the beach!”

She gripped the mug so hard she thought it might shatter in her hands.

“Pep.”

Tony’s voice was rough, low.

She turned to see him standing in the doorway, looking worse than she’d ever seen him. His face was pale, hollowed out with exhaustion, his eyes bloodshot, dark circles carved beneath them.

He didn’t move toward her. Didn’t say anything else.

He didn’t have to.

Without a word, she set the mug down and walked straight into his arms.

Tony held her tightly, his hands gripping the back of her shirt like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. She buried her face in his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut, her breath shaking against his collarbone.

They stood there, unmoving, in the dim morning light.

A house without their children wasn’t a home.

And neither of them knew how to exist in it anymore.

  -

Chapter Text

Harley stirred in his sleep as he felt someone grab ahold of his shoulders. He groggily blinked his eyes open, confused by the rough hands shaking him awake. Before he could even react, he was being yanked upright, his small body lifted out of bed like he weighed nothing.

Panic shot through him. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t his dad’s arms or his mom’s soft voice telling him it was morning. This was wrong. He twisted, trying to see who had grabbed him, but the room was dark, and everything felt hazy from the sleep he’d been rudely awoken from.

He opened his mouth to call for his parents, but before he could get a word out, a hand clamped over his face, pressing against his nose and mouth. The grip was tight, and he couldn’t breathe right. His heart pounded as he tried to cry out, but the sound was muffled against the sweaty palm covering his face.

Harley thrashed, kicking his legs and swinging his arms, but whoever was holding him barely reacted to his squirming. They were a lot stronger than him, and with every movement, every struggle to get out of their grasp, it felt useless, like trying to push over one of the big rocks he and Noah like to play on outside the house.

A distressed noise made Harley’s head snap toward the other bed. Noah.

Even in the dim light, he could see his brother’s wide, terrified eyes. A second figure stood over his brother, holding him down, a hand wrapped around his face just like Harley’s. Noah was crying, but no sound came from him.

Harley’s stomach twisted. They weren’t supposed to cry without their mom or dad coming to check on them. Someone should have heard them by now. Why wasn’t anyone coming?

The man holding him shifted, digging into his pajama shirt with one hand while the other stayed firmly over his mouth. Harley squirmed, trying to twist away, but the man’s grip on him only tightened as he struggled.

Something sharp pricked his arm.

His eyes widened  and he became more panicked as a burning sensation spread through his shoulder. His kicks slowed, arms suddenly too heavy to lift. The room started spinning as his eyelids drooped, and his body just decided to stop listening to him.

The last thing he saw was Noah, struggling in the woman’s arms, before everything faded to black.

  -

Harley woke up with his stomach twisting in knots. His whole body felt fuzzy, like when he spun too fast on the tire swing and tumbled off, feeling dizzy and sick. His head pounded, and his mouth was dry, his tongue sticking weirdly to the roof of it.

He blinked slowly, trying to figure out where he was. The last thing he remembered was being in his bed, warm and safe after his mom and dad tucked him in, and then there were people dressed in black, shaking him awake. The strong, aggressive hands, and the sharp pain in his shoulder, and then… nothing?

Harley shot upright, trying to see where he was, but the sudden movement made his stomach lurch. He barely managed to stop himself from throwing up. Everything was so stuffy. His hands pressed against the floor, that was not a floor. Something soft. Carpet? But the air was thick and smelled weird, like old sweat and something kind of sour, and the fuzz of whatever he was sitting on was hard underneath. Nothing like the carpet in his and Noah’s bedroom.

A tiny whimper snapped him out of his groggy daze. He turned, eyes adjusting, and saw Noah sitting across from him, curled up and hugging something close to his chest. Morgan.

Harley felt this weird pain in his chest at the sight, like it’d just fallen all the way into his stomach. His baby sister was here too? When did they take her? Why? What was happening? Where were they going? He had about a million questions, but no answers to any of them.

Noah was shaking, his hands gripping Morgan tightly, and his face was red and blotchy, tear tracks shining on his cheeks. But he wasn’t crying anymore. He was just… staring at Harley, eyes big and scared.

Harley swallowed the quickly building saliva in his mouth. He wasn’t used to seeing Noah like this. Noah cried sometimes, sure, like when he fell off his bike or when their mom said he couldn’t have ice cream before dinner. But this was different. He looked like he didn’t even know what to do with himself, like he wanted to cry but was too afraid to make any noise.

Harley scooted closer, his movements slow and careful. “Noah?” His voice came out small and scratchy. His throat hurt.

Noah sniffled but didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked down at Morgan, rubbing her back the way their mom always did when she was upset. She was awake, but she wasn’t making much noise, just little unhappy sounds, her tiny fingers buried in the fabric of Noah’s pajamas.

Harley tried to ignore the way his chest felt like someone was squishing him. He was scared, and he didn’t know what to do.

His legs felt like jelly as he moved to sit next to Noah, pressing their sides together. It was cold, and he was only in his pajamas. His bare toes curled against the soft floor of what he’d decided to be a car, its seats down.

That’s when he noticed that the walls around them weren’t really walls. They were the sides of a car, all the seats folded down, making the whole space feel weird and flat. And the windows, he couldn’t see out of them. Something was blocking them.

His stomach twisted again. They were trapped.

He sucked in a breath, trying to keep himself calm. They had to be brave. Their mom and dad would find them. They had to.

Time passed, but Harley didn’t know how much. It felt like forever. The car moved, bumping along the road, making his already nauseous stomach churn even more. He hated it. He hated even more, not knowing where they were or where they were going.

Morgan squirmed, making a tiny fussing noise. Noah shushed her quickly, rocking her a little. It was the only sound in the car besides the low rumble of the engine.

Then, suddenly, the car started slowing down. Turned, and then stopped.

Harley tensed. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but his whole body screamed that it wasn’t good, and to get as far away from those people as possible.

He grabbed Noah’s hand, squeezing tight. Noah squeezed back.

Then, a voice came from the now open trunk door.

“Noah.”

Harley’s breath caught in his throat as he scooted as far into the corner as the three of them could fit.

The man’s voice was rough and scratchy, nothing like their dad’s. Noah flinched at the sound, his grip on Morgan tightening, scooting another half inch into the corner, huddled up against Harley.

“Y-yes?” Noah’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Come here.”

Harley felt like all of the blood in his body went cold, and his stomach made that swoopy feeling again.

Noah shook his head quickly, curling around Morgan like that would somehow protect them both. “N-no thank you, sir…” His voice wobbled as he spoke.

The man sighed, like he was annoyed. Like this was just another irritating inconvenience to him. “Wasn’t a question, kid. You’re goin’ to a new home.”

Harley’s heart pounded. New home? No. No, no, no. He didn’t know what the man meant by that, but he knew it wasn’t good.

“No!” Harley blurted out, panic bubbling up. “Don’t take him! Let’s stay together! Please!”

The man didn’t even look at Harley. “Shut up, kid.”

Noah didn’t move. He was frozen, breathing fast, his little chest rising and falling in quick, panicked bursts.

The man sighed again, and then suddenly he was climbing into the back of the car.

Noah shrieked, trying to press himself further into the corner, but the man was too fast. He grabbed Noah by the arm, yanking him up.

Noah screamed.

Harley lunged forward, grabbing onto his brother’s other arm and pulling as hard as he could. “No! Let him go!” His voice loud, desperate, tears burning his eyes.

Noah twisted, kicking out, doing everything he could to fight back. He managed to sink his teeth into the man’s arm.

The man cursed, then, smack.

Noah went still.

Harley’s whole body just froze, the fight leaving him. The sound of the slap against his brother’s face echoed in the small space, ringing in his ears. Noah’s breath wobbled, his little hand flying up to his cheek. His eyes were shiny with tears, but he didn’t cry. Honestly, he was just afraid of what the consequences would be if he did.

He just looked down, shoulders shaking.

Harley felt sick.

Noah didn’t look at him as he slowly, shakily, reached into his pocket and pulled out something small. He pressed it into Harley’s hand.

Harley looked down. It was Noah’s favorite toy. The tiny stuffed dinosaur he always carried around. It was meant to be a keychain, but for whatever reason it was his brother’s favorite toy.

“Here… you can have him until I come back.” Noah whispered, running his hand over the top of Morgan’s hair.

Then, before Harley could say anything in response, the man dragged Noah away.

Harley couldn’t move.

He just sat there, clutching the little dinosaur, staring after his brother until the trunk slammed shut, cutting his line of sight off.

  -

Harley had lost track of time. The inside of the car was dark, the only light coming from the cracks lining the covered windows. The air was stuffy, thick with the smell of old fabric and something stale that made his nose scrunch.

Morgan shifted in his lap, her tiny body warm against his. She hadn’t cried in a while, just let out soft little whimpers every now and then. Harley wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

His fingers picked at the seam of her onesie. He kept thinking about Noah, about the way he had been dragged away, about how scared he had looked. He tried not to cry again, but it was hard. He didn’t want to scare Morgan any more than she already was, and crying wasn’t going to help.

The car swayed slightly, and Harley stiffened when he heard voices up front. The bad guys were talking, but their words were muffled. He caught a few words, “drop-off,” “time,” and something about “the other one.”

He swallowed, his throat dry. He didn’t know what they meant, but every part of him told him it wasn’t good.

Morgan shifted again, letting out a tiny, unhappy noise. Harley pulled her closer, rubbing small circles on her back like he had seen their mom do. “It’s okay, Mo.” he whispered, even though it wasn’t. “I got you.”

After what felt like forever, the car slowed down, then stopped. Harley held his breath. He didn’t know what was coming, but he knew it couldn’t be anything good.

The doors up front creaked open, and he could hear the sound of boots hitting the pavement, then murmured voices, a few words exchanged. His heart pounded so hard it hurt.

The trunk rattled, then swung open once again. The sudden burst of light made Harley flinch, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before adjusting. He felt Morgan tense in his arms, probably feeling the same way if her fussing was anything to go by.

The woman was standing there, her sharp eyes scanning the two of them. “Hand her over.” she said, clearly not in the mood for any of Harley’s stubbornness.

Harley shook his head before he could think better of it. His arms tightened around Morgan’s little frame, and he moved slightly to the side, so that he wasn’t facing her. “No.”

The woman’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Don’t make this hard, kid.”

Harley could barely breathe. His whole body was shaking, but he forced himself to look up at her. “Please,” he whispered, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “Please don’t take her.”

Something flickered in her expression, something almost like hesitation. But then she sighed, like he was being an inconvenience to her. “I don’t have time for this.”

She reached in, grabbing Morgan by the arm. The baby let out a startled cry, her little hands clamping onto Harley’s shirt.

Harley lost it.

“No!” he screamed, lunging forward. He grabbed at the woman’s arm, yanking as hard as he could. Morgan was crying now, wailing in fear. Harley could barely see through his tears.

The woman’s grip tightened, and then he yelped in pain as fingers dug into his wrist, prying him away like he was nothing. He thrashed, kicking wildly, trying anything to make her let go of his little sister.

“Let her go! Let her go, please! Please!” He screamed desperately.

The woman muttered something under her breath before shoving him back into the car. Harley barely had time to brace himself before he hit the hard floor.

Morgan’s cries grew more distant.

Harley scrambled up, but before he could do anything, a heavy hand pressed down on his shoulder, shoving him back down.

“Enough.”

Harley let out a sob, his whole body shaking. He tried to push up again, but the hand pinned him in place. He could barely breathe.

Then he felt the same sharp prick in his shoulder as he had earlier.

“No!” he whimpered. His limbs felt heavy, his vision starting to blur.

The last thing he heard before everything faded was Morgan’s desperate, hiccupping cries as she was carried away.

  -

Harley woke up slowly, the way you wake up after falling asleep crying. Not startled, not peaceful, just… heavy. His eyelids felt sore, the skin beneath them puffy and raw. He didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he could recall was the cold, the trunk, Morgan crying, then nothing.

He didn’t move at first.

The blankets over him were soft, but not his own. The air wasn’t cold anymore, it smelled like cinnamon and something warm, like an old cabin. For a second, just a second, he almost believed he was home.

But this wasn’t his room. And his home smelt of lilacs and vanilla, not cinnamon and… whatever that other scent was.

He blinked up at the ceiling, wooden beams running across it. The light filtering in from the window was pale and dusty, early morning sun catching little motes in the air. He listened hard, holding his breath to hear anything. But he didn’t. No cars or wind, no waves, no sound of Morgan babbling nearby or her cartoons in the background. Just birds, somewhere far away.

Slowly, he sat up. The bed creaked beneath him, the mattress too big for someone his size. A knit blanket slid from his shoulders, pooling in his lap. Everything in the room looked old but clean, a dresser in the corner, a rocking chair by the window, a lamp on top of a nightstand.

And in his pocket was still the little dinosaur.

His fingers curled tighter around the soft green fabric. Something about it made his throat ache, like the dinosaur was the only thing still left from home. And he supposed it was.

Where was he? Where was Morgan?

Morgan. His lips parted, a shaky breath catching in the back of his throat, and tears welled up in his eyes again. She wasn’t there. He didn’t know where she was. He didn’t know if she was okay.

She was only eight months old.

She needed someone. She needed him.

He folded forward, the dinosaur pressed tightly to his chest, his forehead resting on his knees. The tears streamed down his cheeks silently. No sobs this time. Just shaking, breathless crying that came in waves.

Everything hurt.

He didn’t want this room. He didn’t want the soft blanket or the warm air or the dinosaur. He wanted Morgan. He wanted his mom and dad. He wanted Noah. He wanted to go home.

His whole body ached with it, the hollow, aching missing. No one was coming.

There was no voice calling his name. No footsteps coming down the familiar hall to check on him. Just the slow tick of a clock on the wall, the birds outside, and the stifling quiet of being alone in a place that pretended to be safe.

Harley wiped at his nose with the back of his sleeve. His hands shook as he pulled the blanket tighter around himself, curling back onto the mattress like he could hide himself away.

He didn’t want to look at the room anymore. He didn’t want to see the rocking chair, or the stupid lamp, or the sunlight pretending it was morning.

He closed his eyes.

The dinosaur stayed clutched in his arms, and he imagined, just for a second, that it was Morgan. That she was sleeping there with him. Like she was safe. Like Noah was right there next to him, and his parents were just in the other room.

Eventually, exhausted and hollow and too sad to cry any more, Harley fell asleep again.

  -

The rhythmic tapping of rain against the window was oddly calming. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he could pretend this was just a bad dream, just another nightmare that would fade when morning came. His small fingers squeezed the soft plush of the dinosaur. It smelled like home, like the bedroom he and Noah shared, like safety.

But this wasn’t home.

Harley sat curled up on the soft bed in the unfamiliar room, his heart pounding loudly. His baby sister’s cries still echoed in his ears from when she was snatched away. He didn’t understand. Where was she? Where was Noah? Where were his parents?

“Liam, honey.” A strange woman’s voice startled him from behind. Her words were syrupy sweet, but clearly fake, dripping like poisoned honey as she entered the room.

He flinched. He hated the name. That wasn’t his name.

“I know this is confusing, but I’m your mom now.” She sat on the edge of the bed, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. Her red lips twisted into a sweet smile. “Your old family… well, they didn’t want you anymore.”

Harley’s chest tightened, and he held the dinosaur closer, as if it could protect him from her words. “That’s not true,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “My Mommy and Daddy love me.” He lifted his chin. “And my name is Harley. Not Liam.”

The woman let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, sweetie, sometimes people say they love you, but they don’t always mean it. I mean, why else would they let you go?”

Harley shook his head so hard his curls bounced. No. No, that wasn’t right. His mommy kissed him on the head every night, and his daddy spent hours teaching him and Noah to ride their bikes or swim, laughing whenever they tipped over or splashed around. His parents would never let him go, would they?

“They didn’t let me go.” His voice was barely above a whisper, drowned out by the sound of birds chirping through the open window.

The woman sighed, brushing her fingers along his cheek. He flinched at her touch. “It’s hard to understand now, but you’ll see. I’m your real family now. We’re going to be so happy together, just you and me.”

Harley didn’t respond. He turned his gaze to the window, watching the raindrops race down the glass, watching the trees sway in the wind. He just wanted to go home.

  -

The house itself was warm and cozy, a rustic log cabin nestled in acres of sprawling green land. A slow flowing river snaked through the property, and the house smelled like pine and cinnamon. Inside, the caramel-colored leather couch and the plants scattered across the home made it feel… lived in.

His new room had a comfortable green chair in the corner, and bookshelves lined with every children’s book he could think of. There was a desk for somebody just his size, fully stocked with all the art supplies he could ever want. It almost looked like his and Noah’s room in Malibu. Almost.

Harley quickly realized his new ‘mom’ liked birds. Paintings of them hung on the walls, little ceramic figures of them sat on shelves, and she even kept a notebook filled with sketches of the different birds she’d seen.

She had an art room, where she spent hours painting, and a barn filled with animals. There was a small family of pigs, a few goats, a flock of chickens, and two horses. There was a speckled one that the woman told him was called an ‘Appaloosa’. She told Harley he could name him. He was brown, white, and beige, with kind blue eyes that reminded him of Nala’s. Nala was his and Noah’s dog that their parents had gotten them for Christmas last year.

Harley called him Cooper, after one of his friends from his old school. It was easier to pretend that things weren’t so different when he gave old names to new things.

Rose, that was her name, though she insisted he call her ‘Mom’, had a horse too. A black and white paint horse, named Bear. She let him help with feeding the animals, let him chase the chickens, let him pet the piglets when they rolled over in the dirt. It was easy, at times, to forget the aching, family sized crack in his heart.

  -

Harley, being just a kid, warmed up to Rose more quickly than he thought he would. She was always there, always gentle, always speaking in that soft, careful voice. It was comforting in a way that made him feel guilty. He missed his real parents. He missed Noah. He missed his baby sister. But he could be content here, couldn’t he?

And slowly, over time, Rose’s words started to make sense. Maybe his parents had let him go? Maybe they really didn’t want him. Maybe they still loved him, but not enough to keep him.

Rose never let him dwell on it for too long. She always redirected him with a story, with a treat, a movie, or with a gentle hand running through his curls. She told him he was special, that he belonged here, that he was lucky to have her. And after enough nights of whispering into his pillow, after enough mornings of waking up in this new home, Harley found himself accepting the name ‘Liam.’

But somewhere, deep down, buried beneath the whispers and the warmth and the slow, creeping comfort, Harley still refused to believe that his parents didn’t love him.

And that little, stubborn thought was the only thing keeping him from forgetting who he really was.

  -

Harley sat outside by the barn, leaning against Cooper. The appaloosa had his hooves tucked beneath him, his warm body comforting against Harley’s side. The cool evening air smelled of hay, earth, and wet stone from the nearby river. The sounds of the animals all around him.

Slowly, his eyes drifted up toward the sky. The stars were just beginning to peek through the fading sunset, twinkling bright in the sky without light pollution. It’d been four months since he’d come to live with Rose.

 In the quiet evening, the warm air was curling around him like a blanket, he couldn’t help but think about before. His mother’s laughter rang in his ears, the sound so full of warmth it made his stomach ache with longing. He could see her now, standing in the kitchen, her hair pulled up in a messy bun as she stirred a pot on the stove. His dad was beside her, stealing a taste and getting a playful smack on the arm in return.

Noah sat on the floor beside him, Morgan giggling in his lap. Uncle Rhodey was there too, cracking a joke, and Uncle Happy giving an unimpressed grunt in response, shaking his head. They all secretly knew that the grumpiness was just a front, because there was the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was a good day. A normal day. A day that felt like forever ago.

Tears welled in Harley’s eyes before he could stop them, spilling over onto his cheeks as he twirled his finger around a couple strands of Cooper’s mane.

They had loved him. He knew they had. So why had they let him go?

A broken sob escaped his throat, muffled against the horse’s coat. He wanted to go home. But no matter how much he ached to, he knew he wasn’t going to get out of here.

Because they didn’t want him anymore.

And that was the worst pain of all. The feeling of loneliness. The feeling of being unwanted. He missed his family. He missed his brother.

  -

Harley had always been a quiet kid. Even back before, back when things were normal. He liked books with big pictures and soft pages, liked sitting in warm corners with crayons and drawing animals with big eyes and tiny paws. He didn’t like loud noises or fast crowds. He liked things slow and calm. So, when he came to live with Rose, it wasn’t hard to be quiet. It felt kind of like being under a blanket. Not his, not warm enough, but it kept the cold out most days.

But no matter how many hikes they went on, no matter how many river swims or horse rides they shared, no matter how many warm meals Rose made, none of it ever felt like home.

Because it wasn’t.

And he wasn’t dumb. People always talked like he was too little to understand, but he knew things. He knew his real parents worked. His real mom used to put on nice clothes and kiss his forehead and say, “I’ll be back before bedtime, okay, baby?” and then she did come back. Every time. She always smelled like something fancy, like flowers, and her hugs were warm and strong, like she could hold the whole world together just by squeezing him tight enough.

But Rose never left for work. She was just… always there. Always watching him. She bought cheap cereal and turned off the lights when it wasn’t dark yet. She never bought the snacks he liked. And she got annoyed when he cried too long or asked too many questions.

But then sometimes, she would brush his hair with her fingers and hum real soft, and Harley would close his eyes and pretend she was his mom. Pretend she smelled like flowers instead of laundry soap. Pretending her voice was the one that used to sing lullabies about the moon and the stars. Pretending the way her hand rested on his back was the same way it used to feel when his real mom held him during thunderstorms.

He hated pretending. But it was all he had.

Still, it was Noah he missed most.

They were twins. Not just brothers, twins. Harley didn’t know a word big enough to explain what that meant, but he could feel it. They were supposed to grow up together, side by side. Like puzzle pieces. Peanut butter and jelly. Batman and Robin. One wasn’t supposed to be without the other.

They’d never been apart for more than a few hours, maybe a day at most. One of them might stay home sick while the other went to school, or go out with Dad while the other curled up on Mom’s lap, but even then, they always came back together. Always.

But now... now it had been forever.

Sometimes, at night, when everything was quiet and the world outside was dark, he would pull the blanket up to his nose and whisper into the pillow, “We promised, remember? We promised we’d see each other again.”

He liked to believe Noah whispered it back.

And maybe he did. Harley swore he could tell his brother was out there. Not close, but not gone either. Like he was waiting. Like he was hoping, too.

Rose tried. Really, she did. Harley could tell. They would go out into the woods together, ride horses through the tall trees where the light flickered like golden fairy dust. They’d hike until Harley’s legs hurt and his cheeks were pink with the wind, and sometimes they swam in the river even when the water was too cold and his teeth chattered. And he would laugh. He would laugh so hard his belly hurt, and for a second, just a second, he’d forget how much he missed everyone.

But then he’d look up, and Rose would smile at him in that gentle, soft way she did, and the laugh would catch, and his smile would weaken.

Because her smile reminded him of Mom’s. Less genuine though. And more… creepy.

He wanted to ask where Mom was. Where Dad was. Where Noah was.

But every time he tried, Rose’s eyes would go weird. Not angry. Just… strange. Like she was hiding something behind them, something big and heavy and sharp. So he didn’t ask anymore. He just pushed the questions down until they went away.

Sometimes, when he drew pictures, he’d draw his family. All of them. He’d draw Noah with their matching clothes, holding hands with him. Dad, taller and smiling with one arm around Mom. And Mom, he always tried to get her eyes right. Soft but strong. Like she would protect them from anything.

Once, Rose found a drawing and stared at it for a long time.

“You don’t need to draw them.” she said quietly, almost like she was talking to herself. “You have me.”

But Harley did need to draw them.

Because if he didn’t, he was scared he’d start forgetting the little things. Like the way Mom’s laugh sounded when she got really happy. Or how Noah used to snore just a little when he was super tired. Or the way Dad would carry them both, one under each arm, like superheroes.

And Harley didn’t want to forget.

Because they were his.

And he was theirs.

And even if he was stuck here forever, even if Rose never let him go, he wasn’t going to stop hoping.

Because he was six. And six was old enough to know what love felt like.

And he hadn’t felt that love in months.

  -

The house smelled good. Warm and buttery, with a little bit of garlic and something sweet tucked underneath it all. Harley sat at the small kitchen table with his chin resting on his hands, watching the steam curl up from the big glass baking dish in front of him. Rose was humming, she always hummed when she cooked, and her hands moved fast, scooping up roasted carrots and broccoli with crispy edges, laying a golden piece of baked chicken on each of their plates, and finally setting down a bowl of macaroni and cheese that looked extra gooey today.

“Dinner’s ready.” she said, sliding his plate in front of him with a wink. “No complaining. I gave you extra macaroni.”

Harley grinned, picking up his fork and poking at the noodles like he was inspecting them.

Rose sat across from him, tucking a napkin in her lap like she always did, and just as he took his first bite, she reached for the ketchup bottle.

Harley gasped in mock horror. “Nooo, Mom! Not again!”

She laughed, already squirting a zigzag of red across the top of her macaroni. “What? It makes it so much better!”

Harley scrunched up his nose. “That’s so gross. Mac ‘n cheese doesn’t need ketchup! It’s perfect already.”

“It’s even more perfect with a little tomato magic.” she said cheerfully, giving him a playful nudge with her foot under the table.

“You’re a menace.” he declared, shaking his head with a dramatic sigh, before stabbing a piece of chicken and popping it into his mouth.

She just grinned at him and kept eating, ketchup and all. Her smile was all warm edges and soft light, the kind of smile that made Harley’s chest feel funny and full. The kitchen felt warmer than usual tonight, the lights glowing soft and yellow against the wooden walls, the faint clink of silverware the only sound besides the wind outside brushing gently against the windows.

They talked a little during dinner, about the horses, about how Harley had read the same fictional chapter book twice already and was probably ready for a new one, and then, when he was leaning back in his chair, full and happy, Rose stood and stretched.

“Alright, cowboy.” she said, brushing crumbs off her jeans. “Go get your boots on. I’ll tack the horses.”

Harley’s eyes lit up immediately. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, smiling at his excitement. “You’ve still got some energy to burn, and it’s too pretty out not to go for a sunset ride.”

He scrambled out of his chair like it was a race, laughing as he clumsily shoved his feet into his muddy boots, whose home was by the door when he came inside. He grabbed his jacket too, because even though the day had been warm, the evenings still carried a bit of spring chill. By the time he stepped outside, the sky was painted in soft pinks and purples, like someone had spilled a whole watercolor pallet across it.

The barn sat at the edge of the property, its faded red boards glowing gold in the last of the sunlight. It always smelled like hay, leather and horses in there. Inside, Rose was already buckling Cooper’s saddle into place.

She looked up when he stepped into the barn and smiled that warm smile she always used around him. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi.” he said, running his hand along Cooper’s soft neck. The horse nickered low and friendly, and Harley pressed his forehead to Cooper’s for a second, like a secret handshake, Harley liked to think.

“You want to go along the river tonight?” Rose asked as she tightened the last strap. “Or feel like doing some jumping?”

“Jumping!” Harley said quickly, eyes wide and bright. “Please?”

Rose laughed. “Didn’t think I’d even finish the question. Alright, what are we waiting for then?”

She helped him up into the saddle and adjusted his helmet, making sure it sat snug on his head, the chin strap buckled. He always liked when she did that, there was something about the gesture, steady and gentle, that made him feel safe every time, even though he often felt uneasy around her. Then she climbed up onto her own horse, Bear, a paint horse with black and white splotches, a pink nose, and brown eyes. Together they trotted out of the barn and into the open clearing behind the house.

The air was cool, but not cold, and everything smelled like nature around them. The trees around the clearing swayed softly in the breeze, and birds chirped little songs to each other.

They made their way to the practice field, where Rose had set up a little course of jumps just for Harley’s skill level. Cooper trotted around the course, waiting on Rose. The woman had been the one who had taught him everything he knew about riding. How to hold the reins without tugging too hard, how to keep his legs steady, how to control Cooper and guide him over a jump.

“Alright,” Rose called from the side as she came to a stop. “Let’s see what you’ve got little dude.”

Harley beamed and gave Cooper a gentle nudge. They cantered to the first jump, a small cross-rail, and soared over it like it was nothing. Then another, and another. He loved the way it felt, like flying, almost. Like the world got small and quiet for just a second, like nothing could ever catch him. Not fear, not sadness, not even the missing. Riding was his escape.

By the time he finished the course, he was grinning so wide it hurt his cheeks. He trotted Cooper back over to Rose, coming to a stop a few feet in front of her.

“You’re really good at that,” she said, her voice soft with pride. “Like, really good.”

Harley blushed, ducking his head. “Thanks. I learned from the best I guess.”

“You ever think about maybe competing?” she asked, reaching over to pat Cooper’s mane. “Some of the local shows let kids your age ride. You’d blow ‘em all away.”

His eyes went huge. “Really?” He said, half disbelieving, and half excitedly.

“Really, really.” she said with a smile and a nod. “We could sign you up for the next one, if you want.”

“Yes!” he shouted, bouncing in the saddle. “When is it? Can we go soon? Can we go tomorrow?!”

Rose laughed, and it was the kind of laugh that made the horses’ ears perk up and the birds go quiet for a second, before continuing on with their evening. “Not that soon. But we’ll check the calendar when we get inside, deal?” Rose responded, a grin still spread across her face.

“Deal!” Harley said with that childish excitement that didn’t often shine through anymore.

She glanced up at the sky, which was sliding deeper into blue, the stars just starting to peek out. “Alright, buddy. It’s getting late. Bet I can beat you back to the house!”

“No way!” Harley shouted, already turning Cooper around.

“Then go, go, go!” Rose called, giving Bear a nudge.

They raced across the field, the wind in Harley’s hair, the thunder of Cooper’s hooves below him, both of them laughing loudly enough that maybe you could even hear it from the stars. This wasn’t his home, not really, but it was good. And warm. And it had some idea of love in its own way.

  -

The night had settled and quieted by the time the horses were put away, tucked into their stables with warm hay and blankets, their tack cleaned and stored, the house dark except for the soft kitchen light that was always kept on, even at night, just because Harley was afraid of the dark. Rose washed their dinner dishes, her sleeves pushed up and hands soaked in soapy water, but her mind was elsewhere. Harley’s laughter still echoed in her ears from earlier, sharp, bright, pure joy and excitement, but it was fading now, swallowed by the hush that always came after.

It was always like this. A perfect evening wrapped in smiles and sunlight, followed by the long, echoing quiet that settled into the bones of the house once Harley was tucked away.

Her boots made soft sounds on the wooden floors as she made her way down the hall. She paused in front of the room at the end, the one she still called Liam’s in her head, even though that name wasn’t his. Not really.

Rose stood there in the doorway, her hands curled loosely at her sides, and watched him.

He hadn’t noticed her yet.

He was curled up on the bed, his small back turned toward the door. His small shoulders were hunched, not in sleep, but in something that looked like silence stretched too thin. He was holding that little dinosaur again, the one that was supposed to be used as a keychain. It was always either in his hand or tucked under his pillow once he was in his bed, when he thought no one was watching. She didn’t know where it came from. Probably from before. He never talked about it, but he never let it go, either.

Outside the window, the moon was full and low. Pale silver light spilled into the room and wrapped around him like a halo, softening the edges of his messy hair and small frame.

He looked so small sometimes. So breakable. It was at times like this when she second guessed her decisions to take him in. To take him away from his real parents. His siblings. She knew it was wrong, but she so selfishly cared for the boy.

She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, her eyes on him. Watching. Worrying.

God, she wanted so badly to be enough for him.

She had taught him to ride. She had braided his hair when it got too long and gotten paint for him to create art with when he ran out. She had patched his jeans when he tore them on the fence and cut his sandwiches into hearts because he said stars had less sandwich.

She’d done everything she could to make this place his. To make herself his.

But he still clung to that little dinosaur like it was his world. Still stared out the window like he was waiting for someone to show up out of the dark and take him home.

Rose swallowed hard, her throat aching with guilt. He missed them. Of course he did. His real family. His twin.

She had thought, hoped, that maybe time would soften the hurt. That maybe she could fill those empty places if she was around enough. If she could gain his full trust.

But love didn’t work like that, did it? You can’t force someone to love you, no matter how hard you try.

She had seen the way his eyes drifted at dinner tonight. The way they glazed with the familiar look of pain and grief, just for a second, as if he wasn’t tasting the food or hearing her jokes about ketchup. The way his laughter on Cooper's back had faltered the moment it ended, like he remembered, suddenly, that he was laughing without his family. Laughing with someone who took him away from them. No matter how many lies she fed him, she knew that there would always be that small spark of hope in his little blue eyes.

Rose didn’t know what it felt like to be ripped from your twin. From your other half. But she could imagine. And even just imagining hurt.

Jasmine was right. She thought to herself, bitter and painfully. As insane as she was, she was right.

She let that thought trail off. She couldn’t think the rest out loud. Couldn’t admit to herself that Jasmine was right about this being cruel.

Because it was. She could see it. In the way he never cried, not anymore. Just stared. In the way he never asked about home anymore, but dreamed about it anyway. Sometimes he’d call out in his sleep. He often called out for his family, but most commonly, Noah.

Rose pressed her fingers to her lips.

She had only ever wanted to be a mother. That was it. That was all. She wanted someone to tuck in, to keep warm, to braid hair and read stories to. She wanted someone to choose her.

But he hadn’t. He’d been forced here. Torn away from his family, and placed in a home he had no reason to be in.

Because his heart already belonged to someone else. And no matter how many macaroni dinners or horse rides in the sunset, or bedtime kisses she gave him, that wasn’t going to change.

Rose turned away from the door. She didn’t close it. She never did.

She walked back down the hallway slowly, her footsteps quieter than usual, and sat down on the couch. She didn’t turn on the TV. Didn’t head to the art room, didn’t pick up her book. Just sat there, staring at nothing, the cold beginning to settle under her skin.

Behind her, down the hall, a little boy held a tiny dinosaur to his chest and stared out at the stars, waiting, wishing for a home that he could still remember.

And Rose sat in the dark, wondering if she’d ever be enough to make him forget it.

Chapter Text

-

(Dream/Flashback)

The Stark family was a whirlwind of love and chaos.

Pepper had mastered the art of balancing having three young children, while still managing to laugh at life’s little messes.

Oh- and patience, she has definitely had to learn how to have better patience. Without patience, how would she have delt with the time she had three sick kids, the twins bickering over who gets the green plate and who gets the dinosaur spoon. (Can you tell they like dinosaurs?) While Morgan was screaming at the top of her tiny lungs, all while being sick herself, and not wanting to call Tony home from work?

Tony was the sarcastic glue that held them all together. Forever cracking jokes but always stepping up when it mattered the most.

Their days were anything but ordinary. Both of their four-year-old boys were a dynamic duo of mischief and creativity. They both had such incredible imaginations, and were very advanced for their age, as was Morgan. She guessed that that came with having Tony Stark and Pepper Potts - Stark as parents.

One day the twins would be pirates hunting for treasure (which often included Tony’s car keys) with Morgan being a fairy, and the next they were superheroes who would save baby Morgan from the evil vacuum monster. (Morgan would often be apart of their games, though she didn’t understand that yet.)

-

(Dream/Flashback)

One Saturday morning, the Stark household erupted into its usual lively chaos as soon as the boys woke up (at 5:30am) Noah decided that breakfast was the perfect time to test his theory that pancakes could fly if you threw them at a certain angle. Harley was attempting to dress Morgan into her usual princess dress, to help his mom out. (Yes, they both insist on her wearing a fancy dress because she is obviously the princess of the family.)

Pepper was trying to rescue her coffee from Tony who decided to claim it as his “Dad tax” however, Pepper did not approve. “Go get your own coffee!” Tony gave her his usual cocky smirk. “Awe, but honey, yours always has the perfect ration of coffee to creamer!” Pepper frowned not at all impressed. “Tony, you don’t even like creamer. You like your coffee as black as your heart.” That had Tony reacting with a dramatic gasp of offence. “You don’t mean that, surely!” Pepper just rolled her eyes. They both knew she didn’t.

Morgan interrupted their bickering with a squawk. Tony gave back Pepper’s coffee, pouring himself one, black, of course. Pepper went to attend to Morgan, who was sitting in her highchair, bringing her fingers together and pressing them to her lips signing for ‘more’ pancakes.

-

(Dream/Flashback)

Another weekend, the family (Tony, Pepper, Morgan, Harley, Noah, Rhodey, and Happy) embarked on one of their infamous beach/backyard adventures. Tony had promised a ‘camping trip’, complete with a tent, marshmallows, and not-so-scary ghost stories. While setting up, Tony accidentally broke one of the tent poles, prompting Harley to declare, “Dada needs a time-out!” earning chuckles from all the adults.

By sunset, the backyard was a magical haven. Beautiful colors in the sky turned the ocean a glowy orange for a few minutes. The kids built sandcastles. Kids, meaning Harley and Noah made them and Morgan was right beside them to knock them over.

“Hey Noah, Harley, come make s’mores! The coles are perfect for some gooey, golden marshmallows!” Tony said, scooping Morgan up, who put her tiny arms around his neck.
“Race ya!” Harley yelled as he got a head start, Noah came running right behind him.

When Harley won, Noah sulked. “No fair! You got a huge head start!” Though as soon as he saw Pepper holding out a skewer with two marshmallows on it, he got distracted.

-

Dec 17, 2004

Pepper couldn’t go anywhere in her house without thinking about memories of her babies. Where were they? Were they scared? Were they together?

-

It had been five days. Five miserable, terrifying days. Tony had been working tirelessly. Over almost an entire week, he had only slept for at most 15 hours. He hadn’t eaten a real meal since a few hours before the kids had been taken.

Tony had Jarvis scanning facial recognition, verifying that all adoptions that had gone by in the past two weeks were real, he was constantly asking for updates, even though he illegally had Jarvis set up to tell him whenever they saw a change. He was doing his best. Though that wasn’t enough. It’s been five days.

“Sir, Mrs. boss has used her override code to enter the lab.” Jarvis’s voice sounded from the speakers.

Tony let out a noise of annoyance.

He heard pepper’s heels click into the lab. “Pep, I’m a little busy.” He said in frustration.

“No, Tony, you have to eat, drink some water, and go to sleep! You’re not going to be helping anybody when you pass out from exhaustion or hunger, whichever comes first.”
Tony really did not want to hear it. He remained silent but lifted his mug of cold coffee and a protein bar that he had already taken a bite out of, as if that would prove that he did not need anything.

“Tony, no! Coffee and a protein bar are not substitutes for a real, balanced meal, and sleep.” Pepper chastised.

Tony just rolled his eyes and turned back to the computer screen.

“Tony, you-“ Pepper’s next words were cut off when Jarvis’s voice rung out once again.

“Sir, the FBI are calling.”

Pepper and Tony looked at each other. Their eyes were filled with uneasiness and hope. “Put ‘em through, Jarvis.”
“Hello? This is Tony Stark, Pepper is here too.” Tony said hesitantly, knowing this call could only go two ways. Either they found a lead, or their worst nightmares were going to come true.

“Mr. Stark. This is agent Anderson. We found Morgan.”

There was a moment of silence. Neither Pepper nor Tony could make their mouths move.

“Is she …alive?” Pepper managed to shakily form the words they both needed to know, but neither were sure they wanted the answer.

“Yes. She is alive and unharmed.”

Tony and Pepper both sighed in relief, pulling each other into a hug. Tony tensed back up.

“The boys… are they…?” He asked tentatively, biting his lip as he awaited their answer.

“We haven’t found any leads for them, and it seems that they were separated, though we can’t be sure if Noah and Harley are still together.” Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Where is she? Do you have the kidnapper in custody?” Pepper asked.

“On the way, and we identified them as Tylor and Jasmine Wilde.”

Tony ran those names through his head. He really couldn’t recall ever meeting anyone with those names or last name. “We do not have them in custody.”

Pepper gasped, but agent Anderson continued. “We don’t know how, but they must have had had some heads up and got away before any polices or FBI got there. Or they just left Morgan there alone. Morgan was crying in a crib, alone when we found her. We have had some blood tests done to verify that she is in fact your Morgan. We found her location through a report, actually.

One of their neighbors noticed Jasmine and Tyler outside with a kid. The neighbor and the Wilde’s aren’t close, but they knew that they did not have any children. When they asked about it, Jasmine claimed that Morgan was hers biologically, which the neighbors did not buy. They filed a report, and the story did not match up. There were false adoption papers from an adoption agency that does not exist.”

There was a breath of silence, and he added “Whoever set this up were professionals. Now we have a bit of an idea on what to look for with Noah and Harley.”

He paused. “I have a car on the way bringing Morgan. They’ve been driving for a couple of hours now. Meet us at the Santa Monica police department.”

Pepper stood up. “Okay, thank you, we are headed there now.”

Agent Anderson responded “Okay, we will see you then.”

As soon as the call ended, he called Happy. “Yeah Tony? Is everything alright?” Happy asked, his voice sounded tinny over the phone.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. They found Morgan. We need to get to the police station.” Tony said

“Okay, I’m on my way.” Happy replied

-

They arrived at the Station; they had arrived at the same time as the car that had Morgan. Before Pepper even saw her, she heard her crying and knew that it was her baby immediately. She ran over and took her daughter from the arms of the officer, hugging her tightly. Morgan stopped crying as soon as she was in her mother’s arms, her wailing quickly turned into little wet sniffles.

Tony was right behind her. Pepper had loosened her grip on Morgan, just so that she could look at her and make sure she was healthy and safe. Even though agent Anderson had assured them over the phone, she still needed to see for herself.

Tony sandwiched Morgan between him and Pepper. It felt indescribably relieving to have their daughter back in their arms.

Though they both distantly registered that there was still two great, big Harley and Noah sized holes in their hearts. What if those holes never got filled back in? They refused to think like that. They would find their boys. For now, they just had to be content with having their daughter back.

-

They spent a long time at the police station that evening. They learned the details the authorities knew.

Jasmine and Tyler Wilde had taken Morgan in the night after her abduction via a black SUV. The neighbors did not catch the license plate.

They wouldn’t have sent in a report if the didn’t already know that Jasmine was a little… Hysterical? …Unhinged? …Crazy? ...Not right in the head? Whereas Tyler was never around.

This had obviously not just been the Wilde’s who were in on this. This was big. They had their funds.

This information didn’t make Pepper nor Tony feel any better or reassured.

What if their son’s captor(s) were just as terrible/irresponsible. What if they were hurt? Were they together? They hoped so.

Thank God for nosey neighbors.

-
When they could finally leave the station, it was dark. They got into the car that happy was waiting for them in. They really couldn’t bring themselves to be happy. Their shoulders still hadn’t untensed.
Their boys were still out there somewhere, possibly hurt or alone. Waiting for their parents to come and save them.

Chapter Text

Dec 19 2006
(A week after the kidnapping)

Noah shivered as he sat on the cold hard wooden floor of his 'new bedroom'. The walls were bare. There were no toys, books or decorations. Just him, his twin mattress, and the empty walls. The window had bars on them, and hardly any light filtered in because there was a huge bush right outside his window, making it so that he couldn’t see out. (Or maybe so people couldn’t see in?)

Noah hugged his knees, wishing his brother were there. Harley always comforted him when he was sad or hurt. He missed him.

Or maybe having his little sister crawling around, occasionally coming up to him for some cuddles or to babble about something and get frustrated when he didn't understand her.

Or his parents… The thought made his slow flowing tears that had been falling on and off for the past week start flowing even heavier, a sob escaping his lips. When he was sad, his mom had always laid down with him and lifted her arm up for him to curl up next to her and lay his head on her chest, she would use her just barely longer than her fingertip length fingernails to scratch his scalp, lulling him to sleep.

Or for his dad to drop everything on his busy schedule just to lay on the couch in his lab, Noah sprawled across him, ignoring all the angry text messages and phone calls just to sit there and watch the lion king with his son.

He missed his family. Their faces were so full of laughter and love, they were etched into his memory, and he clung to them like a warm blanket. (Something in which he did not have.)

-

“Are you done crying yet?” snapped Mrs. Parker, the woman who now called herself his mother. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her sharp features casting an even sharper shadow. “Dinner is in thirty minutes. You still need to mop and pull weeds in the front yard before you eat. No food until every single weed is pulled, and the floors are completely spotless. I will be checking. I don’t care if it takes all night.”

Noah nodded silently and hurried to obey. The Parkers had taken him in only a week ago, but their house already felt like a prison. His new name was ‘Peter’ and if he ever mentioned his real name, he would get in huge trouble. Same as mentioning his old parents.

His new ‘dad’ never hugged him or smiled at him, and his mom only did it on her own terms. She talked to him like he was worthless, yet still expected him to love her, to want to hug her and call her mom. She would always make herself the victim, and always ended up making him feel bad when he didn’t hug her or call her mom. They didn’t love him like his real parents used to.

His new parents had told him about how his old parents didn’t care about him anymore, and that they told those bad guys to come and take them away. That they didn’t want him. That they didn’t love him.

-

His only company when he was working, were his own thoughts. He smiled as a memory came to his mind. He was back in the warm embrace of his real home. Harley was chasing him around the playroom, pretending to be a dragon, while Morgan crawled behind, giggling as she waved a wooden spoon around like it was a sword.

As Noah ran, he spotted his mother out on their balcony. She was crouched down, her arms wide open, ready to catch him. He changed directions, heading straight for her.

He ran to her at full speed, and she caught him, twirling him around to shake off the momentum. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, before putting him down and ruffling his hair.

She turned to Harley. “Now aren’t you just the cutest little dragon I’ve ever seen? she said with a smile.

“Hey, Mr. knight in shining armor? Want to put the cheese on the patties as I flip them? Said a voice behind him. Noah turned to see his dad standing next to the grill, making cheeseburgers.

“Yeah!!” Noah said excitedly, throwing his plastic knight helmet to the concreate of the balcony.

His dad scooped him up, grabbing a chair from the lawn furniture and placing it next to the grill. He plopped Noah down and grabbed the cheese.

“Hey mama, what kind of cheese do you want?” he asked his mom.

“Uhmm.. I’ll just do regular cheddar. Thanks!”

“How about you Harley?” Noah asked excitedly

“Mozzarella please Noah!” Harley replied

Noah and Tony made the burgers, and Harley helped Pepper make a salad and Mac n cheese. They all sat down and ate around the elevated fire pit, talking excitedly and looking over the ocean from the balcony. They ate their dinner.

“I’ll always protect you,” Noah said as he grabbed Harley’s little hand in his own. “No matter what…”

-

The sound of crashing plates jolted Noah back to the present. “Peter!” Mr. Parker’s voice boomed. “Get down here now!”

Heart pounding, Noah ran to the kitchen, “I’m sorry,” he stammered, seeing the shards of a plate on the floor.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” Mr. Parker’s growled. “Clean this up and go to bed. You’re not getting any dinner tonight.”

Noah’s stomach growled in protest, but he bent down, picking up the pieces as tears welled up in his eyes. The Parker’s didn’t care about him, he knew that. To them, he was just a tool. A worker. An unpaid servant. A boy who they could mold into a perfect student to show off.

-

Noah sat up in his bed, he noticed that they were soft and comfortable. He looked around to see that he was in his house in Malibu. He turned to the other side of their room, hoping to see Harley. He got up from his bed, making his way over to his brother’s.

When he lifted the covers off him, he found the guy who had kidnapped him and his brother.

Noah stumbled back, trembling. He felt himself back into something, and when he turned around, he saw his parents. They looked angry at him. The same expression that Mr. and Mrs. Parker wore whenever they looked at him.

“We told you to leave, Noah. We don’t want you. We don’t love you.” His dad said, his tone was angry.

“I-I’m sorry dad- I didn’t mean to-“ He stammered out, trying to explain how he got there.

“We don’t care, just leave.” His mom interrupted.

“O-okay, I-I’m sorry.” Noah said

When he turned away from his parents, he was suddenly back at Parker’s house again. His brain finally came back online, and he registered that it was just a dream, but was it true?

Noah quickly learned that the only way to survive here was to keep quiet, get good grades, and work hard. Never leave a mess, always ask permission, and never. get. attached.

-

Chapter Text

March 21, 2008

Liam jolts as the speakers above him start talking. It was the principal giving his daily speech about how he hoped everyone had a good rest of their day, and giving the day’s announcements and bus schedule updates.

As soon as the speakers shut off, Mrs. Garcias, his 3rd grade teacher, started lining everyone up for dismissal. Everyone got a high-five on the way out.

As Liam exited the school, he did a happy little jump from the last step, skipping in the direction of the parent pick up line. His mom should be waiting for him.

Liam was feeling super pumped, because- FREEDOM!! Today was the last day before spring break, so he had a whole week to do whatever he wanted. He had also gotten his progress report card, which obviously had been straight A’s.

If he wanted to, which he did but his mom wouldn’t allow it, he was intellectually advanced enough to be in 5th- maybe even 6th grade, but his mom wanted him to be with people his own age.

It’s not like it really mattered though, because he didn’t have any friends. It wasn’t like people were mean- it was only 3rd grade, But he still didn’t have any friends
He scanned the growing blob of cars, looking for his mom’s blue minivan.

When he spotted her, he ran towards the car.

As he approached, his mom clicked the automatic button that made the side door open, and he crawled in. She pulled to the side to make sure that he was buckled in before they hit the road.

“Hey sweetheart, how was school?” his mom asked.

“It was good, I’m glad we finally get to be on break. I can’t wait to go camping!” Liam said as he buckled himself in.

“That’s awesome. I can’t wait either, it’s going to be a blast.” She said, smiling as she looked at him in the rear-view mirror.

“Anything fun happen?” his mom asked.

“Uhm, not really- I mean I guess I got my progress report?” Liam replied.

His mom let out a dramatic gasp. “Let me see!” she said as she pulled into a convenience store parking lot.

He handed her the folded piece of paper. She read it, her face softening. “Awe, baby! This is great! I’m so proud of you!” she cooed.

Liam looked out the window, frowning.

“What’s the matter sweetie? They are all literally perfect! 100% on everything!”

Liam sighed. “Mom, you know I want to jump grades. This stuff is so boring and easy, a two-year-old could do it.”

Rose frowned. “I know baby. It's better for you to be around people your age though!”

She didn’t want to have this argument. This was good news, and she wanted to celebrate.

“Why don’t we go in and grab your favorite snacks? And some marshmallows? We can have a campfire tonight, and you can have as many s’mores as you want!”

Liam unbuckled himself, pushing the button to open the door. As the door closed, she heard him mumble something about not even having any friends. She chose to ignore that, grabbing her purse from the center console.

-

Liam held his mom’s hand as they walked into the convenience store, the argument quickly forgotten and replaced by thoughts of salty, savory, and sweet treats. They headed to the candy isle first.

Rose looked around the store. It was quiet, only a few people browsing for the best snack options. Her eyes darted towards the cashier, a teenager who was lazily scrolling on his phone. She was always nervous in public, something Liam learned not to question.

He picked out a small bag of wildberry skittles, a packet of Cheez-its, and a lemonade from the refrigerator. He met his mom in the middle of the small convenience store. She was holding a bottle of Dr. Pepper and the promised marshmallows.

“Got everything you want?” she asked with a small smile.

Liam grinned widely. “Yep!” he replied, popping the ‘p’.

They walked over, putting their items on top of the checkout counter, Rose reaching into her purse to grab the required sixteen dollars and sixty-two cents. Both her and Liam spun to face the door as they heard a loud banging noise, followed by the door sharply jingling as it was aggressively swung open. They watched two people dressed in all black walk in.

Rose scooted Liam behind her. She closed her purse and placed it on her butt instead of her hip, so that it was out of her way if she needed to protect her son. Throughout the process, not once breaking eye contact.

The person on the left, wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a black disposable face mask, took a few steps forward at a rushed pace, brandishing a gun. “Everyone down!” he shouts, sending a ripple of panic through the store.

Liam freezes, his heard pounding. The 2nd guy awkwardly leans over the counter and grabbed the money from the register. The teenage cashier took a few steps backward, both hands up.

“Open the safe.” The guy commanded. The cashier nods, moving slowly as to not spook the robber. The cashier enters the pin, but it beeps a denial, the words on the small screen read, ‘incorrect pin’.

The robber, getting impatient, points the gun at the ceiling, and fires. There was a loud, echoing boom that followed.

He pointed the gun back at the cashier, who is now franticly trying and failing to open the stupid safe. “I don’t know the pin! They must have changed it!” he said with a shacky, high pitched voice.

“Well figure it out!” The guy yells, getting more and more impatient.

The second robber scans the people in the store and jumps when he sees a guy on his phone. “Hey! Put the phone down on the ground, face up!” he yells. When the dude doesn’t put the phone down, he grabs the nearest person, who just so happens to be Liam.

As he is yanked up, out of his mom’s grip, she lets out a cry, grabbing her son’s wrist. Before she could do anything though, a gun was held up to Liam, and she quickly let go, holding her hands up.

“Please, don’t!” she cries, “He’s only eight! Please, I’m begging you, let him go!”

“Shut up lady!” he yelled, and she shut her mouth.

“Okay, man, put the kid down. The phone is on the floor. It’s on the ground. Please, don’t hurt the kid.”

“Okay, I’ve got it! Come on!” The 1st robber said to the 2nd guy, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the door. The 2nd guy dropped Liam on the ground, his mom immediately scooping him up and putting him behind her.

The guys flee with the backpack of cash, but not before brushing against a shelf and knocking over a rack of lottery tickets. Just as quickly as they came, they were gone.

-

The six people who were in the store sat in silence for a few seconds. Rose had tears running down her cheeks as she held onto her son tightly. Liam was hugging her just as tightly, crying as well.

They distantly register the phone guy from earlier calling the cops. “Yeah, hi. There was just an armed robbery at (address).” He paused, listening to the operator on the other end of the call. “Yeah, one of em’ held some poor kid at gunpoint to keep people in order.” He paused again. “There are six people here, including the cashier. I’m not sure if there’s anyone in the back. I don’t think anyone’s seriously injured.” He paused to listen to the operator once again. “Okay, thank you. See you soon.”

The guy hung up and looked around. His eyes stopped on Liam. “You alright kid?”

Liam looked at him shyly, backing behind his mom’s leg. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He answered quietly.

“Okay, they said that everyone needs to stay here, they need witness statements.”

Rose froze. She knew the risks of Liam being identified. She decides that it’s a better idea to just stay there. It would look even more suspicious if she refuses, or if they ran away.

-

“Hi, I’m Officer Burkley. I need everyone to step out into the parking lot please.” Elenor Burkley requested, following the group out as they followed directions.

“Okay, so I’m going to have some officers in the shop, and a few of us are going to be out here with you. We are going to take statements and fingerprints to rule out bystanders who may have inadvertently touched surfaces the suspect did. This won’t take long, but please wait your turn. Everyone have a seat.” Elenor said calmly, grabbing her tablet to start taking statements.

As she worked, she noticed the woman on the far end of the group starting to inch away. “Ma’am, we haven’t gotten to you yet, please wait, you can go home as soon as we wrap up here.” She promised.

The woman nodded and sat back down, holding her kid. As she looked at the kid, she felt like she recognized him. Where though?
After a while of staring at him, it clicked.

The woman holding the kid was looking around, specifically at all the officers. She looked anxious.

Elenor went over to one of her co- workers, explaining that she needed to run something through the system, and asked him to keep an eye on the woman on the far left. “I need to talk to Prescott. Keep an eye on her, she already tried to sneak off.” The other officer nodded at her in acknowledgement.

She jogged over to her partner. “Hey Smith? Can I talk to you for a second about something?” She asked, giving the guy her partner had been questioning an apologetic look.
“Sure.” Smith responded.

They made their way to the passenger side of the police car. “Look at that kid. He looks identical to one the missing Stark twins. I have a weird feeling. I think something’s wrong.”
Her partner looked at her, then at the kid. “Yeah, he does. Why don’t I go collect the statement and fingerprints from the mom, and you talk to the boy. I know it’s not protocol to question kids, but if we have reason to, then we shouldn’t have any issues. If he gets flagged, then we find a missing kid, if not, they can go about their day. It won’t hurt to check.” Smith stated.

Elenor nodded and headed over to the kid.

-

Rose watched them nervously as the officers set up a portable fingerprint scanner, her palms sweating. She knew the risks but decided that it would look suspicious if she refused. She scanned her print; her files showing up. She had a clean record.

There was a female officer talking with Liam. She put the scanner next to him, but he drew back. He was scared. This whole situation was so scary and overwhelming. Rose urges Liam to comply, reassuring him with a forced smile.

When Liam places his hand on the scanner, the officer’s demeanor changes slightly. The screen, which was facing away from Rose, flashes with an alert: ‘MATCH FOUND – Missing person: Harley J. Stark’

The officer glances at her partner and then at Liam. They step aside, quietly radioing the discovery to the department. A detective specializing in Harley’s case is contacted and orders the officers to keep them at the scene under the guise of routine follow-up.

-

Rose senses a shift in the officers’ behavior. When one casually asks for her name and ID, she grows defensive. “Why do you need that? I’ve already told you everything I know,” she snaps.

The officer calmly replies, “Its just protocol ma’am. We want to make sure we document everyone who was here.”

As another officer subtly positions himself next to her car, her exit, she panics. Grabbing Liam’s arm, she tries to leave, claiming, “He’s had enough of this. He’s just a kid!”
“Ma’am, I need you to sit back down.” The officer says firmly, stepping in her path.

Rose’s composure crumbles as the officers detain her, gently but firmly separating her from Liam. She thrashes and yells, “He’s my son! You can’t take him away from me!”
Liam, terrified, clings to his mom’s leg, his world spinning. The officer who had talked to him earlier kneeled to his level, speaking softly. “Harley, we’re here to help you. We believe you’ve been missing for a long time. Your parents have been looking for you.” She says in a gentle tone.

Liam looks her in the eyes. “My name’s still Harley? I won’t get in trouble for saying it?”

The woman kneeling next to him looks at him sadly. “No sweetie, you won’t get in trouble. That’s your name. You get to go back to your parents soon. They’ve missed you.” She says gently.

“They have?” he asks, voice full of hope. The officer nodded.

Confused, Liam looks at the woman he’s been calling ‘mom’ for the past two years. Her face twists with desperation, her earlier assurances crumbling under the weight of the officers’ words.

Chapter Text

March 22, 2008

Tony leaned over the workbench on the garage side of his lab, the hum of a classic rock station playing faintly in the background.

His hands were smeared with grease as he tightened a bolt on the engine of an old motorcycle, he had been working on restoring for months.

It was a project he threw himself into to keep his mind from spiraling- a way to keep him occupied when memories of his sons threatened to overtake him.

-

The morning light filtered through the kitchen windows, casting shadows across the room. Pepper stood at the stove, making some tasty Pillsbury cinnamon rolls and scrambled eggs for breakfast.

The sound of Morgan’s giggling drifted through the house as she played with their dog, Nala. Noah and Harley had gotten her as a puppy for their 5th Christmas, which was the year before they had been taken. Noah’s favorite movie was the Lion king, so the obvious choice for a beige Australian shepherd with blue eyes, would be ‘Nala’.

Pepper leaned against the doorway, watching as her daughter giggled. Morgan was playing a game of tug-of-war with the dog. The sound warmed Pepper’s heart, even as it sent a pang of guilt through her.

Morgan had been returned to them after only five days. Five excruciating days where all three of her babies were missing. Taken. Off somewhere away from her. Noah and Harley were still gone. Even two years later, the hole in her heart, burned though by the absence of her boys, was still so vast and unrelenting.

Pepper glanced at the calendar that hung on the fridge. March 22nd, not an anniversary, not a birthday- just another day where she and Tony had to pretend to move forward.

-

As she and Morgan ate (She hadn’t been able to find Tony, he was probably in the lab), she heard her phone buzz from the counter. She stood up, frowning. She wiped her hands before picking her phone up, seeing that he caller ID read ‘Detective Marcus’ from her contacts. Marcus was the detective who had been assigned to the twin’s case.

Her heart quickened. She hadn’t heard from him in months. She swiped her thumb across the screen, answering the call. “Hello?” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Pepper, it’s Marcus. I need you and Tony to come down to the precinct,” he said, his tone urgent.

Pepper’s breath caught. “Why? What’s happened?” she asked, fearing the worst.

“We’ve found Harley.” Marcus said. “He’s safe.”

The room seemed to tilt. Pepper grabbed the counter for support. “Harley?” she whispered. “You… you found him?” Her voice cracked. “Is he okay? What about Noah? Is he…” she trailed off, feeling dizzy.

“No, he’s alone. He is healthy and safe.” Marcus said gently. “No sign of Noah, though. But Harley is alive, Pepper. Please come down as soon as you can.”

Tears blurred her vision as she hung up. She turned toward the kitchen table again, her voice trembling. “Morgan sweetheart, stay here and play. I’m going to call Uncle Happy and ask him to come and watch you. He was just in town, so he shouldn’t be long. Ten minutes at most. Mommy and Daddy have to go out for a little while.” Pepper told her daughter.

Grabbing her purse and throwing it over her shoulder, she kissed the top of her daughter’s head. She rushed down the steps and pressed the door to the lab open.

-

Tony looked up as Jarvis’s voice sounded across the lab. “Sir, boss lady has just gotten off of the phone with Agent Martian. She seems to be in distress. She is headed down to the lab now.” The AI warned.

“Thanks for the heads up, buddy.” Tony replied, concerned. He wiped his hand on a towel, grabbing his jacket and meeting her at the door.

As soon as she came into view thought the glass, Pepper rushed in. “Tony!” she cried, out of breath, her eyes glassy, as if she was holding back tears.

“What? What’s the matter?” He asked, trying to calm her down.

“Marcus called,” she said, her voice shaking. “They found Harley. He’s alive.”

Tony stared at her, his expression frozen. “Harley?” he said, his voice barely audible.

She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “But Noah’s not with him.”

Tony shook himself out of the shock, and grabbed his wife’s hand gently. Opening the door for her, he spoke. “We need to leave; can you call Happy to watch Morgan? I’ll grab the car keys.”

Pepper nodded, grabbing her phone from out of her purse and dialed Happy’s number as she walked.

-

Pepper sat in the passenger seat, her heart racing. As they drove to the precinct, her thoughts bounced between elation and anguish. Harley was alive- Her baby was alive. But Noah was still out there, and the ache for him felt as sharp as ever.

-

Harley sat on the stiff bench, his legs swinging nervously. The room smelled like coffee and something metallic, and the buzz of voices and ringing phones filtered in though the cracked door, making his head ache. He hugged himself, his fingers curling into the fabric of the oversized hoodie he had been given earlier. It smelled strange, like someone else’s laundry detergent. (Probably because it was.)

He still felt dizzy from everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. One moment, he was on his way home from school, stopping at a gas station to get a reward for perfect grades with his ‘mom’, and the next he was in this place, florescent lights flickering above him, people in uniforms, and conversations going on outside of the secluded waiting room.

He remembered something his ‘mom’ had told him. “Liam, I don’t want you saying a word to anyone. You know that they won’t come looking for you, right? They don’t care about you. I’m the one who takes care of you. I’m your mother now. Don’t be ungrateful. I didn’t have to take you in when your parents got rid of you, but I did.”

The memory of those harsh, painful words faded into the memory of that day, only a few hours ago. When the police officers had pulled him away from her, their voices softer, but insistent. “You’re safe now.” They’d said.

Safe. He didn’t feel safe. Everything felt upside down. Rose was gone, locked in a room somewhere else in this big building. And now he was sitting here, waiting for his real parents. The people who had loved and raised him, who he dearly missed. He waited to see people who he wasn’t even sure wanted him anymore.

He twisted his hands together, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. His chest felt tight, and he wanted to go home- not to the cabin he had been stuck in with Rose, but the home he remembered from before. The home that had made him feel safe and loved, the home with the view of a sun-lit beach. Warm hugs. Laughter. A twin brother who was 6 minutes older than him. The home with his family.

Even if his parents didn’t want him, he still had his brother and his little sister.

-

The door to the small room creaked open, and two people stepped inside. A woman with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as tears filled her eyes. The man, who had brown hair and brown eyes, who was beside her froze, breath catching.

“Harley?” The woman he recognized as his real mother, whispered, her voice trembling.

Harley’s stomach twisted painfully. He remembered that voice. Soft and full of love, but it felt so far away now. His grip on the bench tightened as he looked up. “Mama? Dad?” he asked, the words barely audible.

Before he could process what was happening, she was kneeling in front of him, her arms wrapped tightly around him.

Her scent was familiar- lavender and vanilla. It was comforting. It hit him so hard that he could barely breathe for a moment.

“My baby.” She sobbed into his hair. “Oh, Harley.” She whispered, looking at him. She swiped his messy hair back, out of his face. She smiled, eyes filled with tears.

Harley stiffened at first, unsure. Rose’s words echoed in his mind. But he also remembered Officer Burkley’s words. ‘They’ve been looking for you. They’ve missed you. You were kidnapped, not given away.’

He hugged his mom back; his heart has been aching for this warmth he’d been without for so long.

His dad knelt beside them, his voice breaking. “Hey buddy.” He paused, looking at the boy who he had thought he may never see again. “We’ve been looking for you for do long.” Tony took in a shaky breath, “We’ve missed you so much kiddo.”

There it was. The name he hadn’t been called for two entire years. The name that was reserved for only Noah and Harley. Tony’s boys.

Harley threw himself at his dad, wrapping his little arms around his dad’s neck, before drawing back. “But...” his voice was small. “Rose said you didn’t want me. She said you forgot about me.”

His mom pulled back, just enough to look at her son. “Who told you that?” she asked gently, but there was an undertone of anger.

Harley shrunk in on himself before responding “Rose… She said you… you told people to take me away because I was too much trouble.”

He saw his dad’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists before he relaxed. He gently rested a hand on Harley’s shoulder. “Harley, that’s not true. That’s not true at all.”
His mom cupped his face gently. “Baby, we never stopped looking for you. Never. You are so loved. You’ve always been loved. She lied to you, Harley. We would have done anything to find you.”

Harley searched their faces, trying to figure out if this was just another trick. But all he saw was love and pain- the same kind of pain he felt every night when he cried into his pillow, clutching his brother’s stuffed dinosaur, and thinking of his lost family.

Harley pulled the small toy out of his hoodie; he was grateful that it was small enough to fit in his pocket. He brought it everywhere with him.
His mom gasped. “Where did you get this?” She asked, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“Noah gave it to me before we got separated. I haven’t seen him since.” Harley said sadly.

Pepper’s face dropped, but she hugged him again, along with his dad. “We missed you so much buddy.” Tony said. “We did. And we are never letting you go again.” Pepper added with a small smile.

All of the hesitance that Harley had before crumbled, and he let out a small, shaky sob. He leaned into his parent’s embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around them.
“I missed you too. I missed all of you.” He whispered.

His dad kissed the top of his head, holding him close. “You’re home now, kiddo. We’ll never let anything happen to you again.”

Harley’s tears came harder, but this time they weren’t just from fear, they were from relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, He felt loved. Not rose’s strange way of caring about him, but real love that only a parent could have for their kid.

-

As the three of them walk into the door, Tony carrying Harley on his hip, and Pepper holding his hand, He looks around to see that everything looked the same. The familiar furniture and view out of the window made him feel safe and happy.

The morning sunlight poured into the room, filling the home with warmth. He asked to be put down, and hid dad gently plopped him down onto the ground.
There was a patter of steps, overgrown nails tapping against the hard floors as Nala excitedly ran into the room, spinning in circles, jumping up, and licking his face, he saw his and Noah’s dog.

“Hi Nala!” Harley said, petting the Australian shepherd.

His attention was drawn to the living room when he heard a familiar voice. “Harley-“ he heard the chocked voice say. “You found him!” He watched as his uncle Happy rounded the couch. The boy ran over to the man and hugged his uncle’s leg. “Uncle Happy!” Harley exclaimed. He was so happy that he was finally back at home with his family.

Happy crouched down and gave him a proper hug, only letting go when they heard giggling and pounding tiny footsteps running into the living room from the hallway, before he saw a little girl. That must be Morgan. He didn’t know why he hadn’t expected her to have grown.

The little girl gasped when she saw him. “You’re Harley! My big brother!” She squealed, running up to him to give him a sweet and gentle hug.

That made Harley’s eyes blur with tears again. She was the last person in his family he had hugged before he was dropped off at Rose’s house.

“Morgan…” he paused, sniffling. “I missed you so much.” He said with a small smile.

“I missed you too!” Morgan said cheerfully. “Though, I don’t really remember you. But mommy and daddy have told me so many stories about you, and I like to look at the pictures of you and Noah!”

Harley’s heart thudded in his chest as he glanced around. He could hear Noah’s laugh in his mind, see him sitting cross-legged on the floor with heir favorite board game.

The quiet felt wrong.

“Where’s Noah?” Harley finally asked, his voice breaking the stillness. The question was desperate. He needed his brother. He needed him to be safe.

Pepper and Tony exchanged a look, their faces tightening with an unspoken sadness.

“Why isn’t Noah here?” Harley repeated, louder and more panicked this time.

Pepper knelt in front of him, her eyes glassy. She reached out, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “Harley, sweetheart,” she began, her voice trembling. “Noah hasn’t come home yet.”

The simple and gentle words hit him like he had just gotten punched in the stomach. Harley stepped back, his head shaking furiously. “No, he’s coming! He- he has to be here!”
Tony knelt beside Pepper, his hand on Harley’s shoulder. “We’re still looking for him, bud. We’re not giving up. But right now, were so glad you’re safe.”

Harley’s chest tightened as tears steamed down his cheeks, blurring his vision. “But he’s my brother. He has to come home too. He promised!”

Tony pulled him into a hug, his voice cracking. “We’re going to do everything we can to bring him back, Harley. I promise.”

-

Later that night, when the house has quieted, and his parents, Morgan and Happy had already given him a hug goodnight, he slipped out of the cozy guest bedroom his parents had set him up in, and into what used to be his and Noah’s shared bedroom. The twin beds were both still there, toys still on the shelves and in the closet.

He made his way over to the closet, clutching his brother’s stuffed dinosaur. The small toy had been a huge comfort to him over the past two years. The only thing he had left of his twin. A promise.

Harley grabbed what used to be his brother’s favorite sweatshirt. It was fuzzy, white with orange and green dinosaurs of different species strewn across it. He sunk onto Noah’s bed, burying his face into the sweatshirt. The fabric smells faintly of Noah- as well as sunlight and grass from going to the park or playing outside.

Silent tears slip down his face as he whispers into the darkness, “Where are you, Noah? Why didn’t they bring you home too?”

The moonlight mixed with the light pollution from the city below illuminates a family photo on the nightstand. The two boys stand side by side in the picture, identical smiles, yet somehow, they were worlds apart.

-

When Harley woke up, he smelled breakfast. Bacon and muffins if his nose were correct.

He climbed out of the bed and walked sleepily out of the room. He made his way down the hall, looking at the hanging photos as he went. There was one of him and his brother holding swords, dressed in plastic armor, while right next to them sat Morgan who wore a poofy pink princess dress. That had been taken on Halloween. There was another one with the whole family plus Rhodey and Happy, at a restaurant, everyone smiling widely at the camera. Just to the left of that one, hung a picture of everyone on Pepper’s birthday. They had all gone horseback riding.

Oh no- Cooper! The Chickens! All his animals! They hadn’t been fed or let out of their stalls this morning!

Harley ran as fast as he could, skidding on his socks into the kitchen.

Pepper whirled around from where she was at the stove. “Harley, what’s the matter?” she asked, concerned as to why her son was so out of breath and freaked out.
“Mom! My horse! Cooper! He- I need to let him out- And feed th-“ he said frantically.

“Whoa, slow down kiddo, what’s wrong?” his dad said, trying to calm him down.

Harley took a deep breath, slowing down his words to a normal pace.

“I have two horses, a few goats, chickens, and other animals that haven’t been taken care of since yesterday morning. Mama, dad, Cooper is really important to me. I don’t want anything to happen to him, and if Rose was in trouble, she wouldn’t have been able to put the animals in the barn last night, so anything could have happened.” Harley said, thinking about all the bad things that could have happened overnight with nothing to protect them. What if a predator got to them? What if there was a storm? Cooper hated thunder.

“Okay, I’ll have someone assigned to go and take care of them. It’s okay buddy, calm down. I’m sure everything is fine.” His dad said, rubbing a hand up and down on his son’s back.

“Thanks dad.” Harley said, leaning into the touch.

“Dad?” Harley asked, after a few moments. “Yeah, bud?” his dad responded, raising an eyebrow.

“Can we bring Cooper here? I think he’d like the beach.” Harley asked with a hopeful smile.

“Sure, kiddo. As long as you take care of him.” Tony responded, ruffling his son’s hair before going back to cooking breakfast.

-

The next morning, Harley sat at the kitchen table, poking at a bowl of soggy cereal. Morgan chattered on about her dolls, but Harley barely heard her.

A knock at the front door startled him. He glanced up as Tony opened it, revealing a tall, dark-skinned man with a broad smile and kind eyes.

“Uncle Rhodey!” Harley’s heart lept as he slid from the chair, rushing to the door.

Rhodey crouched just in time to catch Harley in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground.

“Harley! I’m so glad to see you buddy. We missed you so much.” His uncle said, his voice was thick with emotion.

Harley clung to him, not wanting to let go of his family ever again. “I missed you too.”

Rhodey set him back on the ground, pulling back from him just a little, to rest his hands on his nephew’s shoulders. “Look at you. You’ve gotten so big!” He paused, his smile faltering as he searched Harley’s face. “How are you holding up?”

Harley glanced at the floor, his lip quivering. “Noah didn’t come home.” Harley whispered.

Rhodey’s expression darkened, and he pulled Harley close again. “I know, kiddo. I know. But we’re not giving up, okay? We’re going to find him.”

Harley nodded; his cheek pressed against Rhodey’s shoulder. “Promise?”

“We will do everything we can, I can promise that.” Rhodey said firmly.

-

That afternoon, Rhodey stayed with Harley, helping him adjust in ways that only he could. They played a board game on the living room floor, talked about superheroes, and silly stories of his dad being Ironman. They took a walk on the beach, Harley introduced Rhodey to Cooper, showing him how good a rider Harley was, even having Cooper do some jumps.

Rose had been teaching Harley how to jump for the past few months, and he was getting pretty good. They had been planning on entering him and Cooper for a show jumping competition that Fall. Maybe he still could. He would need a new instructor.

-

At one point, during their walk, Rhodey pulled a small photo out of his wallet and handed it to Harley. It was a picture of the twins on their 5th birthday, grinning as they held matching slices of cake.

“I’ve kept this with me,” Rhodey said. “Every single day. It reminds me of how much you two mean to me.”

Harley stared at the photo, his fingers brushing over the edges. “It feels wrong, not having him here.”

Rhodey crouched down to meet his eyes. “I know. But you’re one of the strongest kids I’ve ever met. Noah’s out there, and he’s thinking about you, just like you’re thinking about him. That connection? It’ll bring you two back together.”

Harley blinked back tears, nodding slowly.

-

Rhodey and Happy became an even more constant presence than they had been before in the following weeks. They would visit often and helped Harley adjust. They encouraged Harley to share his feelings, whether through drawing, writing, or simply talking.

They were there for Harley to talk to about Noah. His parents have been nothing but kind and loving to him, but he could see the pain and grief on their faces whenever he mentioned his brother, so it was nice to have someone to talk to about it without reminding his parents of their missing son.

-

Happy looked around as he headed to his car, he was calling it a night and heading home, when he saw the figure of a horse lying on the grass, a few yards from the driveway.
His initial thought was that Cooper had been hurt, but when he approached the animal, he found Harley lying on the other side of him.

“Hey, buddy? What are you doing out here?” Happy asked.

Harley jumped when he heard his voice, sitting up straight before relaxing when he realized it was just Happy.

“Nothing, I just came out here to feed Cooper.”

Happy snorted. “Really? Because I thought the barn was on the other side of the house..?”

Harley stood up, smiling at his uncle. “Yeah, well, he wanted to go for a short ride.”

Happy looked at the boy, amused. “And that involves laying down?”

The boy gave him a small punch on the shoulder, rolling his eyes, still smiling.

The two of them and Cooper walked back to the barn, which Tony insisted on being super fancy and matching the house. Plus, it had like- 10 stalls, even though there was only Cooper, and a pony Morgan had gotten when she realized that Harley got a horse.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, before Harley broke it. “Do you think Noah can see the stars?” He asked.

“I think he can.” Happy said with a small smile. “And I think he’s wishing on them just like you are.”

Harley ran a hand across Cooper’s neck as he walked him into the stall, gently taking the lead and bridle off, and closing the stall door, kissing him on the snout, and running his hand up and down between his ears, before closing the barn up.

They talked on their way back to the house. Stopping at the door and turning around to face Happy, he hugged the man. “I’m glad you’re here, Uncle Happy.”

Happy’s heart warmed. (though he would never admit that his heart’s not cold as ice) He responded, “I’ll always be here, Harley. No matter what.”

-

Chapter Text

June 6th, 2008

Peter stood in front of the window that faced the front yard, watching as his parents’ car pulled away from the driveway. They were leaving again. Just like they always did. This time though, they would be gone for two weeks.

They’ve been gone for longer in the past, but he liked it better when they were only gone for a couple of days.

He had two whole weeks with nothing but this house, his tasks, and the desperate need to prove himself. The car’s engine faded as it turned the corner of their neighborhood, and the house fell into a suffocating silence.

His stomach knotted. The house seemed even bigger now. Lonelier. He glanced at the clock. He had exactly two weeks to get everything perfect.

“We’re leaving you in charge of the house,” his ‘father’ had said with a cold and unfriendly voice, before he slammed the front door close. “Don’t screw anything up, Peter. The house needs to be spotless, and dinner better be ready when we return.”

Peter’s heart pounded, and he forced a quick nod. “Yes, Father,” he whispered under his breath, looking down at his feet.

His "mother" had barely even acknowledged him before she dragged her suitcase to the car, placing it in the trunk before making her way to the passenger seat and opening her phone while she waited. She never acknowledged him, not unless it was to give cold, rude orders or to criticize something he had done wrong. “Don’t touch anything, Peter,” she had muttered, tossing him a glance over her shoulder as she grabbed her suitcase. “And don’t forget to finish your schoolwork. You need to stay ahead of your classmates. No excuses.”

Peter swallowed. Of course, there could be no excuses. Ever. Not when they expected perfection.

He watched as the car disappeared, leaving him behind, alone in this cold house that never felt like home. This place, with its cold, sterile rooms and long hallways, felt more like a prison than anything else.

But he wasn’t allowed to complain. He learned that the hard way. He wasn’t allowed to be anything less than perfect. He learned that the hard way as well.

-

(Flashback to the first night Peter was left alone, age: six)

The house felt impossibly large, every sound magnified in the absence of his "parents." The silence pressed in on him, the walls too high, the rooms too empty. He could hear his own breath, shallow and quick, as he wandered aimlessly through the house, trying to avoid the echo of his footsteps. It wasn’t the first time they had left him alone, but it never got easier.

He never had any toys. His parents never got him any, because he didn’t deserve them because of how badly he behaved. He always seemed to mess things up.

He glanced at the list his ‘dad’ had left on the counter. It was a simple task—clean the kitchen. That was all. But as Peter looked around at the spotless kitchen, he realized there was one thing he hadn’t done right. A small smear of grease on the corner of the sink.

Peter froze, staring at it. His chest tightened. It was such a small mistake—who would even notice? But he knew they would.

They always noticed.

His dad would see it, and his mom would scoff. They would be angry. And he couldn’t bear the thought of them being angry at him.

He quickly wiped it away, but it wasn’t enough. The smear was still there, no matter how hard he tried to scrub it off.

-

(Back in the present)

Peter stood in the kitchen, staring at the rice. He had done everything right, he thought, He had cleaned the house, cooked dinner, finished all of his school assignments, and then some.

But now, this? This simple mistake with the rice? He hadn’t paid attention, and now the smell of burning food filled the air. The stupid stove had gotten too hot, and the water had cooked out. The rice was burnt to the bottom of the pan.

His hands shook as he pulled the pot from the stove, but the damage was done.

The rice at the bottom was black and inedible, the more he tried to fix it, the more the burnt rice would mis in with the still edible rice.

His stomach twisted in dread as he stared at the ruined meal. He couldn’t believe it. He had worked so hard to make everything perfect. How could he mess up something so simple?

If only he hadn’t been messing around and reading his textbooks.

The front door opened with a creak, and the sound of his "father's" voice carried through the hallway. Oh no. His parents were home! His stomach filled with dread.
“Peter?” His dad called. “Where are you, boy?”

Peter took a deep breath and rushed to the living room, trying to force a smile. “I-I’m right here, Dad. Dinner’s almost ready.”

His father entered the kitchen, inspecting. His gaze sweeping over the room. The man’s lips curled into a thin smile, but there was no warmth in it. Just coldness. He glanced at the stove, then at the pot Peter was holding, his eyebrows furrowing.

“What’s this?” His voice was sharp, eyes narrowing. “This looks like a disaster.”

Peter’s stomach lurched. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his voice trembling. “I wasn’t paying attention. It’s just rice- let me fix it-”

“Fix it?” His father sneered. “You’ve had all day to make a simple meal. And this is what we get? This is what you call dinner?”

Peter’s throat constricted, and he fought to keep his voice steady. “I-I’m sorry, Dad. It won’t happen again. I can make something else.”

His "father" didn’t answer immediately. He just stared at Peter, his gaze piercing, as though he were trying to assess something deeper. Then, slowly, he spoke.

“You know, Peter,” he said coldly, “You’re supposed to be smart. The one who always gets perfect grades. The one who can solve all those complicated problems. But you can’t even make a simple meal. How do you explain that?”

Peter’s heart sank. His palms were sweaty, his mind racing. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Enough,” his father snapped, his voice like ice. “I’m tired of your excuses. Tired of hearing you whine about every little thing. You’re supposed to be better than this.”

Peter opened his mouth to apologize again, but his father cut him off with a wave of his hand. “You failed, Peter. And you need to understand that actions have consequences.”
Peter blinked; his throat tight. He could feel the weight of his mistake pressing down on him.

“From now on, you’re grounded,” his father said. “And not just from your usual privileges. You’re grounded from school.”

Peter’s mind went blank. “What?” His voice came out in a whisper, barely a breath. “No. Please…”

His "father" stood still, his eyes narrowed and angry. “Did you just say no to me?” The man said, his voice growing louder.

When peter realized his mistake, he opened his mouth to apologize and explain that that’s not what he meant, but his father interrupted him. “You don’t need school if you can’t even take care of the simplest tasks at home. You’re not going anywhere. I want you to stay here, in this house, and learn how to fix your mistakes. You don’t need to be running off to school to hide from your responsibilities.”

“Please…” Peter choked out, he was begging, his parents hated begging.

The tears threatening to spill. “School is… is the only place where I can… I can be good at something. Where they don’t…” His voice broke, and he quickly wiped his eyes, but it was too late. His "father" had already turned away, uninterested in his plea.

“Go to your room,” his father said, his voice final. “Stay there until we get back. And don’t think about touching any of your books. No more escaping into your little fairyland, you need to think about your actions and disrespect.”

Peter stood frozen for a moment, the weight of his punishment sinking in. School, the one place where he could hide, where his intelligence and curiosity were valued, was now taken away from him. He felt the world crumbling around him, the tiny shred of freedom he had left torn away.

But he didn’t have a choice. His father had made his decision.

-

That night, Peter sat alone in his room, staring at the wall. His heart was heavy, his mind racing. The sound of his parents’ downstairs was muffled and distant, as if they were in another world entirely.

In this room, with nothing but his own thoughts, Peter was utterly alone.

The textbook on his desk beckoned him, but he couldn’t reach for it. He couldn’t learn. He couldn’t escape. What if his father came up and saw him with it? He would be disrespecting him even more if he chose to go against his direct orders.

All he had to keep him company was his failure. The small, burning mistake that had led to this moment. And the cruel, cold silence of the house that now felt more suffocating than ever.

He wiped his eyes again, but the tears kept coming. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to feel like this. But he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop the weight of everything pressing down on him.

After a long while, Peter closed his eyes, his breath shaky, but steady.

No matter how badly he wanted to go back home. Not this cold, terrible house, The home he had from his memories. Warm sand, his brother, the smell of lavender and vanilla, the warm arms that smelled of coffee and motor oil. But he knew he couldn’t. They didn’t want him anymore.

He would just have to keep going. Keep believing that things would get better. He had no other choice. Even if no one noticed, even if no one cared, he would keep going, keep learning. He would survive.

Somehow.

(MIND YOU, THIS POOR KID IS ONLY 8 IN THIS CHAPTER!) :c

Chapter Text

March 12th, 2012

The sun was beginning to dip behind the rolling hills of the equestrian center, casting a warm orange glow over the expansive arena where Harley stood with Cooper.

His hands gripped the reins, his heart was racing in excitement. Tomorrow was the big day! The competition he had been training for all year – well, he had done a bunch of smaller competitions, but this one was the biggest he’s done so far.

The nerves were there, no doubt, but his coach, Lillian, had been with him every step of the way, and tonight's practice would be the finishing touch.

“Alright, Harley,” Lillian said, her voice steady and calm despite the excitement bubbling beneath her professionalism. She stood by the edge of the arena, arms crossed, a watchful eye trained on the two of them.

Her short brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her white hat shaded her face, as she analyzed his and Cooper’s movements. She was a really great teacher in Harley’s opinion. “Let’s see that last bit. Remember what we said yesterday.” She said, her voice is kind, but commanding.

Harley nodded, giving Cooper a soft pat on the neck. The Appaloosa stood tall, his distinctive coat of white with brown and beige spots gleaming in the fading light. Despite his wild coloring, Cooper was steady and reliable — a rock for Harley to rely on in every competition.

The two of them had spent countless hours together, and Harley knew they were ready.

With a deep breath, Harley nudged Cooper into motion, guiding him forward. They trotted around the ring, steady and focused.

He felt the smooth rhythm of the movement beneath him, and the steady beat of Cooper’s hooves hitting the ground.

As they passed a set of small jumps, Lillian’s voice called out.

“Try to keep your shoulders back, Harley. Don’t collapse. And remember, focus on keeping your legs light. Don’t grip with your knees.”

Harley adjusted, sitting up straighter. His legs relaxed, keeping their light touch on the sides of the horse. He and Cooper had spent hours working on this exact thing — relaxing his lower half so Cooper could jump with more fluidity. They’d spent months preparing for this day, and now it was all coming together.

“Good. Now, into the canter. Get the rhythm right before the first jump.”

Harley nudged Cooper again, encouraging him into a smooth canter. Cooper’s movements were fluid, his pace even and controlled.

Harley felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as they approached the first of several jumps, a small cross rail barely three feet high. It was nothing complicated, but precision was key.
“Keep your hands steady,” Lillian called from the side. “And don’t forget to look ahead — you need to focus on the next jump, not the one you’re jumping over. Remember, eyes up, heels down.”

Harley barely had time to nod before they were barreling toward the jump. His heart pounded in his chest as they closed the gap, but he felt Cooper shift underneath him — muscles tensing as they prepared to launch into the air. The jump was over in a flash. Cooper’s hooves hit the ground with a soft thud, and Harley barely felt the impact, absorbed by his steady posture.

“Nice work,” Lillian said with a proud smile. “Good timing. Now, focus a little more on your turns. You’re doing great.”

Harley exhaled, trying to relax his shoulders. They’d done this hundreds of times, but the pressure of competition always made everything feel just a little more intense. He tried to shake the nerves out of his limbs and refocus as Lillian walked alongside the arena, offering gentle guidance.

“Remember, the course is a challenge tomorrow,” she continued. “There are going to be times when Cooper will get a little excited, and it’s up to you to keep him calm and focused. He trusts you, Harley. He’s got this, and so do you. Just stay in control.”

Harley nodded again, feeling the comforted by Lillian’s words. He didn’t always have the easiest time calming his own nerves, but when Lillian spoke to him like that, it gave him the courage to keep pushing forward.

“Alright,” Lillian called as they completed a circuit of the arena. “Let’s wrap this up. Time to get Cooper settled in.”

Harley trotted Cooper to the stables, their routine now set in muscle memory. As they neared the barn, the big doors swung open, revealing a spacious stall that had been prepared just for Cooper. Harley dismounted, gently guiding the horse into the stable.

“You did great, buddy,” Harley whispered, brushing the sweat off Cooper’s glossy coat. He fed the horse a treat, an apple slice, and Cooper gratefully nibbled on it, his ears flicking back in contentment.

Lillian approached, offering a quick nod of approval. “You’re ready. Remember, tonight’s all about rest. Get a good night’s sleep, hydrate, and stay focused. You’ve put in the work. Tomorrow, you show them what you’re made of.”

Harley smiled, feeling the weight of her encouragement settle in his chest. He glanced at Cooper again, offering one more affectionate pat on his shoulder, before closing the stall door.

“Thanks, Lillian,” Harley said. “I’ll be ready.”

Lillian clapped him on the back. “I know you will be. Go get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

With that, Harley grabbed his bag, gave one last glance at Cooper, and left the stable. His heart was still racing from the practice, but now it was a mix of anticipation and excitement. Tomorrow would be the big day.

-

When he stepped outside, he spotted his dad leaning against the car. He was always an easy presence to spot, with the suit and sunglasses and all. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he watched Harley approach with a teasing smile.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony called out, a grin spreading across his face. “Ready to show everyone who’s boss tomorrow?”

“Of course I am!” Harley shot back, smiling proudly. “I’ve got Cooper on my side. We’re gonna crush it!”

“Yeah, well, I hope you’ve learned how to do it without falling off this time,” Tony said, arching an eyebrow with a mock-serious expression.

Harley rolled his eyes. “You know, for someone who claims to ‘know nothing about horses,’ you sure have a lot of opinions about riding.”

Tony chuckled. “Hey, I’m just saying, there was that one time… you know, when Cooper thought the jump was a suggestion, not a rule?”

“I told you! That jump was not to spec! It was rigged!”

“Right, right,” Tony said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “My bad. It was rigged. Still, maybe tomorrow you should, I don’t know, aim for the middle of the jump instead of trying to launch Cooper into orbit?”

“I’ll aim for the middle, Dad. But I’ll also make sure to impress the crowd with my mid-air acrobatics,” Harley shot back with a grin.

Tony’s chuckle echoed as he opened the car door for Harley. “Alright, alright, Show Off. Let’s get home so you can eat something that isn’t full of horse treats. Your mom’s making chili and cornbread for dinner.”

“Is this a trick? Are you going to sneak those nasty licorice flavored jellybeans into it again?” Harley asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Only if you’re not paying attention,” Tony replied, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “You gotta keep your guard up, kid. Besides, that was so perfect! They fit in perfectly with the regular beans!” Tony said, laughing at his own joke.

Harley groaned, not at all amused. “I’m not falling for it this this time! That was disgusting.”

Tony laughed as he started the car. “Alright, I’ll leave your chili alone. You’ll need the energy for tomorrow anyway.”

As they pulled away from the equestrian center and drove toward home, Harley felt the familiar comfort of his dad’s humor and lighthearted teasing. He was lucky to have him.

-

The drive from the equestrian center felt like it took a little longer than usual. Maybe it was the mixture of excitement and nerves that had Harley staring out the car window, the colors of the evening sky a blur as his dad hummed along to the radio. He’d always loved the music his dad played, which was classic rock, mostly.

It was one of those little things that always made him feel at home.

“So,” Tony said, glancing over at Harley with a proud grin. “You’re gonna knock them dead tomorrow, huh?”

“Definitely,” Harley replied, grinning back. “Cooper and I are a solid team. We’ve got this.”

“Good. You should be confident.” Tony gave a small, approving nod. “But not too confident. Your mom says not to encourage any arrogance, apparently, she ‘Doesn’t need a mini me’.”

Harley laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try to keep my ‘mid-air acrobatics’ to a minimum.” He smiled.

Tony chuckled and turned the wheel as they approached their Malibu beach house, pulling into the driveway with a smooth motion.

The house was modern and sleek, with large windows showing the beautiful view of the ocean. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was a constant in their home, something that always made Harley feel grounded, even when sometimes everything else seemed uncertain.

It was home.

As they got out of the car, Harley heard the familiar sound of his little sister, Morgan, chattering away in the living room. Her voice carried through the open door as she babbled on about something. He couldn’t quite catch the words, but the joy in her tone made him feel warm.

The door swung open, and Morgan came barreling out, the little girl was bouncing with energy. She was only four, but she had the enthusiasm and intelligence of someone three times her age.

“Harley!” Morgan squealed, throwing her arms wide and nearly toppling over in the process. “I saw a dog at the park, and it had a hat on! A real hat! It looked like a person! It was a hat dog!”

Her straight brown hair blew around her face in the wind as she grinned up at Harley.

He knelt down to her level, trying to hide his smile as he played along. “A hat dog, huh? What kind of hat did it wear? Was it a cowboy hat?”

Morgan’s eyes lit up. “Yes! It was wearing cowboy hat! It was so silly! I think it was a little shy because it didn’t bark, just wagged its tail like this!” She demonstrated with wild arm flailing.

“Well, that sounds like a pretty cool dog,” Harley said with a grin, holding her hand as they walked into the house. “I’ll keep an eye out for him tomorrow.”

Morgan giggled, her laughter ringing through the house like music.

Inside, the house smelled like dinner, the smell of spices and meat wafted to his nose. The comfort and familiarity of it all wrapped around Harley like a warm blanket as he entered the living room.

His mom was sitting at the kitchen table, her strawberry blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She looked up from her phone as Harley walked in, and her face immediately softened into a warm smile.

“Hey, kiddo,” she said, getting up to give him a hug. “How was practice?”

Harley smiled into her embrace, feeling the weight of the day’s pressure melt away in her arms. His mom had always been his rock, the person who could make everything feel alright just by being there. “It was good,” he said. “Lillian says I’m ready. Cooper’s been on his best behavior, so that’s a plus.”

“That’s great to hear,” Pepper said, pulling back to look at him, her eyes bright with pride. “I know you’ve been working hard, Harley. We’re so proud of you.”

Morgan jumped up and down next to the table, her energy uncontainable. “We’re gonna have chili and cornbread for dinner! I love cornbread! And chili! I helped mommy make everything! But she said that we had to have a salad and broccoli with it… bleh.” She said, making a disgusted face at the thought.

Harley laughed and gave her a playful push. “I like broccoli.”

Pepper fixed Morgan with a disapproving glare. “You need to eat vegetables, or no desert.”

Morgan stopped bouncing for a moment and stared at her with wide, horrified eyes. “Okay, I’ll eat them!”

“Good choice.” Pepper smirked, turning to finish up on dinner, before looking back at Harley. “Go take a shower. You stink.”

Harley laughed and turned to head to his room.

-

As they sat down for dinner, the table was filled with the usual warmth of family chatter. Morgan continued to tell random stories, mixing up details and adding new facts, while Tony and Pepper exchanged teasing remarks about their days. Harley listened in, feeling a quiet kind of happiness that only family dinners could bring.

“Harley, are you nervous about tomorrow?” Pepper asked, taking a spoonful of chili. Her voice was gentle, as though she didn’t want to add any more weight to the day than necessary.

“A little,” Harley admitted, poking at his cornbread. “But mostly, I just want to make sure I don’t mess up.”

“You won’t,” Tony said confidently. “You’ve put in the work. You’ve been riding for years now, and you’ve got Cooper. Just focus, and the rest will take care of itself.”

“I hope so,” Harley said, a small frown crossing his face as he pushed his food around a little more. The excitement for tomorrow was still there, but in the back of his mind, there was that quiet ache. The reminder that tomorrow wasn’t just about him. It was about proving something to himself, about showing his family that he could be the best, despite everything that has happened.

“Hey,” Pepper said, noticing the shift in his demeanor. She reached over and placed a hand on his arm, her touch soft but steady. “Whatever happens tomorrow, we’re going to be proud of you. You’ve come so far, and we love you. You’re our little champion, no matter what.”

Harley smiled, the heaviness in his chest lifting. “Thanks mom.”

Dinner went on, the conversation flowing easily, but Harley couldn’t shake the thought of Noah. He wondered what his brother was interested in? It had been six years since him, Noah, and Morgan where taken. Morgan had come home safely. Harley had too. But Noah… Noah was still gone. They didn’t know if he would ever come home.

It was hard, sometimes, to smile when part of his heart was still missing. Part of his family wasn’t whole. The rest of his family hadn’t gotten over Noah, but Harley still thought of his brother every day. It must have been something to do with being twins.

He shook his thoughts away, focusing on the conversation his family was having.

After dinner, Tony cleared the dishes and started a pot of coffee, a habit that had become more frequent lately. Harley knew his dad had always been one to stay up late, and it was during these quiet nights that they would stay up late talking to each other. Sometimes they would go to the lab, others they would sit on the couch.

Tonight, they sat together on the couch. It had started as a family movie, but Morgan needed to go to sleep. When Tony went to check on them after an hour of waiting to unpause the movie, he found that she had fallen asleep next to Morgan.

“Looks like its just us tonight, bud. Do you want to keep watching this, or something else?” Tony asked.

“Mom really wanted to watch this, let’s find something else.” Harley responded, moving over to give Tony room to sit, even though the couch was huge.

Tony sat down and laid his head on the arm rest, Harley moving around until he was comfortable, laying down at his dad’s side, his head using Tony’s arm as a pillow.

They turned on the next episode of the series they had started watching whenever Pepper had work to do or if she fell asleep during a movie or while she was putting Morgan to bed.

When the episode ended, and the credits started playing, they just sat there in silence until Tony broke it after a few moments

“Hey, kiddo?” Tony said, scratching his fingers through Harley’s curls. The ocean breeze drifting in through the open windows. “Yeah?” Harley responded, looking at his dad expectantly. “You’re gonna do great tomorrow. We believe in you buddy. And I just want you to know, we’re so proud of you, and I know that Noah would be too. We love you so much, kid.”

Harley’s heart swelled, the simple words meaning everything. And it wasn’t just the words; it was the way his dad said them, like he really meant it, like he was rooting for him more than anyone else in the world.

“I love you too, Dad,” Harley said quietly, his voice full of emotion he didn’t always know how to express, especially after Rose. She didn’t like it when he showed his emotions and would always gaslight him into feeling like his feelings weren’t valid instead of just comforting him.

Tony smiled, giving him a gentle hug. “Get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow’s a big day.”

Harley nodded and headed up to his room, his mind buzzing with anticipation. But just before he closed the door, he turned around to look at the photos on the wall- the family photos that were like windows into the past. And in most of the older ones, Noah still smiled back at him. He would still be a part of their family, no matter how much time passes.

Tomorrow, Harley planned to ride for them. For himself, for his family, and for Noah.

-

Harley’s alarm blared to life at 6:00 AM, pulling him from a deep, dream-like sleep. His body was still heavy with the warmth of his blankets, the soft hum of ocean waves lapping against the beach outside his window.

The morning was quiet, nice and peaceful. But Harley knew today was going to be crazy. He already felt anxious. His heart started to pound in his chest as he reached over to silence the alarm.

Competition day.

The thought hit him hard. His last practice with Cooper yesterday had gone really well, and he’d felt like they were more than ready, but the inevitable nerves had already settled into his stomach.

This was real. This wasn’t just a practice ride or a local event. Today was a competition with riders and horses from all over the United States, and Harley was determined to give it his all.

He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and stood up. The floorboards were cool under his feet, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth of his blankets. As he glanced around his room, memories flooded back.

Posters of famous show jumpers, superheroes, and Harry Potter were scattered across his walls, and photos of him and his twin brother, Noah, from when they’d been much younger smiling laughing, playing Legos, or building things in the sand hung in several places.

It still stung, the absence of Noah. Harley could feel the familiar ache in his chest when he thought about his brother.

He wished Noah could have been here today. He picked up that stupid little dinosaur keychain Noah had given him and shoved it in his pocket along with a polaroid photo of the two of them on surf boards, grinning up at the camera.

With a deep breath, Harley shook off the sadness and thoughts. Today was about him and Cooper.

He grabbed his favorite navy-blue hoodie off the chair, tugging it over his head. The smell of the barn. The scent of hay, leather, and dirt still clung to the fabric. It comforted him. He needed that right now.

“Harley, breakfast is ready!” his mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

A soft smile tugged at his lips. His mom always had a way of grounding him, calming the anxiety that always crept in before big events.

Though this would definitely be the biggest event he’s been to, Harley knew this would be no different. He could always count on his family to support him, no matter what.

-

After taking a shower, getting dressed, He made his way downstairs. The first thing he noticed when he got to the bottom was the scent of fresh pancakes and sizzling bacon.

The kitchen was bustling with activity, Tony was sipping coffee and looking over competition details on his tablet, while Morgan was chattering away excitedly at the table.

“Morning, buddy.” Tony said, looking up from his tablet. His face was as calm and steady as always, but there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Ready for the big day?”

Harley tried to smile but found his nerves had settled deeper into his stomach. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up,” he admitted, he was both half-joking, and half-serious.

Pepper, who was standing at the stove, turned around with a raised eyebrow. Her bright smile was contagious. She walked over to Harley and gave him a long, tight hug. He looked at him with that one ‘mom face’ were rushing his hair out of his face as she pulled away. “You’ve trained for this. You’ve done everything you can. Just remember, it’s another ride. Just you and Cooper.”

Harley closed his eyes for a moment, her words sinking into his chest. He took a deep breath.

“Thanks mom,” he said quietly, squeezing her hand before turning to sit down at the table.

Breakfast passed quickly, with Morgan rambling on about her dreams from the night before and the random facts she’d learned about horses.

Tony and Pepper laughed, exchanging small, relaxed comments, but Harley’s mind was already on the competition. He didn’t want to admit it, but the nerves were starting to spiral again. The drive to the venue would be about an hour, and with each passing minute, it felt like time was ticking faster.

By 7:00 AM, the family was ready to go. Rhodey and Happy had arrived and were ready to accompany them to the competition. Harley had spent hours learning from both of them over the years. Rhodey with his steady encouragement and Happy with his ability to make people feel safe.

“Ready to show ‘em what you’ve got, kid?” Rhodey asked, pulling Harley into a quick side hug.

Harley smiled, but it was strained. “I don’t know. I feel like I might puke.”

Rhodey smiled comfortingly and ruffled his hair. “That’s just the nerves. They’ll go away once you’re in there with Cooper.”

-

The family piled into the car, Happy driving. The drive to the venue was filled with chatter, teasing, and a lot of laughter. It was good to have them there. Harley felt the anxiety rolling off of him a little with each joke, each snarky comment, each gentle squeeze from his mom’s hand, each reminder of the support surrounding him.

When they arrived at the venue, Harley’s stomach flipped again. The place was massive. The parking lot was lined with trucks and trailers, horses and riders milling about. The venue was set up like a mini village, there were stables along one side, a warm-up ring nearby, and a large arena in the center with stands filled with spectators. The smell of hay, horses, and leather filled the air, and everything felt so big and scary.

“Okay, buddy,” Tony said, clapping Harley on the shoulder. “Remember, just focus on Cooper and everything you’ve practiced.”

Harley nodded, though his heart was still pounding. His hands were sweaty as he led Cooper toward their assigned stable, and the familiar sight of his horse helped settle his nerves.

Cooper was calm, his speckled coat gleaming in the soft morning light. Harley’s heart lifted slightly as Cooper moved his lips forward, greeting him like he always did before a ride.

Quickly, he changed into his competition uniform and went back out to where his family was.

Pepper, Tony, Morgan and the uncles stayed near the stables while Harley took care of Cooper, brushing him down and preparing him for the competition. The familiar motions helped calm him. Rhodey came over to give him a few last-minute tips.

“You’ve got this,” Rhodey said, his voice firm but kind. “You’ve done the work. Now it’s just about putting it all together.”

Harley took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’ve got this.”

Happy walked up with a small smile. “You know, the announcer’s gonna call you ‘Harley Stark and Cooper the Apaloosa’ when you go out there. Doesn’t that sound like a winning combination?”

Harley chuckled, feeling a little lighter. “I guess it does.”

As they finished getting Cooper ready, Lillian, his coach, approached, walking up to Harley with a confident smile. She had been with him for years, always patient, but firm when necessary.

“Hey, Harley,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned his posture. “Looking good out there. Just remember to breathe and stay in sync with Cooper. He’s a good horse, but you’ve got to ride him with confidence. He’s feeling your nerves, so you have to show him that you believe in him, too.”

Harley looked up at her, feeling a sense of relief at her steady, calming presence. “Thanks, Lillian. I know we can do it. Just... it’s a lot of pressure.”

Lillian placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I know. But pressure is where you find greatness. Don’t let it weigh you down. Ride with your heart, not your head. Trust your instincts. And above all, enjoy the ride.”

The warmth of her words stayed with him as she patted his back. “I’ll be cheering you on, Harley. Go show them what you’re made of.”

He went along the side of the arena, heading to where all the other competitors were lining up.

-

The sound of the announcer’s voice filled the air again. “Next up, we have Harley Stark and his horse Cooper the Apaloosa, coming from nearby! Malibu, California. A young rider, I see, twelve years old! Best of luck, Harley!”

The words sent a chill down his spine. Hearing his name, hearing it over the loudspeakers — that was real. This was happening. Right now.
His turn was about to start.

The arena was filled with horses, riders, and spectators. As Harley entered the arena, his nerves hit him again. But then he glanced at Cooper, the calming presence of his horse grounding him. With a deep breath, he urged Cooper forward.

The announcer’s voice filled the air again. “Here we go, folks! Harley Stark and Cooper as they take on this challenging course. First jump... clean and easy! And now toward the second — this one’s tricky, requiring a sharp turn. Let’s see how they do.”

Harley’s heart raced in time with Cooper’s hoofbeats. The jumps loomed ahead of them — tall, imposing. But with each one, Harley felt more and more connected to Cooper, their partnership clear and strong.

As they approached the water jump, the announcer’s voice added excitement to the moment: “And here comes the water jump- this one’s tricky for many, but Harley and Cooper are looking confident as they clear it effortlessly!”

The audience cheered, and Harley’s confidence soared. He and Cooper were in perfect sync. They made it over the final set of jumps, and the last high fence loomed ahead. Harley urged Cooper forward, and with a final surge, they cleared it.

“Great!” the announcer called. “Harley Stark and Cooper, finishing strong with a clean round!”

The crowd applauded, and Harley couldn’t help but smile. He had done it. They had done it. He had left everything on the course, and it had paid off.

-

It felt like a lifetime before the results were posted. Harley scanned the list, his hands shaking. His heart skipped when he saw it — second place. He had done it. He had placed second.

“Dacota Freeman, third place!” He listened intently as the top 3 winners were announced, He turned his exited gaze to his family, wanting to see their reactions.

“Harley Stark, second place in today’s competition!” the announcer’s voice rang out. “A fantastic performance from a rider with a bright future ahead!”

“Cody Kelp, first place! Congratulations! He will be going places, I can tell!”

As he walked back to his family, he overheard a couple of competitors talking nearby. One of them, a young rider with a sleek, high-priced warmblood, was commenting, “I thought it was kind of strange. I mean, Stark riding an Appaloosa? I figured he’d have one of those fancy purebreds.”

The other rider laughed. “I heard his family’s worth billions, but still, the Appaloosa? I guess it’s pretty cool he’s not all about showing off money. Or that he doesn’t need anything special to beat people like us.”

Harley couldn’t help but smile to himself. There were always going to be people who judged, but he was proud of his choice. Cooper wasn’t just a horse- he was family. And that was enough. He had Cooper during the worst parts of his life. Cooper was his best friend.

He and Cooper walked over to the family. “Oh my gosh Harley! Congratulations! We’re so proud of you!” His mother exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him in a huge hug.
His dad put a hand on his shoulder. “Great job buddy, we knew you could do it.” Tony said with a proud smile.

Harley smiled widely. “Thanks guys. I couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

Happy just smiled at him proudly. There was something else in his eyes that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Rhodey wrapped his arm around Harley in a side hug. “Congratulations, kid.” He grinned.

Morgan looked confused but loved the energy. “Did he win?” the little girl asked.

Tony looked at her fondly. “Yeah, Morgs, he did.”

-

Later, they celebrated with frozen yogurt at a nearby shop where Morgan insisted on topping her dessert with enough sprinkles to bury it completely. They laughed and joked, enjoying the sweetness of the moment, and the happiness that only family could bring.

As they sat together, Harley felt something shift inside him. He had placed second, but that didn’t matter as much as the people around him — his family, his horse, and the joy of just being together. And as he looked around at them, he realized something; today, he wasn’t just competing for a ribbon. He was competing for the love and support that had gotten him here.

And even though he missed Noah, today was a victory they could all share.

Chapter Text

April 26th 2009

The house was silent except for the sound of the ticking clock on the wall.

Peter sat on the couch, something he could only do when he was home alone like this. His eyes were reading down the long list of chores his parents had left him.

Richard and Mary Parker had gone out of town, leaving him behind with instructions to keep the house in order. Peter had no idea where they had gone, but it didn’t matter. They always left him behind- always.

-Wash the dishes -Sweep and mop the floors -Take out the trash and clean out the inside of the trashcan -Clean the Toilets -Wipe Mirrors and Windows with Windex -Lysol the counters -Pull weeds from the front flower beds -Plant and maintain the garden

It seemed endless, but Peter had gotten used to it. He knew what would happen if he didn’t follow the rules- yelling, hurt. It wasn’t the first time they had left him alone. It wasn’t even the tenth.

He looked down at the list and sighed. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to be a normal kid- one who didn’t have to hide in his room to avoid his parents getting bad at his very existence, one who didn’t always feel the tightness in his chest when he heard them fighting.

But there was no one else. It had always just been the three of them ever since his last family. They were so happy together with his last family. He thought they loved him. But clearly, he was wrong.

Now it was only him. Alone. The thought weighed heavily on him as he stood and began to gather the dirty dishes. The task, while boring and easy, kept his mind from wandering too far. Peter hated thinking about things he couldn't control. The things he couldn’t have anymore.

He startled as he heard a knock at the door.

He froze, his heart skipping a beat. The knocking continued, louder this time.

“Hello?” a voice called from the other side. “Peter Parker?”

Peter hesitated. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and he wasn’t sure who would even come looking for him. The people on the other side of the door sounded serious, official.
Slowly, he walked toward the door, and with a trembling hand, he turned the knob.

Standing on the porch were two police officers. One was tall and broad-shouldered, his face soft right now, but he could tell that if he wanted to, he could look threatening and scary. The other, a woman, had a kind expression, though her eyes were filled with concern.

“Hey buddy, is you’re name Peter?” The woman asked.

“Y-yes Ma’am.” He said shyly, hiding most of his body behind the door, only half of his face poking out to watch them.

“Peter, we need to talk to you,” the man said gently. “Did your parents leave for the airport this morning?”

Peter’s heart thudded in his chest. “Yes sir. they’re not here,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

The woman’s face softened even more, and she stepped forward. “Peter... there’s been an accident. Your parents were killed when their plane headed to London crashed this morning.”

Peter’s stomach churned as the world around him began to blur. The space felt too small. His breath came out in short, panicked gasps.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No no no no. They’re okay, they’ll be back in a few days!”

The woman took another step forward and knelt down to his level.

“We’re so sorry, kid. There were no survivors.”

Peter’s hands trembled. The list of chores, the endless routine- the grades- they didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered in that moment was the painful, suffocating silence that filled the room. His parents were gone.

A part of Peter wanted to scream, to run and find them, to tell them they couldn’t leave like this. But he couldn’t. They were gone. Just like that. And now he was truly alone.

Tears blurred his vision as he sat with his legs crisscrossed, his hands twisting in his lap. The floor was cold beneath him. The police officers exchanged looks, unsure of how to comfort the young boy in front of them. The woman placed a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder. She pulled back quickly when he flinched at the unexpected physical contact. They both looked at the boy in concern.

“We’re going to get you some help, Peter,” she said softly. “Who’s taking care of you?” she asked.

Peter looked up from his lap. “I’m here by myself Ma’am.”

The officers glanced at each other with concern.

“You don’t have a babysitter?” The man asked, voice still gentle.

“What’s a babysitter?” Peter asked, head tilted.

The officers exchanged another look, concern growing. The man replied, “Someone who takes care of you when your parents are busy.”

Peter looked up at her, his eyes wide and filled with fear. “I don’t have anyone. They’re all I had.”

The officer nodded sadly, her expression hardening with the weight of what she knew. “You do now, kid. We’re going to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

The man spoke up again. “We’re calling your Aunt May and Uncle Ben. They’ll be here soon. You’re not alone.”

Peter barely registered the words. His mind was a whirl of confusion and sadness. His parents were gone. And now, he would have to go live with people he barely knew.
This whole situation didn’t feel real.

When the officers left, they promised to keep an eye on him, but that did little to comfort him. That left Peter alone in the quiet house again. He had no idea what would happen next, but he knew one thing: everything had changed. He was alone, and the world felt colder now.

-

The ringing phone echoed through the quiet house, its sharp tone a contrast to the warm, calm evening they’d been having so far.

Ben glanced at the clock hanging above the kitchen doorway. It was just after six, the dinner table set, but there was no food yet. May had been bustling around the kitchen, preparing their usual evening meal, humming softly to herself, lost in the rhythm of cooking.

While everything else was cooking, she started making brownies from the box for dessert.

Ben had his back to her as he picked up the call, his expression unreadable. His hand tightened around the phone, instinctively bracing himself for bad news, seeing as the caller ID was the New York Police Department.

May paused mid-mixing, sensing the shift in his energy. She walked quietly to his side, her gaze fixed on his face as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone.
“Hello? Ben Parker speaking.”

“Mr. Parker, I’m so sorry to be calling you under these circumstances.” The voice on the other end was heavy with an urgency Ben didn’t quite recognize. It was a woman, but her tone was filled with something darker. Concern, fear? A hint of sadness, perhaps?

“What happened?” Ben asked, trying to steady his breathing.

“This is Officer Ramirez. I’m afraid there’s been an accident involving your brother, Richard Parker, and his wife, Mary. A plane crash. They didn’t survive.”

Ben’s stomach twisted at the mention of Richard and Mary. His mind struggled to process the words- a plane crash? They were dead? His thoughts raced, but he forced himself to listen.

“Where’s Peter?” Ben’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, his chest tightening with a new wave of dread. He had only met the boy a few times, but he knew that it was just the 3 of them. His brother, Mary, and little Peter.

“We’re with him right now,” Officer Ramirez continued, her voice softening. “We’ve been trying to reach you, but we were concerned about his welfare. He was alone at the house when we arrived.”

Ben's heart sank further into his stomach. Alone? "What do you mean, his welfare?" he asked, his words sharper now, as he glanced over at May, whose worried expression mirrored his own.

“Mr. Parker,” Officer Ramirez continued, “we have found that there are signs of neglect, and possibly abuse. The situation isn’t good. We think he’s been living this way for a while.”

A sickening silence filled the air between them. Ben’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone harder. “What’s happening to him now? Where is he?”

“We’ve contacted Child Services, but we wanted to get him out of there first, and we thought he might be more comfortable with family. We can bring him to you. But I want to be clear, Mr. Parker. He’s been through a lot. Be prepared.”

Ben blinked, taking in the weight of her words. He exhaled a shaky breath and nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “We’ll be there soon. Thank you, Officer.”

He hung up and turned to May, who was watching him closely.

“Ben, what’s going on? Is Peter okay?” Her voice was soft but filled with worry.

He swallowed hard. “No, May. Not really. Richard and Mary are dead. Plane crash. And Peter is-“ He cut himself off, trying to find words. “The officers are worried about him. They said there are signs of neglect. Possible abuse.”

May’s face went pale, her hand instinctively reaching out to his. “Oh, Ben… poor Peter. The Poor kid must be so scared.”

Ben nodded, a lump in his throat. “We need to get to him. He’s all alone, May.”

May grabbed her purse and ben they keys. They were out the door as quickly as they could.

-

The drive to the station felt endless. The streets of Queens were bathed in a dull, orange glow from the streetlights, but the city, usually so full of life and noise, seemed quieter than it usually was.

Ben’s knuckles were white with how tightly he gripped the steering wheel. His mind was spinning. May sat beside him in the passenger seat, her thoughts equally frantic, but she kept her voice calm, trying to comfort him.

“We’ll do our best for him, Ben. We can’t fix everything overnight, but we’ll be there.”

Ben nodded, his eyes on the road, though his mind was all over the place, but mainly on Peter, and on the unknowns.

What was Peter going through right now? Was he crying? Was he hungry? Had he been told yet? How would the kid react when he saw them? He and Richard hardly ever spoke to each other. Though, not for lack of trying.

Ben was always trying to get his brother and his siter-in-law to do things with them, spend time together, but Richard was always cold, and never accepted any of his invitations.
They had drifted apart, their relationship strained by time and the distance that comes with age and bitterness. But Peter? He was just a child.

When they arrived at the station, the fluorescent lights overhead flickered, and the hum of voices in the hallway sounded muffled. Officer Ramirez met them at the door. She offered them a small smile but didn’t say much as she led them down the hallway.

“He’s been through a lot.” she said quietly as they walked. “He hasn’t spoken much. Just... keep that in mind.”

Ben felt his chest tighten with every step, but May stayed beside him, her presence a constant reassurance. They reached a small room at the back of the building, and there, sitting on a bench by the wall, was Peter.

He looked smaller than Ben remembered. The boy’s hands were clasped together tightly in his lap, his posture hunched, as if he were trying to shrink himself.

The poor kid’s face was pale, his hair messy, and his eyes were fixed on the floor. He didn’t even look up when they entered.

“Peter?” May called softly.

Peter flinched at the sound of her voice, his shoulders jerking as if she had startled him.

His wide eyes darted toward her for a split second, then quickly flicked to the side, as if he were searching for an escape. When he saw Ben, his body stiffened even more, his breathing shallow and quick.

“Peter,” May repeated, kneeling in front of him, “I’m May, and this is your Uncle Ben. We’re here to take you home, okay?”

Peter didn’t answer. He didn’t move. He just stared at them with wary eyes. The silence in the room felt suffocating, and Ben’s heart broke with every second of it.

“Peter, it’s okay buddy. You’re safe now.” May’s voice was gentle, soothing, but Peter only trembled. There was a flicker of fear in his eyes as he shifted his weight, his body language stiff as if he just wanted to run away and never stop.

May hesitated before she reached out slowly, her arms open in a gesture that was meant to be comforting, but she knew Peter might not be able to understand.

She wanted so badly to pull him into her arms, to wrap him in the warmth of safety, but she wasn’t sure how he would react to that if she did.

For a moment, Peter didn’t move. Then, just as May was beginning to worry that he would push her away, he slowly, hesitantly leaned into her arms. She closed them around him gently, holding him as if he might break into pieces.

Peter didn’t make a sound at first. He remained clenched up in her arms, his small body tense with uncertainty. May’s heart cracked at the way he resisted her touch. She could tell how foreign it was to him, how wrong it must have felt to be held in someone’s arms who actually seemed to care about him.

“It’s okay, baby,” she whispered again, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re safe. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Peter’s breathing steadied, and his small body relaxing, just a little. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pull away either. May could feel the trust, fragile and cautious, beginning to form.

-

The drive back to their house was quiet. Peter sat in the back seat, his gaze fixed out the window, his hands nervously fidgeting in his lap.

Ben glanced at him through the rearview mirror. His expression was unreadable, lost in his own thoughts. May sat beside him, her eyes constantly flicking back to Peter in the mirror.

They didn’t speak much on the way home. Ben and May knew that silence was better than trying to force conversation right now. Peter needed time to adjust, to process everything that had happened.

It would be a long road ahead, but they would walk it with him.

When they arrived home, Peter hesitated as they pulled into the driveway. He looked at the apartment building uncertainly, his fingers curling. May opened the car door first, and Peter slowly followed her out, keeping a safe distance.

Ben kept an eye on him as they walked inside, though Peter didn’t seem to notice. He was still lost in his own head.

Inside, May led Peter to the kitchen, where she’d set the table. She motioned for him to sit down. “Peter, we’re having dinner. Would you like some?” she asked, her voice gentle.
Peter sat down at the table, but he barely touched the food. He poked at his plate with his fork, pushing the mashed potatoes around absentmindedly. It was clear that he wasn’t hungry, or maybe he was just too nervous to eat. His gaze was unfocused, his thoughts far away.

Ben and May exchanged a glance, but neither of them pushed him to speak. They simply ate their own meals quietly, watching Peter carefully, trying not to overwhelm him.

-

After dinner, they helped Peter upstairs to bed, tucking him in gently. He didn’t say a word as May adjusted the blankets around him, and Ben gave him a soft smile before they left the room.

Downstairs, in the living room, the weight of the day seemed to settle between them. Ben and May sat together, their minds reeling from everything that had happened.

“Ben,” May’s soft words broke the silence. “Did you see how he flinched when I touched him? How he was scared to get close to us?”

Ben nodded, his hand on the back of the couch, thinking. “I don’t think he understands what love is, May. He’s never had it, not the way we understand it.”

May sighed sadly. “I know. And it breaks my heart. We’re just going to have to teach him what it means, every single day, that it’s okay to trust us. It’s going to take time, but we can’t give up on him. He’s just a kid, and he deserves to know what a real family and love looks like.”

Ben swallowed hard, fighting the lump in his throat. “I just hope he lets us in.”

May leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice steady but full of emotion. “He will. Eventually. It’s just going to take time, patience, and love. Lots of it.”

-

Spring turned into summer, which stretched on in a way that felt both slow and fast.

Time had a strange way of shifting when you weren’t sure whether you were moving forward or standing still. For Ben, the summer was both a lifeline and a burden.

It was a season of change, of uncertainty, but also a chance to help Peter find some sense of normalcy, some joy after everything that had happened in his short life.

The early mornings in the Parker house had become a routine of sorts- one that was still new to both Ben and Peter.

May had always been the nurturing force in their family, the one who created warmth and familiarity. But Ben, though he was a loving and patient man, had never really been the “fun” one. That had been Richard’s role. Well, he thought it was.

Now, though, he was stepping into shoes that felt too big. He had to figure out how to make up for the lost time, for the absence of both Peter’s parents and the normal childhood Peter had never really gotten to have.

Ben wasn’t entirely sure where to start, but he did know one thing; Peter was really smart. Too smart for his own good. He had a sharp mind, always observing, always thinking, even if he never really said much out loud.

From what the 9-year-old had said though, he was a little genius.

Peter had started speaking more and more in the months since they brought him home.

He wasn’t as withdrawn, though there were still times when he retreated back into that shell, especially when he was uncomfortable or afraid. But Ben had learned how to read those moments, how to give Peter space when he needed it and how to coax him out of his shell without pushing too hard.

One of the first things Ben did was take Peter on a road trip.

-

It was a Saturday morning when Ben decided they’d go for a drive. The weather was perfect; sunny with a slight breeze, the kind of day that felt like the world was offering something good. May was busy in the kitchen, preparing a simple lunch, and Peter was sitting at the kitchen table, his nose buried in a thick book on physics.

That was the only thing Peter had asked for since he had gotten there, so naturally, he got it.

Ben watched him for a few moments before walking over to the table, leaning against it with a smile.

"Hey, Pete," Ben said softly. "What do you think about going on a little trip today?"

Peter didn’t look up from his book, but his eyes flickered toward Ben. He had this way of looking at people- not directly, but just enough to make sure they weren’t a threat. Ben had gotten used to it, but it still made his heart ache a little.

"A trip?" Peter’s voice was hesitant, unsure.

Ben nodded. "Yep. Just you and me. Thought we could drive out to the lake, maybe check out a museum afterward?”

Peter closed his book slowly, his brow furrowing in thought.

Ben chuckled. "We can make it interesting. Rent a boat or just walk around. Your choice. We’ll bring lunch and have a picnic. And the museum is about natural history. Lots of fossils, dinosaur bones, stuff like that."

Peter’s eyes lit up at the mention of dinosaurs. Ben knew how to catch his attention, even if it was just a small spark.

"Okay," Peter said, his voice still cautious but with a little more excitement “Lemmie go get my shoes on, I’ll grab the blanket and do some research, while you make lunch?”
His voice raised a little at the end, feeling uncomfortable about asking Ben to do something.

Ben ignored it and grinned. "Deal."

-

The drive was quiet at first. Peter was staring out the window, his fingers tapping against his leg. Ben was used to the silence now. It wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, but there was still a certain distance between them. A distance that Ben didn’t know how to close.

They made their way through the city, the buildings growing smaller and further apart, until they were driving though the forest in upstate New York.

The air smelled of grass and earth. The sun hung high up in the sky, golden and warm.

Peter finally broke the silence after about an hour, and they talked about science and math far more advanced than what most 9-year-olds would understand.

-

They reached the lake by mid-afternoon, the water was shimmering under the sun.

Ben rented a small boat, and they spent a few hours rowing across the lake, talking about fish, dinosaurs, and science.

Peter slowly began to open up more, especially as they walked along the shore. He seemed to enjoy the time away from the house, away from everything that had been going on lately.

He asked more questions about the world, about how things worked. Ben did his best to keep up, even when the topics veered into areas that were far beyond his knowledge. They talked about physics, chemistry, and history, and Peter seemed to absorb it all like a sponge.

"How can you understand this stuff? It’s impressive." Ben asked, genuinely curious.

Peter shrugged. "I read a lot. I like learning new things. My parents used to... get mad when I did. They said I should focus on more important things like chores and getting perfect grades." He paused. "But I guess... I just kept reading anyway. I used to sneak into my dad’s office and read his old college textbooks whenever they left me home alone."
Peter looked up at Ben, eyes wide with fear as if he had just realized that he had revealed a huge secret that would get him into huge trouble.

Ben’s heart sank. He hadn’t realized that Peter’s thirst for knowledge had been used as punishment. "I don’t know why they felt that way, I’m so sorry buddy." Ben said softly, trying to hide the anger that flared up in his chest at the same time as trying to comfort his nephew. "You’re smart, Kiddo. You deserve to learn, or anything else that makes you happy."

Peter nodded, but his eyes were thoughtful, and Ben could tell he wasn’t ready to talk more about his parents.

-

The summer weeks passed in a blur of happy moments and new experiences. May and Ben had learned that their nephew had hardly left the house when he lived with his parents. There were so many things that he hadn’t tried yet.

They visited museums and aquariums, explored nearby parks, and sometimes even just drove with no destination in mind.

Sometimes, they would sit on the roof top of their apartment building, watching the city move.

Peter would ask him questions about space, time, and everything in between.

-

One afternoon, Ben took Peter to a museum near their apartment that had a new exhibit on ancient Egypt. It was a quiet, cloudy day, the perfect kind of weather for wandering through hallways lined with ancient artifacts. They spent hours there, with Peter asking question after question. Ben marveled at how much Peter absorbed facts about hieroglyphs, mummification, and the way the ancient Egyptians built the pyramids.

It wasn’t just the information Peter wanted to know; it was the history, the context, the big picture.

Ben smiled as Peter rattled off theories on how they might have constructed the pyramids, most of them far more advanced than anything Ben could come up with.

"You know," Ben said, laughing a little, "You might just be the next great archaeologist or historian."

Peter smiled shyly, then looked down at his feet. "Maybe. But I don’t know if I’d be good at it." His voice trailed off, the hesitation in his words clear.

Ben couldn’t let that pass. "Why wouldn’t you be good at it? You’re amazing, Peter. You’ve got a real gift for this."

Peter seemed to shrink at the compliment, his shoulders hunching slightly. "I don’t know... my parents always said I was wasting my time. They wanted me to do other things... things that didn’t matter to me." He paused and looked up at Ben, his eyes finally meeting his eyes. “I just really like learning new things. But they didn’t like that. It was confusing and hard to please them. They would get so mad if I didn’t get good grades, but also act like I’m a freak for being smart.”

Ben could feel his throat tighten. "You don’t have to worry about them anymore, Peter. You’re free to do whatever you want. And if you want to learn, then you should. You’re smart, there’s nothing wrong with that buddy. It’s a good thing."

Peter didn’t respond, but Ben saw the small smile that crossed his nephew’s lips. May was right. He just needed lots of love and support.

-

Ben stood in the kitchen doorway and watched as Peter took another bite of the pizza, his eyes following the boy with a mix of contentment and sadness.

He couldn’t help but feel a little proud though, seeing Peter enjoy something so simple, something he never would have gotten from his parents.

Ben knew the kid hadn’t had an easy life at all, and moments like this, seeing him try new things, made him both happy and heartbroken at the same time.

“Is it good?” Ben asked, trying to keep the conversation light, his voice warm.

Peter nodded enthusiastically, his face lighting up. “Yeah! It’s really yummy!” he said, taking another bite and chewing thoughtfully.

Ben smiled softly. Lately, Peter had been just so excited to try all of these new things. He was always up to go and do anything Ben suggested. He absorbed every new experience like a sponge.

Every little experience, every taste, every new thing he tried, every adventure they went on, it felt like a little rebellion against everything he’d been deprived of in his short life.

May came into the living room, a bowl of popcorn in her hands, her eyes sparkling with energy as she plopped down beside Ben, who had moved from the doorway to the couch. “So, how’s the pizza?” she asked, her voice filled with that bubbly enthusiasm that could light up any room.

Peter grinned; his eyes wide. “It’s so yummy, Aunt May!”

May beamed back at him, her protectiveness and love clearly visible in the way she looked at Peter. “Well, I’m so glad you like it!”

As they settled in to start their family movie, Peter casually mentioned something that made Ben’s chest tighten.

“Have you ever had pizza before?” Ben had asked.

“I don’t know, if I have, I don’t remember it.” Peter responded innocently, as if everything was perfectly normal. “My parents used to go out to eat all the time, I’d just stay home and make myself a sandwich or something. I haven’t gotten to try a lot of food; I mainly ate ramen and sandwiches or whatever leftovers were in the fridge from when my parents ate out. I did cook a lot whenever my parents had people over, but I never got to eat any of it.”

May’s smile faded for a second, her protective instincts kicking in as she looked at the boy who she was coming to see as a son. She leaned forward, her concern showing in her facial expressions.

“Peter, sweetheart, you should never have had to do that. No one should be left to eat alone like that. Especially someone as young as you. We will make sure that never happens again.” Her voice was strong, but her tone was soft, trying to reassure him.

Peter, still so innocent in his understanding, tilted his head in confusion as to why they both looked so concerned. It broke Ben’s heart.

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind. I was fine.” Peter replied.

Ben cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “You shouldn’t have had to be fine on your own, Peter. You should’ve had people who cared for you.”

Peter blinked, a little confused by the serious tone. “What do you mean? It was just... it was normal?” He said, but it came out more as a question.

Ben swallowed hard, forcing a smile, but it felt fake, and he imagined that it also looked that way too.

May’s gaze met his, and he could see the same pain in her eyes, the same protective anger rising up. She didn’t need to say anything; Ben knew that she was just as sad knowing Peter was being left alone like that.

May kept her voice soft as she reached out to gently touch Peter’s shoulder. “No, buddy. That wasn’t normal. But you’re with us now, okay? No more sandwiches and waiting alone. We’re your family, and we’ve got you. You’re never going to feel alone again, I promise.”

Peter’s eyes brightened at her words, a small, trusting smile spreading across his face. “Thanks, Aunt May. Thanks, Uncle Ben.”

Ben smiled back at him, though his heart still ached.

But now things are different. Ben and May were giving Peter something his parents never had; warmth, safety, and love.

Peter took another bite of his pizza, a smile spreading across his face. Ben glanced at May. She gave him a small, reassuring nod.

Ben couldn’t erase the past, but he would make sure Peter’s future was filled with moments like this, with new experiences, new joys, and the love of a family that would never let him feel alone again.

-

(Peter’s first Christmas with May and Ben)

December 25th, 2010

The small living room was cozy, the lights of the tiny tree flickering softly in the corner.

The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine, the scent of Christmas that was filled with warmth.

Outside, the wind howled, and the streets were covered in a light dusting of snow, but inside the apartment, the cold was kept at bay by the flickering light of the fireplace, the quiet hum of holiday music, and the sound of Peter’s giggling as May chased him around with soaking wet hands right after washing them, threatening to wipe them on him.

-

Peter sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a gift. He looked up at May and Ben, his eyes wide with wonder. This wasn’t like the Christmases he remembered from before he and his siblings had been taken, there were no expensive gifts or fancy dinners, but the love that filled the room made everything feel more special than he could have ever imagined.
Aunt May, her face bright with excitement, sat next to him. “Go ahead, Peter! Open it! We picked it out just for you.”

Peter hesitated, looking at the package in his hands. They watched him as he pulled the paper away. He hadn’t gotten any Christmas presents since before he left his biological parents.

When he saw the small Lego set inside. His eyes widened, and his mouth opened in surprise.

When he closed his mouth, his eyes filled with tears. May scooted over and hugged him to her side.

“This is for me?” Peter asked, looking at his aunt and uncle as though he didn’t quite believe it. “I-“ Peter choked on his words. “Thank you guys so much.”

May’s face softened as she nudged him gently. “It’s all yours, Peter. We wanted you to have something special this Christmas.”

Peter’s heart warmed with her words. He had spent so many Christmases alone, in that empty house, where his parents had never once thought of getting him anything. The gift itself was so special, but the fact that they got it for him because they knew he liked them made it feel personal, making it so much more important and special.

“I don’t know what to say…” he said quietly, clutching the box of Lego Star Wars in his hands. He had never actually seen any of the Star Wars movies, but then again, he had only seen 2 movies, and those were during movie nights with May and ben.

Ben smiled warmly from his spot on the couch. “You don’t need to say anything, kiddo. We’re just happy to see you smile.”

Peter blinked, feeling the warmth spread in his chest. He looked down at the box, a feeling rising up in him that he couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just the toy—it was the thought behind it. This was something he had never felt before. The love and care that Aunt May and Uncle Ben had poured into this moment, into making sure he had a Christmas he could remember, was more precious than anything he had imagined.

Before he could get too lost in his emotions, May clapped her hands. “Alright, Ben just went, so did Peter, so it’s my turn!”

Peter grinned sheepishly, quickly grabbing the small, hand-wrapped package he had hidden beside the tree. “Wait, I have something for you.” May smiled at him, as if that meant the world to her.

“You didn’t have to do that buddy.” May said, putting her hand on her chest.

“I-I don’t know if it’s as good as your present, but I made this for you.” Peter said, placing the box on May’s lap.

She gasped, unwrapping the gift carefully, her expression shifting from curiosity to genuine surprise. Inside was a hand-knitted bucket hat, nothing fancy, but something Peter had spent hours making with some yarn he found at the local store while he was out with Ben.

It wasn’t perfect, the stitches were uneven in a few places, but he made it to show her how grateful he is that she took him in and showed him what love looked like.

“Oh, Peter,” Aunt May said, her voice soft with emotion. She placed the hat on top over her hair, her eyes sparkling. “This is the best gift I could have ever asked for. You made this for me?”

Peter’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he nodded. “I-I didn’t have much, but I thought maybe you’d like it.”

Ben’s throat tightened as he watched the exchange. The warmth, the sincerity, the love that radiated from both May and Peter in that moment was more than Ben could have asked for.

They had next to nothing, but what they did have, they gave to each other. Oh- and love- don’t forget love.

“Thank you, Peter,” May said, her voice thick with emotion as she hugged him tightly. “I’ll wear this all winter long.”

Peter, still shy but filled with unfamiliar warmth, hugged her back, feeling something stir in his chest. He had never experienced Christmas like this, where the gifts weren’t about how much money was spent, but about the thought, the care, the love behind them. If he got any presents at all.

Ben cleared his throat and stood slowly, walking over to the tree. He knew he didn’t have much to give, but there was one last gift tucked away beneath the tree. It wasn’t anything fancy. It wasn’t expensive. But it was something he knew Peter would appreciate.

“Peter,” Ben said gently, “I’ve got something for you, too.”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise. He had already received more than he ever thought possible. “You do?”

Ben nodded, his heart swelling with excitement. “I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”

Peter looked at the small package in Ben’s hands. The wrapping was simple, much like the others. But the smile on Ben’s face made it feel so special.

As he unwrapped it, He found a small, second-hand book. It was a story about a teenage boy from the American Civil war who was brave and kind, someone Peter could look up to. “I know you mentioned wanting to read this,” Ben said softly, “so I thought you might like it.”

Peter stared at the book in his hands, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. “I- thank you! I can’t believe it! I’ve been wanting this for so long- I didn’t think anyone would remember.”

Ben smiled; his voice was thick with emotion. “Of course we remember, Peter. We love you buddy. And we’re so proud of you.”

May, who had been watching quietly from the couch, nodded. “You’re part of this family now, Peter. And family looks out for each other.”

Peter’s eyes shimmered with emotion, and he pulled out a second box. “I don’t know if you’re going to like this, but I have something for you too.” At that, Ben raised an eyebrow.
He handed Ben a box, the same size as May’s was. Ben opened it to find a pair of knitted black, brown and blue gloves. He looked up at his nephew.

Peter’s gaze darted between the floor and Ben, and back again, avoiding eye contact and keeping his head down.

“Thank you,” he half-whispered, his voice barely audible as he tried them on. They fit his large hands well. Ben’s heart was so full it felt like it might burst. “I don’t know what to say buddy… These are incredible!” Ben smiled at the boy with warmth and pulled him into a hug.

When he pulled away, peter looked at him and smiled a little. “I though you might like them for when you’re at work, see the rubber on the tips of the fingers? You can use your phone with them on.”

Ben’s voice was warm, steady. “You’re a good kid, Peter. We’re so happy you’re with us.”

Peter smile grew. “Thanks for taking me in. And for teaching me what a real family looks like. How if feels to be loved.”

May pulled the two into a group hug. “How did I get so lucky?” she asked.

-

As the day flew by, the family huddled together by the tree, a dinner shared, laughter filling the air, and the quiet joy of knowing that no matter how little they had, they had each other.

For Peter, this Christmas, his first real Christmas, showed him that it was love that made this day so special. That’s what made a home. And for the first time, he truly felt like he belonged.

Chapter Text

July 9th 2012

The first rays of morning light filtered through the yellow floral curtains that hung on the walls of the small living room, casting a soft, golden glow over everything.

The colorful rug beneath Peter's feet was worn and familiar, a constant in a life that had over the years, become more stable than six year old him would have ever thought possible.

On the coffee table in front of him was a letter. It was official, important, and actually pretty life changing.

He really couldn’t seem to focus on much else. His fingers hovered over the envelope, the seal was still unbroken, the words on the outside already enough to make his heart race.

This was it.

This was what he had been waiting for, working for, believing in for so long. The application for Midtown School of Science and Technology. A full-ride scholarship!

He took a deep breath, the weight of everything crashing over him. He hadn’t expected this. After everything- his past, the uncertainty, grief, this just felt like such an impossible dream to come true. But now, as the sun began to rise and he continued to fidget, it seemed like it could maybe be just within reach.

He could do this! He could finally leave behind everything that had weighed him down, start fresh, and carve out a future of his own. One that he wanted, not the one that Mary and Richard Parker wanted.

Ben sat beside him on the couch, his presence was comforting. His uncle’s large hand rested on the back of Peter’s chair, gentle but solid, reminding Peter that no matter what happened next, Ben would be there.

He had been the most important and supportive person in his life.

Peter had come to trust him over the years. And it wasn’t just trust, he thought of Ben as his safe place. Same with May. Ben would always be there for him.

Peter had never known what it was like to have that before, but now, he couldn’t imagine life without it.

“Are you gonna open it, or just stare at it all day?” Ben asked, his voice calm but with a hint of playful impatience. He had that one smile on his face. That one that always made peter feel all warm inside. It was proud and loving, at the same time as being playful and kind.

Peter glanced up at him, and then looked down at the envelope again. “I’m... I’m just super nervous,” he admitted quietly. “What if I didn’t make it? What if it’s a rejection letter?”

Ben chuckled softly, his voice warm and reassuring. “Peter, I’ve seen you work. You’re ready for this. You’ve been more than ready. Now open it already.”

Peter took a deep breath, his hands shaking a little as he carefully tore open the seal. The letter slid out of the envelope. The scholarship application had been difficult. He’d worked harder on that than anything else in his life.

Now it was all down to this one silly piece of paper. He unfolded it carefully, his eyes scanning the words quickly, but stopping on the line that made his breath catch.

‘Congratulations, Peter Parker. We are pleased to inform you that you have been awarded a full scholarship to the Midtown School of Science and Technology for the upcoming academic year.’

Peter’s vision blurred slightly as his mind caught up with the words. His heartbeat thudded in his chest, echoing in his ears. This was real. It wasn’t some dream. This was his future.

“Ben!” Peter’s voice raised slightly as he looked up, meeting his uncle’s eyes. “I… I actually got in. I really did it!”

Ben’s expression softened immediately, pride shining through his calm demeanor. He leaned forward and gave him a huge hug. “I knew you would, kiddo. I knew it.”

Peter’s breath came in and out quickly, he had so many emotions going through him right now. Fear, happiness, pride, but most of all, excitement.

He’d been through so much, had been let down by so many people, but this moment, this letter, meant everything. He had a chance now. A real chance. This was the first step to finally doing what he had always dreamed of.

“You deserve it, kiddo. You’ve worked so hard for this. All those late nights, all that studying, all that effort, it’s all paid off.” Ben said with a proud smile.

“I can’t believe it!” Peter yelped. His shock wearing off, replaced by the excitement. He jumped and did a little happy dance, his fingers gripping the letter tightly, as if he were afraid it might slip away from him. “This is everything I’ve wanted! Everything I’ve worked for.”

Ben nodded, but there was a softness in his expression now. “I know it feels like everything, but it’s just the beginning. What you do with this opportunity, how you use it, that’s the next chapter. I don’t want you to feel like you have to live up to some image of success, Peter. I want you to be happy. That’s what matters most.”

Peter stopped jumping around, a little taken aback by the man’s words. “But you’ve always told me to work hard, to aim high-”

“I have,” Ben agreed, giving him a small smile. “But I’ve also told you that I’m not trying to make you into someone who you don’t want to be. I’m not trying to make you into me or anyone else. I just want you to find something that makes you feel like you’re living your life the way you want to. No pressure, no expectations. Just you bud, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

Peter looked down at the letter again, his hands now relaxed against the paper. He understood what Ben was saying. It wasn’t about following in someone else’s footsteps. It wasn’t about checking off the boxes of ‘success’ or being the best at something. It was about living a life he could be proud of, about doing what made him happy.

Peter had always been good at science. Ever since he could remember, he’d been fascinated by the way things worked, the mechanics of the world, the logic behind it all. That had been his escape for so long, even when life at home was a nightmare.

Science was something he could control. It was something that made sense when nothing else did.

The one thing he could control, the one thing that nobody could take away from him. Knowledge.

But now, as he looked at Ben and thought about his future, Peter realized that there was more to it than just being good at something. He had to make it his own. He didn’t want to just follow a path because it was expected of him, he wanted to choose his path for himself. And he felt like now, he had the freedom to do that.

Before Peter could voice any of this, a knock at the door interrupted the moment. It was a familiar knock, the one that meant May was on the other side of the door. “Is my boy awake yet, or do I need to send in the dogs to drag him out of bed?” She said, her tone playful.

Ben stood and opened the door, smiling as May stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, a mischievous grin on her face.

Peter looked at her with a wide smile. “May, we don’t even have dogs.”

She smiled, “Ah, yes. How could I forget?”

When she saw the letter in Peter’s hands, her expression softened instantly, and she stepped into the room without missing a beat.

“Well? What’s the verdict?” May asked, her voice laced with anticipation.

Peter stood up, still holding the letter, his eyes widened again with disbelief. “I-I got in. I got the scholarship.”

May’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, her mouth falling open with excitement. Without a second’s hesitation, she rushed over to Peter, dragging him into a tight hug. “I knew it! I knew you could do it, Peter! You’ve been working so hard for this and look at you now!” She smiled widely.

Peter laughed softly, hugging her back. The tightness in his chest was still there, but now it was filled with a warmth that spread outward, right down to his fingertips. These were the moments that reminded him of why he was still fighting, why he had pushed himself through all the hardships; because there were people who truly cared. People who believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself.

May pulled away just a little, so that she could look him in the eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Pete. I always knew you’d make it! You’re too smart not to! You’ve got so much potential buddy.” She paused, then did another little exited squeal, hugging him again.

Ben joined in, making it a group hug. His expression was soft as he spoke. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, kid. But we’ll be with you every step of the way. You just focus on doing what makes you happy. That’s all we want for you.”

Peter felt a lump form in his throat as the weight of their words hit him. “Thank you guys.” he whispered. “I never thought- I never thought I’d have a chance at this. At a life like this. I never would have been able to get this without you guys. Thank you.”

“You’ve always had that chance, Peter,” Ben said, his voice was now thick with emotion. “You just needed to believe it. You’re part of this family. And we’re gonna make sure your supported, no matter where life takes you.”

Peter swallowed hard, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. He had never known a love like this before. He had never felt truly supported. Not by his parents, not by anyone. But now, here he was, with Ben and May. He knew that he wasn’t alone anymore. He was part of something. And that was worth more than anything.

“I’m going to make it count,” Peter said quietly, his voice steady now. He smiled up at his aunt and uncle, his heart felt light. “I promise.”

Ben’s face softened, his pride in Peter was clear. “I know you will, buddy.”

May wrapped her arms around Peter once more, holding him close. “We’re always here for you, kiddo. Always.”

The weight of everything settled on Peter’s chest, but it was a good weight. It wasn’t a burden, it was love. It was the knowledge that whatever happened next, whatever the future held for him, he had a family who would never stop believing in him.

Peter took a deep breath, the reality of the moment sinking in. He was ready. He was ready for whatever came next.

(Editor’s note: Heh heh, no ur not..)

-

August 20th, 2012

Peter wasn’t sure what he had expected from Mid-Town, but it certainly wasn’t the overwhelming mix of excitement and anxiety that greeted him on his first day. The halls were filled with students who seemed smarter, more confident, and a lot more plugged into the world of science and tech than Peter felt. He was still trying to find his footing, navigating his way through a maze of new subjects, new faces, and new experiences.

Then he met Ned.

It was in robotics club, a few days into the school year. Peter had been sitting at the back of the classroom, head buried in a textbook about circuits, trying to focus on something-anything- that would distract him from the overwhelming feeling of being out of place.

"Hey, man!" came a voice from beside him.

Peter looked up, startled, to find a kid about his age, with dark skin and messy black hair, grinning at him like they were already friends. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Peter found himself smiling despite himself.

"I’m Ned," the kid said, sitting down next to Peter. "You seem like your into electronics and stuff. You like Star Wars?"

Peter blinked, unsure whether he had heard correctly. "Star Wars?"

"Yeah! Star Wars! You know, like the best movies ever made? You ever watch 'em?"

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Star Wars? Of course I’ve watched it! Who doesn’t love Star Wars?"

Ned grinned even wider. "I knew it! You’re my kind of guy. I’ve got like, all the movies at home, plus a bunch of Star Wars Lego sets. We should totally hang out sometime. We can watch the movies, build some Legos, and maybe even talk about superheroes. You into that too?"

Peter felt an unexpected warmth spreading through him. It had been a while since someone had approached him so eagerly, without any reservations or judgment. This kid, Ned, was just… real.

"I’m into superheroes," Peter replied, feeling a bit more at ease. The words made him drift into thought though. Peter wasn’t dumb. He knew who his dad was, who Ironman was, and he could help but feel bitter. Shaking off those thoughts, he continued, "But I haven’t built Legos in forever. I love em’ though, I just don’t get them often."

Ned’s eyes practically sparkled. "Perfect! You can’t be a true nerd without having built at least one Lego set, right? You gotta come over. We can geek out, talk about the best Star Wars scenes, build the Millennium Falcon, and I’ll show you my superhero Lego sets. It’s gonna be awesome!"

Peter couldn’t stop smiling. It sounded too good to pass up. Plus, he was just excited to make a friend. "Okay, yeah, I’m in."

-

April 17th, 2013

It was after school, a few months after Peter met Ned, and now he found himself walking to his best friend's house, feeling excitement building in his chest. They had decided on building the Lego Deathstar tonight.

It wasn’t every day that you found someone who really shared your interests, who wasn’t just tolerating your weirdness, but was actively enthusiastic about it.

When Peter arrived at Ned’s place, he was greeted by a modest home. It was a cozy, cluttered space, that just looked like it was lived in.

He walked into Ned’s room, which was covered in comic book posters on the walls and action figures scattered on shelves. It was clear that Ned's family didn’t have much in terms of wealth, but the room was filled with a sense of warmth and personality. Peter immediately felt welcome.

"You’ve got a lot of Star Wars stuff," Peter remarked as he stepped inside.

Ned shrugged, his face lighting up. "Yeah, it’s my thing. My mom got me into it when I was younger. She’s not much for the whole superhero thing, but she loves Star Wars, so I’ve kind of inherited that obsession."

"Cool," Peter replied. "My Uncle Ben introduced me to Star Wars, he watches it with me sometimes."

Ned nodded. "Yeah, my mom doesn’t totally get the Legos part, but she’s cool with it. As long as I help with the chores, I can buy all the Legos I want."

Peter chuckled, feeling the ease between them. "Sounds like a pretty good deal."

Ned led him to the living room, where a few large Star Wars Lego sets were already in progress. "I’m working on the Death Star right now," he said, gesturing to the pieces scattered across the coffee table. "But I’ve also got some superhero sets—Iron Man, Captain America, you name it. You into superhero Legos?"

Peter grinned, suddenly feeling more excited than he had in days. "I’m all about superhero Legos. I’ve got a ton of them back home. My Uncle Ben used to help me build them when I was younger. We’d spend hours just putting the pieces together."

"That’s awesome," Ned said, settling onto the couch and patting the space beside him. "Alright, first things first: we have to watch Star Wars together. You can’t build a Star Wars Lego set without watching the movies, right?"

Peter nodded, grinning. "Definitely. Let’s start with the original trilogy, though.” Ned scrolled through different movies before clicking onto A New Hope.

-

As the movie began, the two of them sat next to each other, working on their own bits of the Lego set. Peter had seen the movie dozens of times, but there was something even better about watching it with someone who was just as invested in the characters and the story as he was.

"I can’t believe people still try to argue that Han shot first," Ned muttered, shaking his head as they watched the famous scene in the Mos Eisley Cantina.

Peter chuckled a little at that.

As the movie played on, they continued building the Lego sets on the coffee table, hands pushing each piece together. The Millennium Falcon finally started to take shape, and the Death Star began to resemble the spherical battleground.

"So, who’s your favorite character?" Peter asked after a while, looking up from the set as he carefully added another piece.

Ned grinned, clearly already anticipating the question. "Easy. Han Solo. The guy’s just cool, y'know? He doesn’t take crap from anyone, and he’s got the best lines."

Peter thought for a moment before responding. "Han is great, but I think I gotta go with Obi-Wan. He’s calm, wise, and, like, super skilled with a lightsaber. I’ve always admired that about him."

"Okay, okay, I can respect that. Obi-Wan’s a classic," Ned agreed.

They both fell into a comfortable silence as they worked, only occasionally speaking to debate more Star Wars trivia, or to comment on the Lego set they were piecing together.
After a while, the Death Star was nearly complete, and it was starting to look impressive.

"Man, this looks amazing," Peter said, his voice filled with awe as he stared at the set.

"I know, right?" Ned replied, a sense of pride in his voice. "The best part is that it’s not even close to finished yet. We’ve still got like, three more hours of building to do."
Peter laughed. "That’s awesome! Do you want to watch Empire Strikes Back next?” Peter questioned.

Ned’s eyes lit up. "Oh man, yes. It’s definitely the best one of the trilogy. I’m already on board."

-

As the evening wore on, the pair continued to build, watch movies, and geek out over their shared love of Star Wars, superheroes, and Legos. Between debates on who was the best superhero and arguing over the finer details of the Star Wars universe, Peter felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time: a sense of belonging.

This wasn’t just a casual friendship. This was something real. Something genuine.

For the first time in a long time, Peter felt like he had found a place where he belonged, not because of what he did or didn’t have, but because of who he was and the shared love of the things that made him feel at home in the world.

Ned, with his easygoing nature and similar interests, had become a true friend, and Peter was grateful for the bond they were building over Legos, movies, and mutual respect.

They might be teenagers, but they were more than just the usual "cool" crowd. They were two geeks who had found the perfect, unspoken understanding in each other.

As the night came to an end, Peter couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to look up after all.

-
May 3rd, 2013

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon, and Peter had just finished reworking some circuits for fun and watching some movies with Ned. The two had spent hours geeking out over the latest comic book, and it was around dinnertime when Mrs. Leeds called them downstairs for food.

Peter was sprawled out on the couch, halfway through his dinner, when the news people’s voice caught his attention.

"Here we have some news from Malibu, California, where an attack occurred today at the beachfront residence of Tony Stark, the CEO of Stark Industries, and known philanthropist. Terrorists attempted to breach the security of Stark’s home, but thanks to quick action from the authorities and Stark’s advanced security system, the family made it out unharmed. The home is completely destroyed. Sources confirm that the family will be relocating to New York City, where they will stay at the Avengers Tower for the foreseeable future."

Peter’s stomach twisted, his fork clinking sharply against the edge of his bowl as he froze in place. His mind processed the words slowly, his heart starting to pound harder with each detail that sank in.

Tony Stark. His dad. The genius billionaire who had made his fortune in weapons technology, up until only a year ago. The man who was also Iron Man, who fought alongside the avengers in the battle of New York.

And there, in the background of the news report, was the picture that made Peter’s breath catch in his throat. It was a photo of his brother, Harley, and his little sister, Morgan, standing alongside Tony and Pepper, smiling as if they were the perfect family. The picture looked like a happy one, one that Peter hadn’t been a part of.

As the screen flickered, more images flashed by—the beautiful Malibu beach house he’d lived in until he was six, the expensive cars, the lavish lifestyle. And yet, none of that mattered to Peter in that moment. What cut deeper was the knowledge that his twin brother and sister were part of that world. How long had it been that way? Had it always?
Peter had been abandoned, and it was personal. His brother and sister got to have a happy life with their biological parents, while Peter had to go through so much trauma, that he was still recovering.

They made it out. They got to be safe, with the parents who loved them. But what about him? Where was his place in all of this?

He didn’t have one.

Peter gripped the armrest tightly, his knuckles turning white as his anger began to bubble to the surface. His eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears spill. Not now. He was so tired of feeling like this, like he didn’t matter.

Why hadn’t Tony and Pepper come for him too? Why had they left him behind, knowing that he was out there, all alone, stuck in a life he never chose? Richard and Mary had always told him that his parents didn’t want him, had given him away, but he had always tried to not believe them, but now? He had picture proof of it.

The news people’s voices droned on, describing the attack and how the Stark family had managed to escape, but Peter wasn’t listening anymore. All he could hear or feel was the dull feeling of resentment building inside of him.

“Peter? You okay?” Ned’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Peter snapped his head to the side, realizing he had been staring at the TV in a daze. He hadn’t even noticed Ned had been watching the same broadcast from the other side of the couch.

Peter blinked, his face blank as he took in Ned’s concerned expression. His friend had no idea how much the news had just hit him, how much it stung. To see his brother and sister so easily slip back into the arms of parents who hadn’t cared enough to save him, was like a gut punch he couldn’t recover from.

“I’m fine,” Peter said quickly, voice flat. It was a lie, but it came out automatically. He forced a smile, though it felt like a mask, hiding the raw hurt that was festering inside him. He didn’t want to get into it, not now. Not with Ned.

But Ned wasn’t buying it. “You don’t look fine, man. You look like you’re about to explode. What’s going on?”

Peter’s breath hitched. He should’ve known better than to lie to Ned. He could see right through him, could tell when something wasn’t right. But Peter wasn’t ready to talk about this. Not yet. Not when the emotions were so raw and jagged.

“I’m fine, really,” Peter repeated, standing up and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. He didn’t want to deal with this right now. “I think I’m just feeling a little sick. I’m gonna go home. I just… I need some space, alright?”

Ned stood up, looking unsure. “Are you sure dude? You don’t have to go. We can talk about whatever’s going on. I know it’s been a tough time for you, with school and everything. If you need to vent or anything, you can-”

“I’m good,” Peter cut him off, his voice tighter than he meant for it to be. He quickly turned toward the door, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. “I just… I need to be alone. I uh, need to fix my- yeah.” He stuttered, turning to leave.

Ned’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, clearly wanting to say something else, but Peter was already out the door, pulling his jacket tighter around him as he headed for home. He didn’t need to explain himself to anyone. Not now. Not when it felt like his feelings where going to swallow him whole.

-

Peter barely remembered the walk home. His feet seemed to carry him on autopilot, his mind clouded with frustration and confusion. The familiar neighborhood streets blurred past him, but all he could think about was the image of his dad standing tall with Harley and Morgan at his side, like they were his whole world. Like they mattered, and Peter didn’t.

Had Tony even known Peter was still out here all these years? Did they think he was dead? Had he and Pepper even tried to find him? Or was this all just some chapter of his life that was too inconvenient for them to care about? He had spent years being told that his real parents didn’t want him, that they were “better off” without him. The idea that they had let him go, that they had let him suffer through all of that pain and trauma while his twin and sister were safe, it was really hurtful.

By the time Peter reached the front door of his apartment, his eyes were burning again, his throat tight. He didn’t even bother to check if May or Ben were home. He just needed to get to his room. To hide. To keep on pretending that everything was fine.

-

It was a few hours after Peter had locked himself in his room. He was laying on his bed, trying to read some stupid book. The silence around him was so loud, he just wanted to try to drown it out with thoughts that weren’t about his parents. He gave up on the book, closing it and dropping it to lay next to him.

Staring up at the ceiling, he replayed the images he had seen on the news over and over again in his mind. He hated it. He hated how it made him feel- like he was some abandoned child no one had ever wanted to rescue. He hated how perfect little Tony Stark was out there with his perfect little family, living in that perfect shiny tower in New York, while Peter remained in the shadows of a life he never asked for.

Oh well, he supposed. At least nobody but him knew.

The emotions were a tangled mess inside him—anger, bitterness, sadness, jealousy. They were all swirling together, and no matter how hard he tried to push them down, they kept resurfacing.

There was a knock on his door.

Peter groaned, not wanting to deal with anyone. Not right now. Not when he was like this. But the door creaked open, and there stood Aunt May, her face soft with concern.
“Pete?” she asked gently. “You alright?”

Peter didn’t look up. “I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Aunt May said, walking in and sitting down on the edge of his bed, “I know you’re not fine. You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

He just nodded, though he didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say that would make it better. Nothing that could explain how much it hurt to know that his own family, the people who were supposed to love him, had they even tried to find him?

“I’m going to get you some dinner. How about you come down and eat with us?” May offered softly.

Peter turned his head, staring out the window into the darkening sky. “I’m not hungry.”

Aunt May was silent for a moment before she gave a soft sigh. “I know making friends is hard. But you don’t have to go through it alone, Pete. You’ve got us. You’ve always got us. You can talk to me or Ben about anything.”

Peter’s throat tightened, but he didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

He just wanted to forget about everything from his past. To push the stupid memories away.

But he knew he couldn’t.

-

The front door creaked open, and Peter stepped inside. The familiar scent of home immediately greeting him. The soft hum of the city drifted through the window, but it was the warmth of his apartment, his real home.

It had been a long day, his mind still weighed down by the storm of thoughts about his biological family. But now, as he stepped inside, all of that felt distant, like it was part of a world that no longer had a hold on him.

Before he could even close the door behind him, the warmth he craved was already there.

"Peter!" Aunt May’s arms were around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The way she held him was soft, yet strong, and familiar.

Peter hesitated for only a second before he wrapped his own arms around her, returning the hug. His chest loosened in a way it hadn’t all day, the frustration and anger melting away. "Hey, May." he mumbled into her shoulder.

"How was school today?" she asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him with a smile, her eyes full of love, as always.

Peter gave her a small grin. "Good, I guess. Boring. Just a regular day."

As she let go, Uncle Ben appeared from the kitchen, a warm smile on his face, his hand resting on Peter’s shoulder in a familiar, gentle pat. "Everything alright, kiddo?" he asked, in that one tone that always made Peter feel safe when life felt like it was spinning out of control.

Peter nodded, even though he still felt a bit of that heaviness inside him. "Yep, just tired I guess."

Ben raised an eyebrow but didn’t press him further. "Well, dinner’s almost ready. You can tell us all about it when you sit down."

Peter smiled and followed them to the kitchen table, the small apartment around him feeling cozy as always. The simple table in the corner, with its mismatched chairs and well-worn surface, felt more like home than anything he’d ever known.

May had set out dinner, which was a steaming pot of spaghetti with garlic bread and sweet peas on the side. The smell was amazing, going to show how much care and effort May always put into making their meals.

It was the only time they got to spend with each other. May worked at the hospital starting before Peter even woke up, and Ben worked as a police officer at night, usually leaving the house right after dinner.

They all settled down around the table, and it wasn’t long before the playful bickering began.

"No, Ben! That’s my slice, you’ve already had two!" May laughed, pushing his hand away as he tried to steal the last piece of garlic bread. "Honestly, sometimes I think you’re more of a child than Peter is!"

Ben chuckled, dodging her hand. "Hey, you don’t want to deprive a guy of his garlic bread, do ya? It’s the best part of the meal!"

But May won, taking the last piece of bread with a triumphant huff followed by an evil smile directed at Ben.

Peter leaned back in his chair; his heart felt lighter as he watched them. The way they teased each other, how May always laughed at Ben’s jokes, and the way Ben nudged her when she tried to act like the serious one. It was the kind of laughter that felt like a balm to his soul, the kind of warmth he had missed for so long. Their love for each other, and for him, was so obvious, and so real. It filled the room with a kind of peaceful joy.

As the conversation and playful bickering continued, Peter’s gaze wandered between the two of them, smiling. The weight in his chest seemed to ease, and he felt an undeniable sense of gratitude that he couldn’t fully explain. This was his family. They weren’t perfect, but they were his. And more importantly, they had chosen him.

May leaned over and playfully swatted at Ben’s hand as he reached for the last piece of garlic bread again, but the difference was, it was on May’s plate. Dangerous game Ben... "Ben, seriously! You’ve had two already!"

Ben grinned and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. You can have the last piece… but only because I love you."

May rolled her eyes. “Yeah, It wasn’t really a question. It was mine the moment I put it on my plate.” She said fondly.

Peter snorted, shaking his head. "You guys are so weird."

"Tell me about it," May quipped, smiling.

Peter watched them, a warmth flooding his chest as the sound of their laughter filled the room, before they started talking about how their day had gone so far. The simple act of being together, of sharing a meal, of having a conversation, was everything. It was more than he could’ve ever asked for.

For the first time in days, Peter didn’t think about Tony Stark. Or Pepper Potts. The biological parents who had abandoned him. Who had let him go to a home that was abusive and neglectful. He didn’t need to think about them anymore.

They didn’t care about him. They never had, and they never would. If they didn’t want him, then he wouldn’t waste another second thinking about them. Wishing things had gone differently.

Peter had everything he needed right here.

Ben and May had been there for him through everything. His fears, his confusion, his anger, and they were still here. They had helped him rebuild himself, piece by piece, long after the world around him had shattered. They didn’t owe him anything, yet they had given him so much: their time, their love, their patience. They had chosen to take him in and help him heal from wounds no one else had cared to notice.

He hadn’t realized how much they had done for him until moments like these. Moments where everything was just- right. The laughter, the love, the way they made him feel like he mattered. He didn’t need the Stark name. He didn’t need the wealth or the fame or the recognition.

He had this.

And he was more than okay with that.

Aunt May reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "You’ve been awfully quiet tonight, Peter. Everything alright?" she asked softly, her gaze kind but searching.

Peter nodded, his smile genuine. "Yeah, just thinking."

"About what?" Ben asked, raising an eyebrow. "You know you can always talk to us."

Peter looked at them both, his heart swelling with emotion. "About how lucky I am," he said simply, his voice steady. "About how much you’ve done for me. And how much you mean to me."

There was a quiet pause, and then Aunt May’s eyes softened, her lips curling into a tender smile. "Oh, Pete," she whispered. "We love you, kid. You don’t ever have to doubt that."
Ben nodded, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity. "We’re proud of you, Peter. Every day. You’re our family, and nothing’s ever gonna change that."

Peter gave them a small smile.

This was love. This was real. And this was enough.

As they all continued to eat and laugh, Peter’s heart lightened further, and he let himself forget about his past, all of the hurt, the questions, the abandonment. He was home. He was loved. And that was all he needed.

Chapter Text

November 8th, 2014

The kitchen was filled with the familiar smell of pancakes as Peter walked into the kitchen, already feeling the weight of the day pressing on him. Mornings were never his favorite, especially when it meant dealing with his growing pile of schoolwork.

He had a English project due by the end of the month, and that feeling of dread hanging over him. But, at least today, he had one bright thing to look forward to, the school day would end, and that would bring him one step closer to something fun.

Whatever that may be. Maybe Ned and MJ would be willing to go to the arcade after school?

At least it was Friday.

Aunt May stood at the stove, flipping pancakes while humming softly to herself, worn apron tied around her waist. Uncle Ben sat at the table, reading the paper and sipping his coffee.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Aunt May called cheerfully, glancing over her shoulder with a smile. “I was starting to think you were gonna sleep through breakfast."

Peter groaned, barely managing to keep his eyes open as he pulled a chair out. "Too much on my mind, May. I barely got any sleep last night."

Ben raised an eyebrow without lowering his paper. “That’s unusual. Usually, you sleep like a rock.”

Peter mumbled something about school being stressful, but honestly, it wasn’t just school. There was always this weird, suffocating pressure when it came to thinking about the Starks... which had become a subject he absolutely didn’t want to think about, but easier said than done. It felt like a bomb waiting to go off, and he was definitely trying to avoid any more explosions in his life.

But honestly, it was becoming hard not to see them everywhere. Especially with the avengers getting so popular. Whatever. He was just going to focus on what was going on his crazy life right now.

“Have you finished that English project yet?” Aunt May asked casually, already knowing the answer.

Peter paused, then reached for his juice, trying to stall. “Uh... I’m working on it. Totally. Just... refining the details.”

Ben snorted from behind his paper. “Refining details? You haven’t even started it yet, have you?”

Peter winced. "I... might need a little more time."

Aunt May shot Peter a playful but stern look as she set a plate of pancakes in front of him. "Peter, if you don’t at least start, we might have to send you to a special school for people who procrastinate."

“Come on, Aunt May, I’ve got this. And I have started it! Just.. like.. two words…?” Peter said, trying to sound confident. He was really just stalling-he hadn’t even picked a topic for the project yet.

Ben set the paper down, shaking his head. “You’re gonna wake up the night before and try to put it all together, aren’t you?”

Peter groaned again, stuffing a bite of pancake in his mouth to avoid answering. This was his life. A cycle of school, homework, and then those awkward, tension-filled moments where he had to avoid talking about the Stark family and Stark Industries. He thought that Ned was beginning to become suspicious of his unwillingness to carry on conversation when that was the topic. Especially after the whole Im-gonna-ditch-my-friend-in-the-middle-of-a-sleepover-just-because-I-don’t-know-how-to-handle-my-emotions Incident.

He just hoped that Ned didn’t connect the dots.

Aunt May smiled knowingly as she cleared the plates. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Just make sure to eat something today, okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Peter muttered, half-heartedly. “I’ll survive.”

"Survive? You mean barely survive," Ben teased, winking at him.

Peter gave a dramatic sigh as he finished his breakfast. “Okay, okay. I’ll get it together. Just... don’t be disappointed if I show up at the last minute with an idea that's... not as perfect as you’d like.”

Ben laughed. “I’ll expect the best science project you’ve ever made. It had better be nothing less than enough that Tony Stark himself offers you a job at his company.”

He said it Jokingly, Peter knew he didn’t mean it, Ben had never wanted to pressure his academically after all of the trauma that came from his ‘parents’.

Peter froze mid-bite, but he quickly forced himself to keep chewing, trying not to let the tension of the words settle on him. He hadn’t quite figured out how to respond to the Stark thing yet. In fact, he was still avoiding it altogether, just like he had been for the last few years. Stark Industries? Not in his life plan, no thanks.

Aunt May gave Peter a reassuring smile. "Alright, alright, let’s go, genius. You’ve got a whole day ahead of you. And would you mind grabbing some eggs after school? I just spent the last 2 on the pancake batter.” She said, making a fake sad face.

“Got it,” Peter mumbled, grabbing his backpack and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out the door.

“Larb you!” May shouted at him at the last moment.

“Larb you too!” he shouted back, closing the door behind him.

-

Peter met up with his friends MJ and Ned by their lockers, both of them already deep in conversation about who-knows-what.

MJ was the first to notice Peter walking up. “You look like you haven’t slept in days,” she said with a teasing smirk. “Everything okay?”

Peter ruffled his hair, a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, just... school stuff, y’know?”

Ned grinned. “Oh, I’m sure it’s just the usual thing, what’s the most procrastinating way to get out of doing an English project? But don’t worry, I’m sure whatever you throw together at the last minute will be just fine.”

Peter gave Ned a playful shove. “I heard that, and it’s not true!” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve got it. It’s just... it’s all fine.”

MJ raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You keep saying that, but your brain’s obviously somewhere else. Just don’t get so caught up in your ‘totally fine’ thing that you forget to actually do the work. Trust me, I know how it works.”

“I’m not that bad,” Peter protested.

Ned, ever the optimist, quickly shifted the topic. “What do you think we’re doing for lunch today?”

Peter shrugged. “I want pizza.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “You going to eat a whole pizza to yourself again, Parker?”

Peter grinned proudly. “Of course, I am. There’s no other way to do it!”

Ned started excitedly rambling about how his parents got him another Lego set for his birthday, and that they both should come over and help build it.

MJ had just rolled her eyes, “Ned, I don’t like Legos.”

Ned looked at her and thought for a moment. “Okay, fine. You can sit on the couch and read, while Peter and I build Legos.”

MJ shrugged. “Fine with me.”

Peter laughed, shaking his head at his two best friends. It was funny how, no matter how chaotic his day was, he always had this perfect little bubble of comfort when he was with them. Their playful banter, their jokes, everything was a little easier with MJ and Ned.

“You know, I’m totally in for that pizza idea. I’ve earned it with all my super hard schoolwork,” Ned said, grinning.

MJ rolled her eyes. “Right. Your ‘super hard’ schoolwork that involves you pretending your English project doesn’t exist. We see you.”

“I’m not pretending!” Peter insisted. “I’m just... waiting for the perfect moment of inspiration. Also, will everyone leave me alone about it? I’m not even that bad of a procrastinator!”

“Which will probably hit the night before it’s due,” MJ said dryly.

Ned clapped his hands. “You know, if we all just started working on one project together, it’d be way more efficient. Like, a group project where we only have to pretend to work together and then...”

“Then you steal the best ideas and take credit for them?” MJ interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Ned said, deadpan.

-

The day finally came to a close, and Peter was already in a daze of relief. As Mrs. Hollis walked into the room, she seemed to have some sort of announcement prepared.
“Alright, class,” she said with a wide grin. “I’ve got some exciting news for you all! Next week, we’re going on a field trip to Oscorp!”

Peter’s heart jumped in his chest. It was like a sudden burst of energy. Oscorp! One of the most prestigious science companies in the world. The thought of getting to see firsthand how cutting-edge technology worked, real, professional science, was more exciting than anything he could have imagined!

“Wait, what?!” Ned practically shouted from the back. “Oscorp? Are you serious?!”

Mrs. Hollis nodded, clearly amused. “Yes, Oscorp. You’ll be getting a tour of their research labs, looking at some of the innovative tech they’re working on. It’s an opportunity you won’t want to miss.”

Peter felt his pulse quicken as he exchanged a glance with Ned, who looked just as excited.

“That’s amazing,” Peter muttered, grinning. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep his excitement contained for the next week, but at least he had something to look forward to now. Finally, a chance to dive into some real science- no distractions, no Stark Industries looming over him.

Wait, was it bad that it was his dream to work for his father’s business coemption? Probably... Oh well.

Honestly, It wasn’t that he hated S.I. They were totally better than Oscorp. More professional and open to new ideas, plus it was better funded. It was just that he didn’t want anything to do with his biological family and working for a company that was owned by them, and having their last lame plastered everywhere, that just sounded terrible.

“Make sure to get your permission slips signed,” Mrs. Hollis continued, snapping Peter back to reality. “We’ll be leaving next Monday, so make sure everything is ready.”

As the class continued with the usual chatter about the trip, Peter leaned back in his seat, his mind already racing with possibilities. This was going to be awesome!

-

The bus pulled up to the towering, gleaming structure of Oscorp. Peter couldn’t help but stare out the window, his heart pounding in his chest. He was so excited. The name alone felt like it carried so much weight, technology, cutting-edge science, and innovation all under one roof! Peter felt like a kid who had just stepped into a candy store, only this wasn’t candy. This was the future of science, and he was about to see it firsthand.

Ned and MJ were talking excitedly beside him, but Peter couldn’t concentrate on their chatter. His mind was racing. He really wanted to work here, to show the world what he could do. To make May and Ben proud. (They were already proud of him though)

As they filed off the bus and onto the steps of the Oscorp building, the giant glass doors slid open, revealing a sleek, futuristic lobby filled with high-tech displays and automated security systems. A clean, almost sterile environment.

“Welcome to Oscorp!” a tour guide called out, her voice friendly but robotic, as if she was saying the same lines to hundreds of students before them. “Are you Mid-Town?” At the nod from the teacher, she smiled and continued. “My name’s Lisa, and I’ll be showing you all around today. I hope you’re all as excited as I am to get a glimpse of the innovations we’re working on here!”

-

The group moved through the vast lobby, past interactive screens showing off the latest projects—artificial intelligence, renewable energy solutions, bioengineering. Peter tried to keep his enthusiasm under control, but it was hard.

Every new display made his heart race a little faster. Oscorp was a hub of genius, the kind of place that could shape the world for years to come. And here he was, part of a group that was lucky enough to see it all.

Lisa led them down sleek, modern hallways, each one showcasing more advanced tech. As they passed an unmarked door, Peter caught a glimpse of some kind of lab—people in white coats working on intricate machinery, computers buzzing with data.

“Is that a prototype?” Peter asked aloud, unable to help himself.

Lisa smiled politely. “That’s part of our new sustainable energy initiative. I can’t give you all the details just yet, but I promise, you’re going to see some groundbreaking work before the day’s over.”

Peter’s eyes lit up. “Okay, wow.”

He barely heard Ned and MJ teasing him in the background, but he was too absorbed in the tour to care.

They moved deeper into the building, and Peter started feeling a little too excited, too eager. He was at the heart of it all! His hands were practically itching to get a closer look at everything. But before he could take another step, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A room. An unmarked, locked room.

Peter stopped in his tracks. Something about the door, the way it was tucked away behind a security gate, sent a strange shiver down his spine. Without thinking, his curiosity led him off the main group. He carefully sidestepped a few bystanders, his mind already whirling with questions. What was behind that door? Was it something top-secret? Was it... safe?

He crept closer, but before he could even touch the doorknob, a sharp voice called out.

“Peter! Where are you going?”

MJ.

Peter froze and turned around, his face going pale. “Uh, I... I thought I saw something,” he muttered, trying to cover up. But MJ wasn’t buying it. She arched an eyebrow.

“Come on, seriously?” she said with a smirk. “You’ve got the attention span of a goldfish. And you’re supposed to be on a tour, remember?”

Peter quickly shoved his curiosity aside and jogged back to the group, nodding sheepishly. But something inside him told him that there was more to this building than met the eye.

-

The tour was almost over, and Peter was buzzing with information. His mind was overwhelmed by all the incredible projects he’d seen. He hadn’t been this exited since Ben brought him to some fancy science museum in Chicago.

But then, as they entered the last part of the tour, an exhibit on cutting-edge bioengineering, Peter’s world was about to be flipped upside down.

Lisa led them to a set of glass-enclosed chambers, each one containing what looked like different types of lab experiments. One in particular caught Peter’s eye—an enclosure filled with various arachnids, their legs moving in quick, jerky motions.

“Is that a new species of spider?” Peter heard one of his classmates, Cindy ask. He listened for the answer he had been wondering, approaching the glass.

Lisa nodded. “Yes, that’s part of our experimental genetic project. We’ve been modifying the DNA of different species to study their potential for biological enhancements.”

The class and tour guide wandered off around the lab, leaving Ned, MJ, and Peter alone at the exhibit.

Peter couldn’t take his eyes off it. Modifying DNA? This was exactly the kind of thing he’d been dreaming of working on- though not like this. It was still incredibly cool. But then something strange happened. One of the spiders, a small but sleek-looking creature, seemed to move toward the edge of the enclosure.

Before Peter could move back, the spider skittered over the glass and, almost too quickly for him to react, slipped right through a small crack at the bottom of the enclosure.
Peter didn’t even have time to think before it darted up his arm.

“Whoa!” Peter yelped, jerking his arm back, but the spider was fast, sinking its fangs into his wrist in one swift motion.

The pain was instant, sharp and searing. Peter sucked in a breath, his vision blurring for a split second. But as quickly as the pain had come, it faded, leaving a strange tingling sensation behind.

“Peter!” MJ’s voice broke through his daze as she rushed to his side, concern etched across her face. “What just happened? Why did you yell?”

“I dunno- I’m fine- Its fine.” Peter said shakily, trying to hide the sudden dizziness that was sweeping over him. He looked down at his arm, seeing two tiny puncture marks slowly swelling.

But something was off.

The room suddenly felt like it was spinning. His stomach turned, and he felt a wave of nausea hit him like a freight train.

“Peter, are you okay?” Ned asked, his voice full of worry.

“I- yep! All good!” Peter answered, his words were slurring slightly.

He wasn’t okay. His body felt like it was on fire. His heart raced, his skin flushed with heat, and his legs felt weak as if they might give way beneath him. He staggered a few steps before managing to steady himself against the nearby wall.

“Peter, you look really pale,” MJ said, eyes narrowing in concern. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Peter tried to shake off the dizziness, but the world kept spinning. He knew he wasn’t okay. His skin was covered in a cold sweat, his stomach churning. But he didn’t want to make a scene. Not here. Not now.

“Yeah, I’m just... I think I’m just tired,” Peter lied, though it came out sounding weaker than he intended.

-

By the time the tour ended, Peter was barely holding it together. He felt like he was drifting in and out of consciousness, his body weak and heavy. MJ and Ned kept asking if he was okay, but he kept brushing them off.

“I’m just... I think I must be catching some cold or something.” he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady as they walked to the bus.

But deep down, he knew this wasn’t just exhaustion. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Distantly, he registered that he should probably tell an adult, but now his only focus was on getting home.

-

When Peter stumbled through the door at home, May looked up and stood from her chair at the kitchen table, rushing to his side and holding his arm. She was looking at him with concern.

“Peter?” she asked, frowning. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak but instead of words coming out, he started to cough. His legs were trembling now, and he was having a hard time keeping his balance.

Uncle Ben appeared in the hallway, his eyes immediately scanning Peter’s flushed face. “Hey buddy, you don’t look so good. Are you sick?”

“I’m fine,” Peter muttered, though his voice was hoarse and uneven. He was clearly not fine. His whole body felt like it was on fire, his temperature skyrocketing with each passing second.

Then, without warning, he darted to the toilet. He barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up.

“Peter!” Aunt May exclaimed, rushing in after him. “What happened? What’s going on?”

Peter couldn’t respond. He was too dizzy to even think straight, and every movement felt like it was dragging him underwater. The pain in his wrist where the spider had bitten him was throbbing, and he could feel his temperature climbing higher by the second.

May and Ben exchanged a panicked glance.

“Awe buddy let’s get you to bed. I’ll make you some dinner and you can try and sleep whatever this is off.” Aunt May said, her voice sympathetic, but tight with worry.
Peter couldn’t even respond. He just pulled himself up and to his bed. He sunk back onto the soft twin mattress, his vision blurring and the world around him spinning. After a few minutes, May and Ben went to the kitchen, leaving Peter to sleep.

-

For the next six days, Peter felt like his world had been turned upside down. After whatever happened at Oscorp, everything had spiraled out of control. The moment he got home, things just kept getting worse. It started with a fever so high it felt like his body was on fire, and it didn't let up for hours. He was sweating one minute and shivering the next. Every inch of him hurt. His joints, his muscles, even the air around him felt heavy.

The spider bite on his wrist kept itching and swelling, and even though he’d tried to ignore it, the strange tingling sensation never stopped. His vision blurred and he felt disoriented, like he was swimming in a fog that just wouldn’t quite cleared. He spent most of the first few days barely awake, just enough to throw up a few times or mumble something to Aunt May when she brought him food—though he could barely eat anything.

It was the longest, most miserable stretch of time Peter had endured in a while. The worst part wasn’t even the fever or the nausea. It was the uncertainty. The not knowing. What had happened at Oscorp? Was it the spider? Was it something else? His brain kept going over possibilities, but all he could do was sleep through it.

May and Ben had been amazing, though. May took work off to keep a constant watch over him, making sure he stayed hydrated, fed (even if he didn’t want to eat), and made him rest. Ben was less subtle, he’d hover around and constantly check Peter’s temperature, his worry only growing as the days went on.

They argued about who was going to work, though it made more sense for May to stay with him. Her hours were more flexible, and she had more sick days since Ben had gotten the Flu in the early spring.

It had become an argument. Now that Peter thought about it, that was the first time he had heard them get into an actual argument, not just playful bickering, Ben and May were both genuinely upset about not being able to stay home.

The argument went back and forth between them, they were both arguing the same thing.

Eventually though, they worked it out, May would stay with him from after dinner to the morning and then go to work. Ben would stay with him from after breakfast until may got home, usually an hour before dinner. That way, they both got to be with him, and nobody had to use any sick days. Though, that’s not what they were worried about.

They had never seen their boy so sick before. Sure, he was a pretty sickly kid, skinny and needed these big glasses, but what they were worried about was his asthma. That was always a concern when he got sick. It was a huge disadvantage when it came to his immune system.

He did register how weird it was that he could hear them talking so clearly from his bed. They were all the way in their bedroom, which was across the apartment. Though it sounded like they were in his room, talking right next to his ear.

-

By the end of the sixth day, Peter had barely left his room. His body was still weak, but he could feel that strange sensation in his veins slowly dulling down. The fever wasn’t as high, but it was still lingering. His throat was raw, he was exhausted, but he could see a light at the end of the tunnel.

That evening, Aunt May sat by his side, brushing a damp cloth over his forehead. “Peter,” she said softly, her eyes filled with concern. “If your temperature doesn’t go down by tomorrow, I’m taking you to the doctor. I don’t care what you say.”

Peter groaned. “May, please… I’m fine. I’m almost better.”

She shook her head. “You’ve been ‘almost better’ for six days now. I’m not taking any chances.”

She wasn’t playing. May never really got serious unless he was in trouble, or she was worried about something.

Ben nodded from the doorway; his expression serious. “We’re just trying to keep you safe, kiddo. We don’t know what’s going on with you. I’m not doctor, but even I can tell something’s not right.”

May added “I may be a nurse, but I don’t feel comfortable being the only opinion.”

Peter closed his eyes, exhaustion weighing him down. “I just want to sleep,” he muttered, barely audible.

“I know, I know,” Aunt May said, her voice gentle. “Just one more night, okay? Let’s see what tomorrow brings.”

Peter nodded. She kissed him on the forehead before heading back to the living room to let him sleep.

-

The next morning, Peter’s eyelids fluttered open. The light creeping through his bedroom window felt brighter than it had in days. His head didn’t feel foggy, and the dull ache that had settled in his muscles seemed to have dissipated.

Peter realized he didn’t feel sick.

He sat up, cautiously at first, then more confidently as he realized that he wasn’t dizzy. He wasn’t sweating through his shirt, or shivering uncontrollably. His wrist still had the faint marks from the bite, but the swelling had gone down. He breathed deeply, testing himself.

I feel... okay?

He stood up and stretched, a little unsteady at first, but nothing that felt like illness. His body didn’t feel weak anymore, and his temperature was normal. No fever, no chills. He felt better than he had in days. Actually, he felt better than he usually did.

“Peter? You alright kiddo?” May asked gently from the other side of his door, and he froze for a moment. She’d probably been checking on him, worried that he’d still be unwell.
Peter grinned to himself. “I’m fine!” he called back, surprised at how much energy he had in his voice. “I feel fine!”

A moment later, May opened the door, eyes wide. “What? You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, walking over to his dresser to grab some clean clothes. “I feel completely normal. No fever, no dizziness... I feel... fine.”

May stood in the doorway, still looking skeptical. “I swear, if you’re pulling some sort of trick on me so you don’t have to go to the doctor, I’ll-”

“No tricks,” Peter said with a half-smile. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m better.”

She let out a breath. “Thank goodness.” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m so glad you’re better Peter. You really scared us.”

Peter smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

May walked over and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly. “You scared the hell out of me, kiddo. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Peter hugged her back, grateful for her warmth and care. "I’m sorry, Aunt May. Really."

Ben walked in just then, eyes narrowed. “You okay, Pete?” he asked, though he couldn’t hide the relief in his voice.

Peter nodded again, his smile growing. “I feel amazing. It’s like I’ve been asleep for a year or something.”

May smirked. “Not quite a year, it was a whole week though!”

Ben walked over, gently putting a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Good. You’ve got us pretty worried there, kid.”

He flinched a little at the touch. It was clear that ben was trying to be gentle, but his hand felt so heavy, as if his skin was incredibly sensitive.

Ben drew his hand back, as if he was just burned. He looked at May who was also looking concerned. Peter hadn’t flinched at touch in years. Not since his parents.

“You sure you’re okay?” Ben asked skeptically.

Peter looked at his uncle with wider than usual eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I’m still a bit sensitive.”

Peter’s eyes flickered toward the window. The sunlight streaming through the curtains made everything feel... brighter than usual. He guessed he hadn’t realized how much of a fog he’d been in until now. “I’m sorry for worrying you guys.” he said again, sheepishly.

“It’s alright buddy, you don’t have to apologize for it, you couldn’t control it.” Ben said, still looking cautious.

“I’m going to head downstairs, bacon and eggs sound good?” He asked.

Peter’s mouth watered at the mention of food. He felt like he hadn’t eaten in years.

“Yes please! Can I have like- 5 eggs? And- like at least- 4 strips of bacon?” he asked.

Ben chuckled. “Sure, kid. At least you’re eating.”

May smiled as she followed Ben out. “And take a shower! You stink!” before closing the door behind her.

-

Once May had gone, he got up to take a shower, when he opened the door to the bathroom, he broke the door.

What?!

The door must have been loose. He’ll fix it later.

He went into the bathroom and picked up his tube of toothpaste, It felt like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in years. But when he went to squeeze it, toothpaste went flying everywhere.

“What the-“ Peter muttered.

Carefully, he turned on the water faucet.

What was this all about? Did he wake up with superstrength or something?

He needed to test this. He walked outside of the bathroom and to the heavy dresser that sat in the hallway, putting his hands underneath it, he lifted it. It felt like he was holding a literal feather.

He put the dresser down before anyone could see him. This was crazy. Was he still sick? Was he having some kind of crazy fever dream? This shouldn’t even be possible. Was this the spider?

He walked back into the bathroom, and when he looked in the mirror, he realized that he didn’t have his glasses on. Well that didn’t make any sense, he could see clearly- actually- he could see more clearly than he usually could with them on.

And with that clear eyesight, he looked at the rest of himself in the mirror. Since when did he have abs!? Or biceps!? What is even going on right now!?

This was incredible!

After a few minutes, he just came to the conclusion that the spider that bit him had altered his DNA, just like the tour guide said they were experimenting with.

And now he was some sort of- enhanced? Mutant?

He had so many questions.

“Peter? You okay in there?” May’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Just brushing my teeth!” He said.

“Okay, well I’m going to head to work, see you tonight!” She said, before turning to leave.

He focused on the sound of her footsteps, and realized that he could hear them all the way until she left the building, 6 floors down.

Well that wasn’t normal.

He realized that he was taking too long in the bathroom. He would explore whatever this was after he ate. He was starving.

-

After breakfast, Peter went back to his room to take a nap. Ben insisted that he takes today easy since ‘he's still recovering’. His phone buzzed on the desk across the room. He walked over and checked it, expecting the usual texts from Ned and MJ.

But when he unlocked his phone, the screen was flooded with messages. Like, flooded.

MJ: ‘Are you okay?’
MJ: ‘Peter.’
Ned: ‘Peter, please answer. You’re freaking me out.’
MJ: ‘Dude you’ve got to answer either me or Ned. You can’t just leave acting all weird and then not answer your phone.’
MJ: ‘Come on! We are getting worried, why aren’t you at school?’
Ned: ‘Dude, you’ve been MIA for DAYS! What’s going on?’
MJ: ‘I swear, if you’re not dead, I’m gonna kill you.’
Ned: ‘Seriously, just a simple text message, please dude-’
MJ: ‘Peter, are you alive? Text me back’
Ned: ‘That’s it I’m gonna call May if you don’t answer within the next 12 hours’

Peter blinked. “Whoa... okay.” He whispered to himself.

He scrolled through the endless messages, barely able to keep up with the rapidly increasing number of texts, before he finally tapped out a quick response.

Peter: ‘I’m fine. Seriously. I didn’t mean to freak you guys out, but I’m better. Sorry about that.’

A few seconds passed, then his phone buzzed again.

MJ: “FINALLY. Where have you been??”
Ned: ‘Don’t do that again. I swear, I was about to call May’
MJ: ‘You’re not allowed to disappear like that! We were all super worried.’

Peter smirked.

Peter: ‘Awe, so you do care about me?’
MJ: ‘Don’t let it get to your head. You’re still a loser.’

Peter couldn’t help but smile at the outpouring of concern from his friends.

Peter: ‘Thanks, MJ.’
Peter: ‘I’m really sorry’

he texted back, feeling a warmth inside.

Peter: ‘I didn’t mean to make you guys worry.’
Ned: ‘Well Flash started the rumor that you got expelled after breaking some kind of rules at Oscorp, so good luck with that.’
Peter: ‘Wonderful. That’s just wonderful.’

Peter rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen. Even though he just ate a huge breakfast, he was already hungry again.

-

Later that evening, after all the messages had been dealt with, and he had a nice nap, Peter found himself curled up on the couch with May and Ben. The three of them had decided to have a movie night.

May settled in with a blanket, while Ben made some popcorn. They were watching an old action movie, Peter loved it, but the best part was just being together.

As the movie went on, Peter was content just sitting here with his family. It had been a rough week, but in this moment, everything felt right.

“You know,” May said quietly, her voice tinged with emotion, “we love you, Peter. We were so worried these last few days. But I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

Ben looked over at Peter, his expression soft. “We’ve got your back, kiddo. Always.”

Peter looked between his aunt and uncle with a small smile. He’d never doubted their love for him, but in that moment, hearing them say it meant more than anything.

“I love you both, too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks for everything. Really.”

May smiled and pulled him into a tight hug, and Ben joined them. The three of them sat there, just holding each other as the credits rolled.

-

Chapter Text

November 18, 2014

Peter wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked back into school. After a week of missing classes, mostly due to being sick and trying to figure out what was going on with his enhancements, he wasn’t feeling the most optimistic. He’d spent enough time in isolation to know how quickly people could forget you or start making assumptions about where you’d been.

But as soon as he stepped through the school gates and saw the familiar faces, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

He spotted Ned and MJ right away, standing by their lockers, laughing about something, looking just like they usually did. Their presence made him feel less like the weird kid, and that he had actual friends.

“Peter!” Ned exclaimed as soon as he saw him. “Dude, where have you been? We thought you’d been kidnapped or something!”

Peter grinned and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was sick. Just needed a little time to recover.”

Ned looked him up and down. “Recover? Man, you look like you recovered a lot- Wait, why are your shoulders a different shape? Where did your glasses go? Are you wearing contacts?” The two started bombing Peter with questions, asking another before he had the chance to answer the first. It made Peter laugh as he tried to answer some of the questions that caught his attention.

“I don’t know about the shoulders, yes, I’m wearing contacts. No, why would I have been working out while I was sick?”

MJ rolled her eyes but smiled in her own understated way. “Yeah, you look a lot better than the last time I saw you. But that’s a low bar.”

Peter laughed. “Thanks, I missed you guys too. I’m sorry I didn’t think to text you, but I also didn’t think about anything else, I kinda only had like- 2 braincells left.”

“Well, you were half-dead on the way home from Oscorp, so I assumed that you were sick. Ned’s the one who was coming up with all the crazy conspiracies.” MJ said dryly, but Peter caught the concerned look in her eyes. It was obvious she’d been worried.

“Its fine,” Peter said quickly. “Really. I’m just glad to be back. Anything exiting happen while I was gone? Do I have a mountain of homework that’s gonna fall on my face when I open my locker?”

MJ rolled her eyes. “Yep, mountains. And Ned already told you about the whole Flash situation.”

Ned pulled out his phone and started scrolling. “Well, while you were off living your best sick life, I got us all caught up on the latest meme trends. You’re so behind, man.”

Peter smirked. “Guess I’ll have to live with it.”

“Please,” MJ said, rolling her eyes again. “Like any of us would survive the weekend without Ned making us catch up on internet memes.”

Ned puffed out his chest proudly. “I know what the people need.”

-

It didn’t take long for word to spread that Peter was back. They were in high school after all. As he walked down the hallway with Ned and MJ, he couldn’t ignore the whispers and curious glances. It wasn’t as if he was some kind of famous person, but being gone for a week definitely made him stick out.

“Hey, Parker, you back from your vacation?” came a voice from behind him.

Peter turned to find a guy from his class, one of the quieter students who usually kept to himself, giving him an amused smile. Peter gave him a small, polite nod, trying not to let the comment bother him too much.

“Yep,” Peter said, half-smiling. “Miss me?”

The guy raised an eyebrow. “Nah, just wasn’t sure if you got kicked out for some crazy science disaster.” He shrugged, clearly trying to sound casual. “Ya know, rumors.”

He hadn’t realized people were speculating about his absence. But it also confused him. He was just this nobody with a scholarship in a school full of smart and rich people. Why would anyone be interested in him?

Before he could respond, Ned spoke up, stepping in between him and the guy. “You know, Peter did have a good reason for being gone. Maybe you should be careful about what you’re spreading around, huh?”

The guy blinked in surprise but backed off, muttering a half-hearted apology.

Ned shot Peter a quick glance, raising his eyebrows slightly, and he could tell he wasn’t buying the guy’s “rumor” excuse.

“Thanks, Ned,” Peter muttered, grateful for his support.

“Don’t mention it,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “People like that love to spread gossip and create drama.”

As they made their way to their next class, Peter couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He didn’t mind the attention as much as he’d expected- if only because he had two of the best people in his corner, but something about the idea that rumors were already flying made him a little sick to his stomach. Still, there wasn’t much he could do about it.

As they passed by a few more students, Peter caught snippets of other conversations honestly from all over the hall, thanks to his stupid enhanced hearing. Though, It also made things super overwhelming.

“... Parker was gone for like a week. Now he just pops back up. Wonder what happened…”

“… Is he back in school because of some science thing with Oscorp?.”

“… Flash said he got expelled or something, right? I heard they were pretty mad about him… Maybe it was just a suspension.”

Great. Just great.

-

By the time lunch came around, Peter was starting to feel the weight of the whispers more. He was hating all the attention. Couldn’t he just go back to being the weird scrawny kid with no social skills?

He could hear bits and pieces of gossip swirling around, all about why he’d been absent for so long, and the coincidence that it lined up with the trip to Oscorp. He couldn’t tell if it was just high schoolers being high schoolers, or if there was something more malicious behind it.

Peter was about to sit down with MJ and Ned when he saw him, the face he had been hoping to avoid. Flash Thompson.

All three of them groaned quietly.

Flash was standing with a small group of friends, his eyes scanning the cafeteria. When he spotted Peter, a smug grin spread across his face. Flash walked over to their table with some weird way of walking, as if he thought he was so cool. His mean girl’s worthy minions following him.

“Well, well, well, look who’s back from vacation,” Flash drawled. “I heard you got yourself expelled. What’d you do, Parker? Break a bunch of equipment or mess up some high-tech gizmo?”

Peter clenched his jaw, but before he could say anything, MJ spoke up, her voice cold but cutting.

“Flash, you’re really going to stand here and spread lies? Peter was sick, and you’re spreading rumors about him like it’s some joke. He literally wasn’t even gone for that long.”

Flash’s grin didn’t falter, but there was a moment of hesitation in his eyes. “What do you care, Michelle? I’m just saying what everyone’s talking about.”

Ned stood up from the table, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with a surprising amount of anger. “Flash, you might want to get your facts straight before you start spreading things around. Peter didn’t get expelled. He was out because he was sick. Try minding your own business. Maybe get a life while you’re at it, seems like you need something to do.”

Peter was a little taken aback by how quickly MJ and Ned jumped into the conversation. He wasn’t used to them taking such a stand for him. Usually, they were more about just ignoring Flash’s nonsense and moving on.

“Seriously, Flash, you must’ve missed the memo that no one actually cares about your opinion,” MJ added, not even looking at him. She grabbed her tray and turned back to Peter.

“Come on, we’re not giving him any more of our attention.”

Flash tried to recover, but the damage had been done. His minions, who had been laughing earlier, now looked awkward.

“Whatever,” Flash muttered, rolling his eyes. “I was just having some fun. Can’t take a joke.”

MJ, not one to leave things unfinished, added, “No, you can’t take responsibility for the things you say. But that’s nothing new.”

And with that, Flash stalked off, his ‘friends’ trailing behind him.

The three giggled as the minion who looked like a guy version of Gretchen Wieners tripped into a girl, spilling her chocolate milk all over him.

-

Peter watched Flash leave with some mixture of relief and frustration. He didn’t know why Flash had it out for him, but honestly, it kinda felt personal.

“Thanks guys.” Peter said quietly as he sat down with his friends.

MJ shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “What are friends for, right?”

Ned sat down next to him with a grin. “You’re one of us. No one messes with you unless they want to mess with all of us. We should come up with some name for our little group. Like- The Nerd Heard, or maybe the Tripple Bond? Haha, get it? Cause-

MJ interrupted him. “Absolutely not Ned. That is just not going to happen.”

Ned frowned at MJ, but looked back up at Peter. “We are the group of outcasts, in a school of nerds. So we gotta stick together, right?” he finished with his dorky smile that made Ned, Ned.

Peter felt a warmth spread through him, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t deserve you guys.”

“Of course you do,” MJ said with a smirk. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

“Yeah,” Ned added, “and we’re really good at it.”

Peter leaned back in his seat, letting the comfort of his friends’ support sink in. There would be more rumors, more whispers, more people who enjoyed bringing others down, more bullies. But for now, he didn’t have to face any of it alone.

And that felt like enough.

-

It was that Saturday, in the later hours of the morning. Peter Parker was, as he usually was on the weekends, alone in his room. The house was quiet, except for the hum of the broken refrigerator two floors down. It had been broken for a few days now, and it was really irritating him.

May was at work, and Ben had left to help a friend with some work around their house. Peter didn’t mind the alone time. It gave him time to process the strange, unsettling things that had been happening to him. Apparently he had muscles now.

For the few days, ever since that fieldtrip to Oscorp, and then the sickness, he had been trying to figure out what had happened. He had done his research on the spider that bit him, but it didn’t have much to say. That wasn’t too surprising, seeing as it was a new species and all.

All he knew was that it was for an experiment researching genetic altering DNA, and that it was radioactive.

His body had completely changed in the past week. Like it was betraying him. Or maybe just giving him incredible features? Every morning, he woke up with a new set of symptoms: his hands would be tingly, his ears would ring with a constant high pitched buzz, and occasionally, he would feel a jolt of energy shoot through his muscles. He couldn’t make sense of any of it.

The worst part was that no one knew. Not May or Ben, not his friends, no one had any idea what was going on with him. And Peter didn’t know how to explain it. How do you tell someone that you think you’re developing superpowers? How do you explain that you feel like your whole body is betraying you? Especially when you don’t understand it yourself.
Today, Peter had planned to spend the morning doing something normal. He needed a distraction from the whirlwind of his thoughts, so he picked up his chemistry notebook and began to skim through the pages. But it wasn’t long before he couldn’t sit still or concentrate.

His hand itched.

No, more like tingled. Like a thousand tiny ants crawling under his skin. He flexed his fingers, trying to ignore it, but it only got worse. The sensation was so strong now that it was almost painful.

Peter put his pen down and looked at his hand. He tried to shake it off, but it wasn’t going away.

“Not now,” he muttered to himself, slapping his hand against his leg. But that only made it worse. He could feel the tingling spread up his arm, like his entire body was being wired with electricity. He could hear his heart rate pick up, the pulse in his ears getting louder and louder. The noise felt like it was coming from inside his skull, pressing against the walls of his head.

“What is happening?” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to feel like he was losing control of his body.

But then he did something he hadn’t meant to do.

He reached out and grabbed the pencil that had been resting on his desk as it tried rolling off. His grip tightened without thinking, and the next thing he knew, he’d snapped the pencil in half.

“Great,” he muttered, looking at the broken pencil pieces in his hand. He wasn’t trying to break it—he had just picked it up. His fingers had simply crushed it without him realizing it. He looked at his hand in disbelief.

The reality of having these weird senses hit him like a ton of bricks, and the weight of that realization made his stomach churn. What was happening to him? He didn’t want to be some freak. He didn’t want to have these strange powers that were so hard to control.

But as much as he tried to deny it, they were still there.

-

Later that day, Peter decided to test it. He couldn’t just keep ignoring it. His body was doing things that he didn’t understand. He had to know what was happening.

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at himself. He was just a normal kid, at least, that’s what he’d always thought. He looked normal. He wasn’t like those guys in the movies, with their superhuman abilities. He was just Peter Parker. A 14-year-old kid who didn’t belong.

But now, he was enhanced?

Peter took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, trying to feel for that same tingling sensation. He concentrated, focusing hard, and slowly he reached his hand toward the edge of the bathroom counter.

The moment his fingers touched the edge, something strange happened. He didn’t even have to try, it was like his hand stuck there. He jerked his hand back in surprise, but it stayed pressed against the counter.

“What the hell?” Peter gasped, his heart racing. “This is crazy.”

He pressed harder, and his fingers seemed to stick to the surface like glue. His breath caught in his throat. He felt the sticky sensation spread up his hand, but when he tried to pull away, it wouldn’t budge.

Panicking, Peter yanked harder. He was starting to sweat, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. Then, with one final tug, he managed to free his hand. He stepped back, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Okay, okay... This is bad. This is bad.”

He looked at his hand again, still feeling the strange tingling. He didn’t know how to explain it. How do you explain to anyone that you’re sticking to things like some kind of spider mutant?

The panic inside him started to grow, and he had to sit down. He buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the growing ache in his head. Why was this happening to him? Why had it happened now? Why do so many bad things happen to him?

Why was I left behind?

Peter’s thoughts spiraled, as they often did. He couldn’t help it. His mind drifted back to the past, to the things he’d been told, things that had haunted him for most of his life. He wasn’t some normal kid. He was the wrong kid.

His parents had left him. His parents had never wanted him, never wanted to be a father or a mother to him. Peter didn’t even know the full story. All he knew was that one day, his parents had just... Had someone take him away. They’d never come to find him or save him from Mary and Richard. And he had spent most of his life thinking they just didn’t care. They didn’t want him. They didn’t need him.

But his siblings-his twin brother, Harley, and his younger sister, Morgan-they got to stay with their parents. They were the ones who had gotten to grow up with real parents, not a man who only pretended to be a father and a cold woman who wouldn’t even look at him after a few weeks.

Peter’s hands balled into fists, the anger bubbling up again. He didn’t want to be angry. He didn’t want to be bitter, but the jealousy gnawed at him. They hadn’t been abandoned, but he had.

Why? Why did he get left behind? Had he rambled too much as a kid? What had made them just decide that they didn’t want him anymore?

It wasn’t fair.

-

Peter’s frustration didn’t just stem from the powers he couldn’t control—it was everything. Everything about his life felt wrong. It was like he was living someone else’s story, and he didn’t know how to find his place. He wasn’t meant to have these powers, and he definitely wasn’t meant to be Tony Stark’s biological kid.

But he was.

The more Peter thought about it, the more he realized something; he had no idea how to fix this.

But then, as he walked past an alley on his way back from school, he found some abandoned mechanical parts just sitting there! Of course he couldn’t just let them be thrown away, we could find something to make with them.

Later that evening, an idea came to him. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the box of discarded mechanical part sitting on his desk. Some of the junk looked vaguely familiar. Things that might be useful.

He didn’t know why it occurred to him. Maybe it was a strange instinct. Maybe it was the fact that he’d spent so much time tinkering with science projects over the years. But suddenly, it hit him.

Web-shooters.

He had entertained the idea of being a superhero, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to do that with no weapons.

When the Idea of web shooters came to mind, he realized that if he could just find a good formula, he could just web people up, and not even need to hurt anyone! He could help people! He didn’t know how, but that was the answer. The tools and scraps around him were his way to take control. To make something out of all this chaos.

Peter felt a spark of excitement flicker in his chest.

-

The next afternoon, Peter set off on his mission. He had a plan now. He would figure out how to build something that could help him control his powers. He needed to get supplies, but first he needed the pieces. And a costume. It needed to be cool, like the avengers. It also needed to be able to let Peter stick to things through his shoes. He was going to need gloves, just to keep his fingerprints to himself. He didn’t need any of this being tracked back to Peter Parker.

He started searching the internet for ideas for looks, materials to use for the costume, and things that he could use.

The dumpster behind the hardware store was filled with scrap metal, old wires, and half-broken gadgets. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was perfect. The perfect starting point.

The school chemistry labs would do for experimenting with web-fluid. Good thing he loved chemistry; he knew where to start. He needs something that’s small, compact, but would last long. He needed it to also be strong enough to hold his weight, and then some.

Peter picked through the garbage, looking for anything that might help him build his own set of web-shooters. He felt a strange sense of pride as he found old mechanical parts and discarded pieces of metal. It was all his. He wasn’t going to rely on Tony Stark, or anyone else for that matter.

He searched his closet and thrift stores, before he found a hoodie, a long sleeve shirt, sweatpants, a thick ski mask, thin gloves, and boots with thin soles. He used different craft supplies to create designs, and engineered goggles that would help him with controlling his enhanced senses. He created his web shooters, and found the perfect formula for web fluid. He had a small belt on his costume that held extra capsules of the web fluid.

Now he just needed a name. Well, he was part spider now, so why not just play it simple? How about Spider-Man?

Chapter Text

Peter stood by the edge of his bed, bouncing up and down on his heels excitedly as he stared at the suit laid out in front of him. The red and blue fabric of the sweatpants-and-sweatshirt-and-other-accessories-turned-superhero costume sat under the harsh light of his desk lamp, turning the whole area around it red and blue.

His first real Spider-Man suit. He had designed it, crafted it, and finally he was getting ready to use it for the first time. It had taken weeks of trial and error, countless late nights sitting hunched over the desk in his bedroom tinkering with it, and many failed attempts at swinging in empty parking lots ending in a huge bruise across his hip, but now it was finished.

He thought it looked pretty good for the fact that he had only spent $30 on it. It would have been free, but there were some parts that he wouldn’t have been able to find in the garbage.

Even as his heart raced with excitement, a part of him hesitated. What was he even doing? He wasn’t trained for this. He didn’t even know how to control his new powers fully yet. And yet… he couldn’t stop. Every part of him was urging him to get out there, to do something. Something to prove he wasn’t just the forgotten, unwanted child of Tony and Pepper Stark.

Nope, he wasn’t going to think like that. He was Peter Parker. Noah Stark died eight years ago, the moment he set foot into the Parker’s household.

He glanced down at the web-shooters he’d spent hours tinkering with, carefully adjusting their mechanisms until they felt just right. It was time to test them.

With a deep breath, Peter slid the web-shooters onto his wrists. His hands formed a weird hand shape as he pressed the small trigger buttons. At first, nothing happened. He clicked again, more forcefully this time. The webbing shot out with a loud thwip, catching the far corner of his room and splattering against the wall. Peter’s eyes widened as he tugged at the rope—he hadn’t quite expected it to go that far.

He grabbed the web dissolvent spray that he had designed along with the web fluid, and once he sprayed it, he went back to what he was doing. “Okay, okay,” he muttered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. The suit felt heavy on his body, more than he’d imagined it would. He was going to have to try and find a lighter material later on. “Focus. You got this.”

He aimed the web-shooters again, this time a little more carefully. Thwip. The webbing connected to the far wall again, a little less all over the place, and more- in one place. Peter tugged on the line, feeling the satisfying tension as he reeled the webbing in.

“Not bad,” he whispered, his lips curling into a little grin. But there was no time to dwell on small victories. The real test was ahead—he needed to learn how to swing.
His first attempt was less than graceful. He swung a few feet, barely able to adjust his balance before his feet slipped out from under him. With a startled shout, Peter crashed into a pile of books. He groaned and tried to push himself up, frustrated.

This was harder than he thought.

“Peter?” May’s voice came through the closed door, coming from the kitchen.

“I’m fine! Just- fell!” He responded quickly.

“Okay, be careful kiddo.” May said, and she went quiet. He listened and heard the page of whatever papers she was working on flip. Good, she was distracted again.

It took several more attempts before he finally began to get the hang of it, swinging from one end of his room to the other, adjusting his position in mid-air with more ease each time. But it still didn’t feel perfect. He was still awkward and unsure of himself.

But that was okay. He didn’t need to be perfect on his first night out. He just needed to try.

-

The city was darker than Peter remembered it. The streets stretched out beneath him like a tangle of shadows and dim lights, its endless maze of towering buildings making him feel both small and oddly free. He was perched on a rooftop, his fingers tightly gripping the ledge, eyes scanning the busy streets below. He could hear the faint sounds of traffic, the distant hum of life continuing on, oblivious to the new hero silently watching over them.

Could he really call himself a hero? He hadn’t really saved anyone yet.

Peter stood still for a moment, his breath came in shallow huffs, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling up inside him. The idea of being Spider-Man, of using his powers for good, felt sort of overwhelming, but also freeing. He had a purpose. Why else would he have been given these powers?

“Okay, prove you can do this. You got this.” he whispered to himself.

He leapt from the roof easily, swinging from the first building he could reach. His legs adjusted mid-air as he shot another web to catch the next rooftop. The rush of wind in his face was like nothing he’d ever felt before. So exciting and terrifying at the same time.

The first few swings were shaky, as though he hadn’t quite figured out how to sync with the motion. His heart raced as he swerved between buildings, narrowly missing a billboard and almost plummeting to the street below. Focus. His breath caught as he slipped a little, but he managed to balance himself, and continued swinging. He got the hang of it after a while.

He swung over the city, gaining more confidence with each thread he shot. He ducked around corners, leaped between alleyways, his webbing barely missing a few pedestrians on the sidewalk.

“Sorry!” He called out, before continuing on.

After about 10 minutes of swinging, he heard a woman’s scream. The sound echoed through the alleyways, sharp and panicked. Without a second thought, Peter shot a line of webbing to the nearest building and swung toward the source.

-

When he landed in front of the woman, he saw the threat immediately. A man, tall and broad shouldered, was trying to grab the woman’s purse, his face hidden by a mask. Her expression was terrified and her voice trembled as she pleaded with the guy to leave her alone.

Peter’s heartbeat thudded loudly in his chest, his muscles tensing. He didn’t think. He just acted.

A stream of webbing shot from his wrist, slamming into the dude’s arm, pinning it to a nearby lamppost. The man cursed loudly, struggling against the sticky substance that held him back. Peter didn’t wait for him to recover. He lunged forward, bringing his fist to the man’s jaw. The dude crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as Peter stood over him, staring down at the unconscious figure.

Whoa.. he had been pulling his punches, wasn’t even close to using his full strength. Yet he still managed to do that?

The woman, still trembling, looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and awe. There was a bit of fear there too.

Peter felt a rush of pride and awkwardness. “Uh… My name’s Spider-Man.” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the jerk he’d just taken down, as if uncertain of what to say next.

The woman’s eyes softened, her fear replaced by something else. “Thank you… Thank you so much.” Peter saw her vulnerability, her fear melting away as she realized she was safe.

Peter just nodded. He wanted to say something, to reassure her, but his brain and mouth were not on the same page. Instead, he simply smiled awkwardly and backed away. “No problem. Just… be careful next time. And- call the police I guess?”

He didn’t stick around to hear her reply. His webbing shot out again, and before she could say anything else, he was gone, swinging behind one of the many tall buildings.

-

Peter landed on another rooftop, his chest heaving as the adrenaline of the fight started to wear off. He had done it. He had saved someone!

But as the initial excitement wore off, a different feeling filled him. It was a scared, anxious feeling. This was real. This wasn’t just some game. This was real, and this was dangerous.

The joy of saving someone felt good. It felt nice to know that he had helped someone.

Peter looked out over the city, the night air cold, even though his hoodie and sweatpants. Maybe this isn’t about proving anything to anyone, he thought. Maybe this is about proving something to myself.

And with that thought, he swung off. He was ready to do more than just hide in the shadows. He had these powers, and with them came the responsibility of using them to do good things for others, even if it was just protecting his neighborhood. Its not like Queens was super small, though it was when you looked at the big picture.

-

It had been a few weeks since Peter’s first patrol in the Spider-Man suit. Honestly, each night so far had felt like a test. A test of his abilities, his courage, his determination to protect. Every night he went out there, swinging through the city, keeping an eye out for trouble, doing what he could to help.

Whether it was stopping petty criminals or breaking up car thefts, it never really felt like he was doing enough. Peter was out again tonight, the orange glow of the setting sun began to cast long shadows over Queens,

He’d been on his regular routine swing across the neighborhood when a thick plume of black smoke caught his attention. The flames shooting out of a nearby apartment complex were clearly visible even from the rooftops. Peter’s heart skipped a beat. There were people trapped inside, he couldn’t just ignore it!

He’s practiced for weeks as Spider-Man now, he was ready.

He shot a web to a building that was directly behind the apartment that was burning, and swung swiftly toward the fire. He knew he wasn’t trained to deal with this type of thing yet, but he had to at least try. People needed him.

As he landed on the edge of the building, the first thing he noticed was the panicked crowd below. Fire engines hadn’t arrived yet, and the flames were spreading way too fast. The worst part? He could hear the sound of children crying coming from the third floor.

He darted through the smoke and started climbing up the fire escape. When he reached the window on the third floor, he could see the two kids, probably around eight and ten, staring out at him, their faces sweaty, their fear was obvious just by the way they looked at him. The younger one was crying.

“Hey, hey! It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you out of here,” Peter called, trying to reassure them, though his own heart was racing. The fire was getting too close for Peter’s liking now, and the air was growing thicker with smoke.

Without waiting for them to respond, he shot a web at the window, yanking it open. The kids stepped back as they felt the heat, wide-eyed but too scared to move. Peter carefully picked up the boy first, gripping him tightly. He told him to hold on and made his way back to the window, carefully webbing himself to the building to get some stability.

Once he had the boy secured in his arms, he reached for the girl, who was still hesitant. “Don’t worry, I won’t let go,” he promised. She took his hand, her small fingers clutching his tightly as he swung all three of them out of the building. The fire roared behind them as they soared through the air, heading toward the ground.

When Peter finally landed, he had to fight the urge to lay on the ground and take a nap. His heart was thumping painfully in his head as he gently set the two kids down, making sure they were both okay.

The crowd had gathered by now, watching with wide eyes as Peter pulled the kids into his arms. But what happened next was something he wasn’t prepared for. A woman, likely their mother, suddenly ran toward him, tears spilling down her face. She wrapped her arms around Peter, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Thank you, sir… Thank you so much,” she choked out, holding him as if he had just saved the world.

Peter froze, awkwardly patting her back. He hadn’t anticipated the emotions that came with this. Yes, he had saved these kids, but it felt more real now. The weight and responsibility that Spider-Man carried, the recognition, and the fact that people were looking to him for hope, it was strange, a little overwhelming.

Before he could pull away, a camera flash went off. Then another. And another. The crowd was snapping photos, the clicks of the cameras growing louder. Peter’s eyes widened. The last thing he wanted was to be on the news or to have more people learning about him. He wasn’t ready to be a public figure. He hadn't thought about this part when he decided to become a vigilante.

He quickly pulled away from the hug, stumbling back a few steps. The woman smiled through her tears, giving him one last grateful look. “Bless you, Spider-Man.” she said, before pulling her kids into a tight group hug.

The moment was over, but Peter was already swinging away, as fast as he could, disappearing into the shadows of the city. As he zipped between buildings, the sound of cameras still ringing in his ears, a sinking feeling settled in his gut. This was getting out of hand. He didn’t want people to look his way, he just wanted to help people. He hated the media attention.

-

The next morning at school, Peter couldn’t focus. His brain was buzzing with the images from last night. The fire, that lady’s hug, the cameras. The attention was suffocating.
He couldn’t escape it. Spider-Man was everywhere now. Today’s media was on him, and people at school had started talking. Everywhere he went, people were whispering through the hallways. Every time he passed someone, there were hushed comments.

“Did you hear Spider-Man saved two kids from the fire in Queens last night?”

“I can’t believe he’s been out there, protecting people. It’s so cool.”

Peter wished he could disappear into a wall right about now.

Instead, he found himself walking through the halls, trying to avoid everyone’s gaze and block out their conversations. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so lucky. Even his own best friend was excitedly talking about the new vigilante who just popped up out of nowhere.

Ned practically bounced up to him at lunch, practically vibrating with excitement. “Dude! You saw the news, right? Spider-Man is blowing up all over the place! He saved those kids last night from the fire! Everyone’s talking about it. Someone even created a vlog where they post about his sightings, and they have some number-scale-thingy showing how many lives he's saved!”

Peter just nodded, trying to keep his cool. “Yeah, I saw. It was… a lot.” he said, pushing his food around on his plate. His mind was not there. Everywhere he went, he felt like Spider-Man was looming over him, and not just because of the suit. The identity of it all, the exposure. Maybe he should just stop.

No, because that would mean no more helping people.

Ned was practically bursting with enthusiasm, his face glowing with admiration. “Man, Spider-Man is the best thing to happen to Queens in forever! Seriously, I feel like he’s gonna be the new superhero everyone looks up to. He’s, like, the protector of the queens now. Can you imagine him teaming up with the Avengers? Maybe he’ll join them, dude!”

Peter’s chest tightened, and his hands starting to get sweaty. “The Avengers? Wait, you mean like… actually part of the team?” His voice quieted slightly as he tried to mask the panic he was feeling.

Ned leaned forward, oblivious to the storm brewing inside Peter. “Yeah! I mean, that’s what everyone’s saying! He’s definitely got the skills. He could be a great addition to the team. He already saved those kids. Who knows what else he could do? Maybe Stark or captain America will recruit him. The guy’s all about adding people to his roster. Could you imagine Spider-Man working alongside Iron Man? That’d be insane!”

Yep... very insane. Like- he would never let that happen. Nope. Nada. Never.

Peter felt the weight of those words settle in his chest. Iron Man. Tony Stark. His father. The thought of being near Tony, working alongside him, and never being able to say anything about who he was. It would hurt too much to be that close, to be surrounded by the Avengers, and still have to hide who he was. It would feel like suffocating, like being forgotten all over again.

“Yeah, I mean… I guess, if that happens, it’d be cool.” Peter barely recognized his own voice as he spoke. He tried to force a smile but couldn’t quite pull it off.

Ned gave him a confused look but shrugged. “Yeah, well, whatever happens, I just think it’s awesome to have someone like Spider-Man looking after us. He’s the real deal.”

Peter’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. He didn’t feel like the real deal. He felt like a fake. A liar. And the more Spider-Man became a hero in people’s eyes, the more Peter felt like a shadow in his own life.

This was a bad idea.

-

That night, after the school day ended, Peter sat alone in his room. His Spider-Man suit was folded neatly on his chair, a piece of clothing thrown over it in case May or Ben walked in. He couldn’t bring himself to look at it. The weight of the day, the pressure, the fear of what might come next, all felt like it was too much. He just wanted everyone to forget about Spiderman.

Honestly, this wasn’t even that bad, he just wished he had someone to talk to. May or Ben were out of the question, they would make him stop as soon as they found out. Maybe Ned or MJ? No, not yet at least. They would freak out too.

He thought about the hug from that woman, how it had felt to be hugged so tightly. For a moment there, he wasn’t Spider-Man. And he wasn’t Peter Parker. He was just someone who had made a difference. But now, with the cameras and the news stories, he felt like the walls were closing in.

It wasn’t just about being Spider-Man. It was about the lie he was living, about keeping himself hidden, about pretending his family didn’t mean everything to him.

Maybe he’s just not cut out for this.

But then he looked at the suit again. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t turn back now. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much he wanted to avoid public attention, he couldn’t give up on people who needed him.

As long as he kept the mask on, Spider-Man and Peter Parker were not the same.

-

It had been a good day. A great day, actually. For the first time in a while, Peter had something to smile about.

He’d been awarded an academic prize at school. It wasn’t a big deal to the rest of the school, but to him, it was validation. He’d worked so hard, struggled so long to prove he wasn’t just 'The weird kid with a scholarship.' Today, Peter had achieved something that made him really proud.

May had been so proud of him, her eyes shining with the kind of love that told him that he was one of the most important people in her world. Ben had put an arm over Peter’s shoulder, grinning ear to ear as if Peter had just won gold in the Olympics.

They’d decided to go out to dinner at their favorite place, a small family-owned Thai restaurant down the block. The kind of place that served giant portions for cheap, and where everyone knew your name. They were going to celebrate. This was supposed to be a simple, happy evening.

-

The three were walking down the sidewalk, chatting about everything that had happened during each their chaotic days. Peter had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, his shoulders relaxed for the first time in days. It was cold outside, the crisp winter air biting at his cheeks, but there was a warmth to the evening at the same time. That's what he loved the most about fall. Everything felt warm.

“So, Pete, have any big school projects I should know about? Just so I can help you with your procrastination?” Ben joked, ruffling Peter’s hair.

Peter rolled his eyes, laughing. “I don’t think we have anymore huge ones before summer break comes around. Do you think I could take some college level classes during the summer? I’m so bored with my curriculum’s Science and Math levels.”

May chuckled beside him, shaking her head. “Peter, you go to a literal science school. If that’s too easy, you should just do actual collage online.”

Peter looked at her and responded, “I don’t want to leave Ned and MJ, plus I want to still experience high school, even if that means still having to deal with Flash.”

May smiled at her nephew and ruffled his hair. “Okay, when we get home, we can look into summer scholarship programs.” She paused, then playfully added, “You’re getting too tall. Stop that.”

Peter smiled and glanced at her, his heart swelling with affection for the two people who had made him feel like he actually belonged. He felt like he was finally going somewhere in life. Finally. Everything felt like it was clicking into place.

But of course, in just a split second, everything changed.

A figure appeared from the shadows at the end of the alley. Peter didn’t think much of it at first, it was just a man, maybe a little too scruffy, maybe a little too quick in his movements, but he looked like just a normal guy. Then the man stepped into their path.

Ben stopped first. Peter, too, immediately slowed down.

“Hey,” the man said, his voice low. “You’ve got any money?”

Peter instinctively reached for his wallet, thinking it was a mugging. It was late at night, after all, and this wasn’t the safest part of Queens. It could’ve been anyone. Usually if Peter was alone and he got mugged, he would make a game out of it. But he was with Ben and May.

Before Peter could open his wallet, the mugger reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. It glinted under the streetlight, the barrel cold and threatening. Peter’s heart felt like it dropped to his feet. His hands froze. He didn’t have his web shooters.

Ben took a step forward, instinctively moving to shield Peter. His voice was calm, almost too calm. “Hey, just take the wallet and go. No need for anyone to get hurt.”

Peter’s stomach churned. This was supposed to be just a threat. A mugging. A simple robbery. That kind of thing that happened in the city all the time. But the moment that gun was pointed at him, the world tilted, and time felt like it was slowed.

Peter’s breath quickened, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

But then, before Peter could even process what was happening, Ben took another step forward.

“No.” Ben’s voice was sharp. It was a command, not a suggestion.

May’s eyes widened as she tried to grab his arm. “Ben-“

The mugger’s hand shook for a moment. Ben had made him nervous. The man wasn’t ready for confrontation. But in that split second, Ben’s protective instinct kicked in. He lunged forward, faster than Peter could react seeing as he wasn’t expecting it, and tried to knock the gun out of the mugger’s hand.

The mugger’s eyes flashed with panic. In the chaos, the gun went off. The sound of the shot deafened Peter’s ears.

Peter heard it, felt it, even before he understood what was happening.

Ben froze, and then he crumpled to the ground.

May screamed.

Peter’s blood turned to ice as he turned to look at his uncle, his heart skipping a beat as Ben collapsed, blood already pooling where he was shot in the stomach.

“Ben! Nunonono!” May cried, dropping to her knees beside him.

Peter stood frozen for a moment, his brain struggling to understand the horror unfolding before him. No. No, this isn’t happening.

But reality didn’t stop for him. The pain, the shock, the fear. It was all defiantly real.

May reached for Ben’s chest, trying to apply pressure to the wound, but the blood kept flowing, too fast. Her hands were slick with it. Her face was pale, her lips trembling in disbelief and fear.

“Ben… No. This- No!” May gasped, her voice trembling with fear.

Peter’s mind raced, but his body wouldn’t respond. His whole body felt numb. His vision blurred. He couldn’t even breathe.

And then, in the midst of everything, the chaos, the panic, the pain, Peter’s world shattered even further.

May looked up at him, her face filled with terror. “Peter- get away! Run… run!”

But before Peter could move, the gunshot rang out again.

This time, it was for May.

She fell forward, collapsing in front of Ben. Blood pooled around them both.

Peter’s breath hitched. His entire body locked in place. His hands shook violently as he took a step back. His mind refused to process what was happening around him. The sounds, the reality, the pain.

May’s hand reached out weakly, trying to find Peter, but it fell short. She was gone. Her eyes faded, losing the light that had once made them sparkle. And Peter was left standing there, helpless.

He’d failed.

His biological family hadn’t wanted him. His parents with Mary and Richard, died. His aunt and uncle had taken him in, given him a family. And now they were gone, just like everyone else. Everyone he cared about either died or left him.

The mugger looked at him for a long moment, as though he were contemplating what to do next. He turned the gun towards Peter, and then he heard another shot from the gun. The bullet hit his shoulder, before the guy who shattered his entire world simply turned and fled, disappearing back into whatever shadows he came from.

-

Peter sat on the cold, hard sidewalk next to the bodies of his aunt and uncle. The blood around them was still fresh, and the night air was thick with the disgusting smell of gunpowder. He had barely moved, barely breathed, as his mind spun, trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

The mugger was long gone. The chaos had left him frozen, unable to even process the reality of the situation. They were gone. Gone... gone because of him. Gone because he froze. Gone because Ben had tried to save him. He's spiderman, He's the one who’s supposed to protect people, not the other way around.

With trembling hands, Peter reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. His fingers slipped on the screen, sweat and blood mixing together. His hands shook as he pressed the numbers.

“911. What’s your emergency?” A calm voice on the other end of the line responded.

Peter couldn’t speak for a moment, his throat felt tight. The world felt muffled, like he was underwater. Everything was really confusing right now. He forced the words out, barely above a whisper. “I- I need help. My aunt and uncle... they... they’re...” His voice cracked, his body shaking as he involuntarily let out a small sob as the weight of his own words hit him.

“Stay with me. Where are you? Are you hurt? We’re sending help now. Just hold on.”

Peter hung up without another word. He didn’t care. The line between life and death had already been crossed. The worst was already here. They would track the phone call anyway.

-

The ambulance ride had been a blur. Peter could feel the ache of his bullet wound, still bleeding, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. His body was exhausted from shock. Everything he loved in life had just shattered right in front of his eyes, and he had the means to stop it.

He barely noticed when they wheeled him into the ER, barely registered the bustling doctors and nurses who worked on him. All he could think about was his aunt and uncle. He couldn’t save them. He couldn’t do anything. He was supposed to protect them... He's supposed to be Spider-Man.

-

Hours passed as Peter sat quietly in a small recovery room. His mind swirled with confusion and numbness. When the door to his room opened again, Peter assumed it was another nurse or doctor coming to check on him, but instead he looked up to see two people, both of which professionally dressed.

A man and a woman, both in their thirties or forties, looked at him with professional concern.

“Peter Parker?” the man asked. His voice was quiet and kind, as if he was a wild animal who would dart if anyone said anything wrong, and honestly, maybe he would.

Peter didn’t say anything. He just stared at them, still trying to piece together everything that had happened. His aunt and uncle were dead. There was no one left.

“We’re from CPS.” the woman continued, her tone carefully neutral. “We need to know if you have anyone you can call, any family friends, another guardian perhaps? We just need someone who can take you in.”

Peter’s heart sunk for what felt like the millionth time that day.

Someone who can take you in.

He sort of stopped listening. It was like the words didn’t register. Like his ears wouldn’t let any noise in. He wasn't going to go through this. Not again. He was NOT going to another family.

Peter’s heartbeat quickened, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

“I don’t have anyone,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, a crack in it that he couldn’t control. He felt himself fighting for composure, but everything was happening too fast.

The woman glanced at her colleague, and the man nodded sympathetically. “We’ll make arrangements for you, Peter. You’re going to be safe. We’ll figure out the next steps.”
Safe?

Safe was the last thing he felt. The only thing he wanted, the only thing he couldn’t have. Safety.

The thought of going to another family, a FOURTH family, was more than his fragile composure could handle right now. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. He was done. He was done being tossed around, forgotten, abandoned. He couldn’t go through any more of it.

His thoughts moved faster than his body. Without thinking, without a single second of hesitation, Peter swung his legs off the bed, ignoring the sharp pain that radiated from his injured shoulder as he twisted.

“I’m leaving.” he muttered, more to himself than either of the CPS workers.

The man and woman were speaking to him now, but their shouts were distant. He didn’t care. Peter didn’t look back. He knew what was coming next. They were going to take him, and they were going to send him to another family. Another stranger who wouldn’t care about him. Who wouldn’t understand. If he went with them, the would be no more spiderman. No more midtown. He would probably be taken away from queens. His home. Ben and May’s home. He couldn’t do it.

With a great amount of effort, seeing as he had just come out of surgery for a bullet wound to the shoulder, Peter stumbled toward the window. He didn’t think. Didn’t stop to make sure no one would see him. His body felt weak, dizzy, but he was determined. He had to get out.

He had to get away.

The window slid open with a quiet screech. He climbed through it, one leg over the windowsill, then the next. Before anyone could stop him, he was gone.

-

Peter landed on the fire escape, his body thudding against the metal as he tumbled down onto it. The pain in his shoulder flared up again, but he ignored it, pushing through the discomfort. The world outside was still dark, the city noises muffled by the hospital walls that had once held him in.

He didn’t stop to think. Didn’t stop to listen. Didn’t stop for anything. He was running.

They won’t take me. They can’t take Spider-Man.

His enhanced healing had already started to close the wound, but it wasn’t even close to healed yet, and without proper care and medication, it would probably take even longer.
Whatever, it didn’t matter. He kept going. I’ll heal on my own. I can do this.

Peter hadn’t been alone in five years, but now more than ever, he was determined to stay that way. He knew how to care for himself. He would figure things out.

-

(Police and detective POV)

Officer Davis walked through the alley, the cold rain slicking the pavement beneath his boots. The bodies had already been cleared away. The victims, a man and a woman, had been left behind in what appeared to be a mugging gone wrong.

The scene looked straightforward. Nothing out of the ordinary. The victims had likely resisted, and things had escalated quickly. The wallet and purse were gone, the usual signs of mugging that had gone wrong.

But as Davis bent down to collect the blood samples, something nagged at the back of his mind. It was just his gut- he’d learned not to ignore it over the years. Something felt a little off, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Back at the station, Davis sat at his desk, the blood samples sitting in front of him. He slid one into the machine, ready for the usual analysis. He wasn’t expecting anything unusual. Just another case, another crime scene to sort through.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. It was from his partner, Officer Hayes: ‘You need to come down to the lab right now. This is urgent.’

Davis frowned, walking quickly to the lab. Hayes was standing next to the computer, his face drawn tight with concern with a hint of confusion.

“What's going on?” Davis asked, the unease he was feeling, creeping into his voice.

Hayes pointed to the screen. “I ran the blood sample from the alley. It- it doesn’t make any sense.”

Davis stepped closer, glancing at the monitor. The blood didn’t match either of the victims. Instead, it pulled up a missing persons report. He looked down at the name.

Missing Person: Noah A. Stark

Davis blinked, then exclaimed "Noah Stark!? You’ve got to be kidding me."

Hayes’s voice had a hint of irritation as he answered. “Yeah, no. I wouldn’t play around with this kind of thing, man.”

“Wait a minute,” Davis said, shaking his head. “Are you telling me that the missing Stark kid has been missing for 8 years with absolutely no leads, and now his blood is just randomly showing up at a crime scene?”

“Yes. I ran it through the system three separate times to be sure.” Hayes replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“How the hell is this possible?” Davis muttered, pacing the room. “How could he be here, at this scene? The bloods from him, but he’s supposed to be missing. Presumed dead. The teenager with them, the reports said that he was their nephew. How could that even be possible?”

“I don’t know,” Hayes said. “But it’s his blood. There’s no mistake.”

Davis’s thoughts were spinning. The more he thought about it, the more questions surfaced. “We need to report this ASAP.”

-

Chapter Text

It was a quiet late afternoon in the penthouse floor in the . The golden light of the setting sun filtered softly through the open floor plan of the kitchen. The strong smell of garlic, onions, and spices filled the air as Pepper stood beside the stove, stirring a pot of whatever was for dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple homemade dinner for the family.

She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of Tony sitting at the kitchen table. He was hunched over an unfinished piece of tech, working on a small circuit board. Pepper raised an eyebrow and let out a soft but dramatic exasperated sigh.

“Tony, really? The kitchen?” she said with a playful edge to her voice.

Tony looked up, his fingers still moving over the pieces of the circuit board, not even pausing for a second. “What? You said you wanted me here, and this is the only space with good lighting.”

Pepper rolled her eyes and gave a half-smile. “It’s dinner time, Tony. You’re not allowed to tinker in the kitchen. Not unless you’re making me food.”

He grinned, but didn’t respond, too focused on his work. Pepper shook her head, turning back to the stove to continue preparing dinner.

Across the living space, Morgan was sprawled out on the couch in the living room watching Lilo and Stitch. Her little giggles echoed into the kitchen every once in a while, and every time it made Pepper smile.

Harley was sitting across from Tony, was very concentrated on his book. His silence had become familiar over the years. He was just a quiet kid, choosing to listen instead of join in. He definitely did have his own moments of chaos though, and usually his energy would bubble up just when Tony and Pepper were trying to go to sleep. ‘why can’t you do this during the day?’ Tony would always ask, before covering his face with his pillow, as Harley tried to to talk his and Pepper’s ears off at 10:30 at night.

But right now, he was just sitting quietly reading, as if that hadn’t happened just the night before. His concentration in whatever he was reading, was so focused that he barely noticed the conversation in the kitchen at all.

The sudden ring of the phone broke through their chatter, its sharp tone pulling Pepper’s attention away from the stove. She glanced at Tony, who didn’t seem to react immediately. He remained hunched over the piece of tech.

“Do you want me to get that?” she asked, already reaching for the phone.

It wasn’t unusual for the phone to ring in their house, whether it be S.H.I.E.L.D., clients, media inquiries, or even just the avengers calling them to be annoying instead of just taking the elevator a few floors up.

Tony blinked, his gaze snapping toward her, but before he could respond, she flipped the screen over.

“Yeah, sure,” Tony muttered, clearly distracted, and Pepper grabbed the phone from the counter.

She read the caller ID. The Police? Why were they calling?

“Stark residence,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

There was a brief pause on the other end before a woman’s voice came through.

“Is this Pepper Potts?” the voice asked, steady and calm.

“Yes,” Pepper replied, glancing back at Tony, who had stopped his tinkering and was now watching her closely.

“This is Officer Collins with the NYPD. I’m calling about your son. We’ve located him.”

Pepper’s breath caught in her throat at the words. We’ve located him. For a second, she didn’t quite process it, her mind racing.

“Is this a prank?” she asked, trying to steady herself. She had cruel calls that started just like this, trying to get money out of her and her husband.

The officer didn’t sound amused. “No, ma’am. We’ve confirmed it through a DNA match. He’s alive. He’s at St. Luke’s Hospital right now. He’s under the name Peter Parker, but we’ve identified him as Noah Stark.”

Pepper’s heart pounded in her chest as the name Noah hit her. It had been so long. The son they had lost, the baby they’d never forgotten, never stopped looking for. But Peter Parker wasn’t the name they had given him. It was Noah. Their Noah.

She tried to keep her voice strong, but it was still uneven. “Is he... is he okay?” she asked, her mind running through all the worst possibilities. “What happened to him? Where has he been? Why is he at a hospital?”

There was a long pause before the officer’s voice softened. “He’s been through a lot. He’s in rough shape. He’s in the hospital right now, but we need you to come down here as soon as possible.”

Pepper’s hand tightened around the phone as her eyes flicked toward Tony, whose expression had gone pale. His lips parted as if he were trying to speak, but no words came out.
Their son had been found. Noah, Peter, whoever he was now- he had been found.

“I’m on my way,” she said, her voice shaking. She hung up the phone without waiting for a response and turned toward Tony.

He was still standing by the table, his gaze distant, his face pale. She could see the panic in his eyes as he slowly walked toward her.

“Tony,” she said, her voice softer now. “Noah’s alive. he’s at St. Luke’s.”

For a moment, Tony didn’t move. His eyes locked onto hers as if trying to process what she was saying.

“He’s alive?” Tony finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. His face twisted with confusion and disbelief. “How is that possible? Where has he been all this time?”

Pepper’s own mind was racing. Their son was alive. But the officer hadn’t given her many details. Just that he was at the hospital. And that he’d been through a lot.

Before she could say anything, Harley stood up from his seat, his face filled with concern. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, but his concern was clear. “Who’s at the hospital?”

Pepper opened her mouth to answer, but Morgan, still sitting in the living room, piped up first. “Is somebody hurt?” she asked, her little voice trembling with worry as she walked into the kitchen, clutching her stuffed bunny that she had gotten for Easter.

Tony barely registered Morgan’s presence at first. He was too focused on Pepper, his mind running at a thousand miles an hour. He looked at her, then back at the phone in her hand, trying to make sense of the rush of emotions. “Wait, Noah?” His voice cracked as he said the name, the name he hadn’t heard or used in years.

Pepper nodded, her throat tight. “It’s him. He’s alive, Tony. He’s been found.”

Morgan’s eyes widened in confusion. “Who?” she asked again, glancing between her parents. “Who’s found?”

“Noah.” Harley answered softly, crouching down to Morgan’s level and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Your brother. Noah. My twin.”

Morgan didn’t seem to understand, but the worry was starting to settle on her face. She turned to Tony, her eyes full of questions. “Is Noah coming to live with us?” she asked, her voice small.

Tony crouched down, meeting her gaze. “Yes, sweetie. We’re going to get him.” His voice was tight, but there was determination in it now. He stood and turned toward the door, taking a deep breath.

Pepper moved quickly, grabbing her coat and keys. “Let’s go,” she said, her voice firm. She couldn’t wait. They couldn’t waste any more time.

Harley handed his dad his jacket, his expression serious. “You good, Dad?”

Tony nodded, but it was obvious that everything had shifted. He wasn’t good. None of them were. But they were going to get their son. They were going to bring him home. Then maybe, just maybe, their family could be complete again for the first time in 8 years.

-

The drive from the police station to the hospital was a blur. Tony’s grip on the steering wheel almost painful. His mind was racing with questions, doubts, and what-ifs.

He barely noticed the scenery flying by, only the sensation of his foot pressing down harder on the gas pedal, focused on getting there as fast as possible, and as safely as possible. Pepper sat beside him, her face pale, her hand clenched tightly together in her lap.

“Please be okay. Please, let him be okay,” Pepper muttered under her breath, the words barely audible. Both of their thoughts felt like a jumble of worry, guilt, fear, and anger, all spiraling together.

Tony didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He shared her fear, her pain.

As they arrived at St. Luke’s Hospital, they were greeted by a pair of officers standing near the entrance, their expressions grim and almost apologetic.

Tony’s heart skipped a beat as they stepped out of the car.

“Officer Collins?” Tony asked, his voice tight with anxiety.

The officer nodded; her face drawn. “Mr. Stark. Mrs. Stark. I’m sorry, but we’ve just received an update.” She paused, as if struggling to find the right words. “We have some unfortunate news.”

Tony’s stomach turned over at the sight of her hesitation. “What do you mean? Where is he?”

“Peter is-” The officer hesitated again. “He’s not here.”

Tony froze. “What?” His voice raised, disbelief flashing across his face. “What do you mean, he’s not here?”

“Peter ran away, just before we contacted you. We didn’t know at the time, otherwise we wouldn’t have called yet.” Officer Collins said, her voice low and filled with sympathy. “He bolted when CPS came in to question him.” She paused, “Nobody had the chance to tell him that you were coming, we only got the DNA back last night. Before he ran he told them that he wasn’t going to a fourth family, then just jumped down onto the fire escape. We don’t know where he went.”

Tony felt his chest tighten, his breathing shallow. It felt like the ground had just been ripped from beneath him.

“You let him leave?” Tony’s voice rose with a fury he couldn’t contain. “You let him just walk away? After everything he’s been through, you let him run? What if he was hurt when he jumped?” He took a step toward the officer, anger seeping into every word.

Pepper placed a hand on his arm, her voice low but firm. “Tony, please-”

“No!” Tony snapped, shaking her off. “I’m not doing this again. We’ve been through hell for years, and now we finally find him, only for him to run away before he even knows that we were coming for him? How could you let that happen? How could you let a scared, traumatized kid just- just leave?”

The officer looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “We tried, Mr. Stark. We had officers stationed to keep an eye on him. We did everything we could, but... he’s scared. He doesn’t want to trust anyone. He’s going to be hiding.”

“Damn it!” Tony cursed under his breath, his hands shaking as he clenched his fists. “Where is he now? Or- where was he last seen? What are you doing about it?”

“We’re searching the area,” Officer Collins replied, her voice confidant. “We’ve put out an alert. He won’t get far, not in his condition. But... we can’t do anything more unless we find him.” The officer paused, glancing at her colleague before speaking again, her tone concerned. "There’s something else, Mr. Stark. Before he ran... Peter was shot in the shoulder. That’s how he ended up at the hospital. He had surgery to treat the wound, but we don’t have any medical records for him. We also don’t know about any medication he might need. We don't know how well he's healing, or if he's taken any steps to care for it since. Given the trauma he's experienced, it's incredibly important that we find him quickly. The longer he’s out there, the more at risk he is of effects of the surgery that we wouldn’t know about, or infection.”

Pepper’s breath caught in her throat, her hand flying to her mouth as the news sank in. Her eyes filled with tears, and she fought to keep them from spilling over. "He’s... he’s just a kid," she whispered, her voice broken. "Fresh out of surgery, and he’s alone. We have to find him. Now."

Tony’s chest tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His face darkened with anger. His son, his CHILD, had been shot. And now he was out there, with no way to treat the freshly sown up wound, no one to care for him. The anger bubbling in his stomach threatened to explode, but it was drowned out by an overwhelming sense of helplessness. “He’s not just out there, he’s hurt,” Tony muttered through gritted teeth. “And these people, who are supposed to be helping, are letting him stay out there, injured and alone. We need to find him. Now.”

Tony turned away, pacing a few steps, frustrated. Their son was out there somewhere, alone. Lost again. And no one could help him. They couldn’t even catch a break. After all this time, after all the waiting, they were still just... waiting.

Pepper stood silently behind him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, but she didn’t try to speak. She knew that words wouldn’t make this any easier. Tony was already spiraling. The situation was already broken beyond repair.

“This... this is all so wrong.” Tony muttered, his voice cracking. “He’s been through so much. And now we’ve just- just-” He ran a hand through his hair, looking completely defeated.

“We’ll find him,” Pepper said quietly, though her voice betrayed her own doubt. She stepped closer to Tony, her hand gently resting on his back. “We will. He’s out there, and we won’t stop looking.”

Tony didn’t respond. The idea of searching for Peter again, of hoping that he was still alive, still out there somewhere... it was suffocating. There were so many things that could happen.

-

By the time they returned home, it felt like the world had gone completely silent. The car was empty of conversation, the house was empty of laughter. All the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving only a heavy, hollow silence. Tony walked into the living room first, his shoulders slumped, his face pale. Pepper followed close behind, her eyes red from tears.

They didn’t have Noah. They had no clue where he was.

Morgan was sitting on the couch, her feet dangling, playing with her stuffed animals. She didn’t even notice them walk in.

But Harley did.

He had been sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through his phone, his eyes tired. When he saw his parents, he stood up, immediately noticing the way they were carrying themselves. The loss of hope in their eyes. The defeated look on their faces.

“He wasn’t there?” Harley asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he already knew.

Pepper shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

Tony swallowed and turned away to hide his face. He had to keep it together. For Harley. For Morgan. But the words were stuck.

Harley’s eyes flickered between his parents. “Where is he? Was it a trick?” he asked, his voice cracking halfway through the words.

Tony tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. His chest felt tight with emotion, and he couldn’t breathe.

"No baby, he ran before we got there." Pepper said, her voice going up and down emotionally as she talked.

Harley’s gaze faltered, his mouth trembling as the reality of the situation settled in. The hope he had clung to all these years just decided that now was the perfect time to shatter.

Without warning, Harley’s wall that he had built and painted calmness and braveness cracked. Tears spilled down his face, and he laid his head in his arms on the edge of the kitchen table, in attempts to hide his face. Silent sobs shook his shoulders.

Tony’s heart felt like it just shattered into a million pieces. His strong, capable son was crying, he felt just as, if not more broken than his parents, and Tony couldn’t do anything to fix it. He couldn’t make it better. Not yet at least.

Tony moved quickly, kneeling next to Harley, pulling him into his arms. Harley’s face pressed against his shoulder as his shoulders shook uncontrollably.

“I thought- I thought I was gonna see him again.” Harley whispered, his voice sounded so much younger than he was. “I thought he was gonna be here- with us.”

Tony squeezed him tighter, a tear of his own sliding down his face. “I know, kiddo. I know. I wanted that too. I thought we were so close.”

Pepper came over, rubbing Harley’s back gently, trying to comfort him the best she could. She looked at Tony, her eyes filled with an unspoken pain.

“I swear to you, Harley,” Tony whispered fiercely, his voice shaky but resolute. “We’re going to find him. We will. We’re not stopping. We’ll find Noah, I promise. We won’t let him slip away again.”

Harley pulled back just enough to look his father in the eye, his face wet with tears but with a spark of hope flickering behind the hurt.

“You promise?” he asked quietly.

Tony nodded, his voice stronger now, despite the tears burning in his own eyes. “I promise, Kid. We’re not stopping. We’re going to get him back.”

And in that moment, they had to believe him. They had to. He needed to believe himself. Thats all they could do.

Chapter Text

Tony Stark was never really the kind of guy to lose control. Everyone knew his as the guy who didn’t care about anything, too stuck in his own world to care. But in reality, he cared the most. That’s why he covered it up. People take advantage of the ones who show vulnerability.

Sure, he'd been through a few... well, more than a few disasters over the years, but losing his kids was always the worst one. He had gotten them back, except for Noah. And now, he was getting close. Noah, Peter, his son, his kid, the one he never got to raise.

This was a different kind of panic. The kind that doesn’t go away with a joke, a drink, or a shiny red and gold suit. Nope. This was the kind of problem that had Tony pacing his lab in the avenger’s tower like he was some kind of caged lion, he was just trying not to lose it.

It didn’t help that he was actively trying not to think about the hell Noah had been through. No, Tony was just focused on getting the kid back. Peter was out there somewhere. Alone. God only knew what kind of shape he was in.

"Friday?" Tony called, trying to sound more casual than he felt. "Run me through the locations we’ve already covered. I’ve already got all the Avengers out there looking for him, but I want to make sure we’re not missing anything. Can you run facial recognition in the areas that he was last seen?"

"Of course, boss. I’ve already warned the hospitals, shelters, and police stations within the city. I’ve also alerted all emergency services. The good news is that your son is very resourceful when it comes to avoiding detection."

"Great, just great. So, what you’re saying is, my kid is a Natasha-level escape artist now." Tony rubbed his temples. "How about we track his phone? Maybe his wallet? I don’t know. Let’s break out the tech, Fri."

There was a slight pause before Friday’s Irish accent came through the speakers. "I believe Mr. Parker has intentionally disabled all tracking devices and security features, as expected from someone with his particular skill set."

"Ah. Right. Because who needs a simple GPS when you can disable every piece of technology known to man?" Tony muttered to himself, hands twirling a mechanical pencil around as he tried to focus. "Well, what about the video footage from local stores? He’s gotta be using money or getting food somewhere, right?"

"I've already cross-referenced hours of footage, but it seems as though Mr. Parker has been... selective in his locations. I have found several instances of him near a convenience store in Queens, but there are no clear sightings beyond that."

Tony felt another flare of frustration. "Selective. Of course. This kid is like a damn ninja." He paused. "But wait. He’s gotta be using public transit or something?"

Friday’s voice remained calm and collected, which only seemed to make Tony even more irritated. "I’ve already processed subway and bus routes. It appears Mr. Parker is traveling in a very... random pattern. It is almost as though he is purposefully avoiding being tracked."

"Of course he is," Tony muttered. His thoughts were like a cat trying to chase a lazer. Chaotic and all over the place, each one more panicked than the last. "Alright, let’s step it up, Fri. I need every possible resource you’ve got. Call in some favors, hack some satellites, I don’t care. I’m not losing him again. I’m not-"

He stopped mid-sentence when a small voice broke into his thoughts.

"Tony?" Pepper’s voice was quieter than usual, but still unmistakably warm. She stood in the doorway, watching him with that one expression- a mixture of concern and love, but also that ‘I’m trying to keep you from self-destructing’ vibe that she seemed to have on her face a lot recently.

She was just as bad, just better at hiding it. That’s why Tony locked himself in the lab. He needed to find Noah, and he also couldn’t stay calm for his kids, which didn’t help anyone.

Tony ran a hand through his hair, exhausted. "Hey, Pep. I’m not... I’m just- I’m doing everything I can here. He’s smart, and he’s scared. I’m- ” He cut himself off, swallowing panic. He didn’t need to say it out loud, but the thought of Peter-Noah, whatever- being out there on his own, just made him feel sick. They were so close, they knew he was still in the city, so why couldn’t they find him? It’s like he just disappears whenever someone gets too close. It was incredibly frustrating.

Pepper stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you are, Tony. I know you’re doing everything you can. But you’ve gotta take a step back for a second. He’s scared. And I think he’s gonna need more than just technology to find him."

Tony’s chest tightened at the harsh message that her gentle words meant. It wasn’t just about finding him, it was about getting to him before he shut everyone out completely.
"I know. I- I just need to know he’s okay." Tony’s voice cracked, something that had become more common when he talked these past few days. "He’s just a kid. I should’ve been there for him. And now he’s out there somewhere, alone."

Pepper squeezed his shoulder gently. "You will find him. But you have to let him know he’s not alone, Tony. You’ve gotta find him before he makes himself believe it."
Tony sighed, nodding slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. He’s not alone."

He turned back to the computer screens. He was going to find his kid. He had to.

-

Harley got home from school to an empty penthouse. Dad was probably still in the lab; he made a mental note to bring him something to eat. Mom was usually still in the lower offices working around this time, and Morgan’s school didn’t get out until 4:00.

He made his way to his desk and sat down in his chair to start on homework, but his thoughts wouldn’t let him focus.

The last eight years of Harley’s life had been spent trying to forget his twin. He had been told that people would keep looking for Noah, but after this long, it was unlikely that they would find him. If he was even alive at all. Harley just had to believe that he was out there somewhere, safe. He also just had to forget about it. Hope hurt. His brother was one of the people who had been with him through all the chaos of their early lives before it all split apart.

He'd told himself that it was pointless to keep hoping. But now… now they were so close, and Harley couldn’t just sit there and not do anything to help.

Harley leaned back in his chair, staring at the computer screen in front of him. It had been days since the news that Noah was alive. And they knew he was out there, somewhere in the city. They had to find him.

His fingers danced across the keyboard, his eyes scanning the rows of files on Peter Parker.

Why couldn’t they just bring him home already?

But that wasn’t how things worked, was it? His parents couldn’t just snap their fingers and make it all right. There was no easy fix. That was the whole reason Harley had stayed silent for so long. He had felt the hole where his brother should have been. But now... now he was on the verge of being found. He couldn’t stop now.

He hacked into Peter’s files. It wasn’t hard. Not for him, at least. The Starks had some of the best tech in the world, but Harley was just smart. And good at hacking. There was no way his brother could’ve stayed under the radar for long. There had to be something.

A few clicks later, Harley found Peter’s records. Peter had been doing everything right. The kid was practically perfect at everything. He had a full scholarship to Mid-town High, a STEM school in the city, all kinds of awards piled on top of each other. Academic Decathlon team, Robotics Club, Science Fairs, The kid was already on his way to being something big, something great.

Harley scrolled through the pictures. There it was, his brother’s face.

It was his face. Or, more accurately, they had the same face. Peter had the same shape as his face, the same curly hair. It was like looking in a mirror, except… Peter’s eyes were brown. Not blue, like Harley’s. And his hair was darker than Harley’s sandy brown curls.

He zoomed in on the group photos. Team pictures, projects. The same dark-haired boy was always next to Peter. A bigger kid, who had darker skin. If Peter was in a picture, so was this kid. He saw one with them, smiling, his arm around Peter’s shoulder. In every picture. Then there was the girl, with wild hair and a grin that seemed to match Peter’s. She was in most of with them too.

Harley couldn’t stop digging.

In one of the pictures, all three of them, Peter, the boy, and the girl, stood together, arms wrapped around each other, holding some trophy. They were smiling like they had just won the world, their faces bright, they looked so happy. The image cut through Harley like a knife. Why hadn’t Peter ever come home? He was six when he was taken. He should have been able to remember, right?

His hands clenched into fists, but he forced himself to keep going, keep searching. His brother had a life. A life he wasn’t a part of, one he hadn’t even known about until just recently. He wanted to have a strong, twin relationship with his brother. It was just now though, that it actually seemed possible.

Harley couldn’t let go. He couldn’t. Not now that he was so close.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, searching for their names. Ned Leeds… That’s who the dark-haired boy was.

And the girl was Michelle Jones.

Ned and Michelle.

The screen blinked as the names appeared in front of him. He sat back in his chair, breathing heavily. He had his brother’s friend’s names. Maybe they knew something?

He wasn’t going to stop until he found Peter, no matter what it took.

He opened the school website again, and looked up the schedule. 2:45 is when the last bell of the day rings. He then got onto the schedule for robotics club and decathlon practice. Robotics is on Mondays and Wednesdays, ending at 4:30, and Decathlon was Tuesdays and Fridays, ending at 5.

Harley looked down at the bottom right of his screen to see that it was 4:13 right now, so if he hurried he could get to midtown by the time Decathlon practice ended.

He had some people to chat with.

-

It had been a strange week. They hadn’t heard from Peter since Monday right after the awards thing, and though they tried texting him, there had been no reply. Their messages hadn’t even been read. At first, they figured he was just being his usual busy self, but that went away when he hadn’t showed up for two days. He’d gone a full week without communication only a few months earlier, right after Oscorp, So they weren’t overly worried.

But now, after four days of silence, something just felt off.

Ned shifted uneasily as he gathered his stuff and put it into his backpack. Decathlon practice had just ended, and they were about to leave school for the day. He’d been trying to focus, really trying to pay attention, but all he could think about was Peter. He could tell MJ felt anxious about it too, her quiet glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, her distracted taps on the desk, the way she kept her phone screen open, waiting for a message from Peter that never came.
“You think we should swing by the Parker’s apartment after this?” Ned asked, glancing over at MJ as they made their way out of the now empty classroom.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like Peter to just disappear.” MJ’s voice held a hint of concern. “But then again, he’s done this kind of thing before.”

“Yeah, I mean… he’s been sick. Could be he’s just… be busy?”

MJ shrugged. “Maybe. But I still don’t like this. He’s not usually this quiet. And he didn’t even tell me about how the Academic awards went. He was so exited about it, he told me he would call me after and tell me how it went..”

Ned raised an eyebrow. “You think he’d tell you if something was wrong?”

“Knowing him? No. But I’d like to think he might’ve said something, if he trusted us enough to.” She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets, looking lost in thought.

Ned stopped walking. “You think maybe it’s family stuff?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m just starting to think something’s going on that he’s not telling us. Ever since he got sick, he’s been so flakey and nervous. He’s also changed a lot physically. I don’t know what could have happened.”

They were going down the main steps of the building when they both stopped abruptly.

A guy, about their age, was leaning against the wall of a building a few yards up the sidewalk from them. He was wearing a simple grey t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a white baseball cap that covered light brown hair. He wasn’t exactly standing still, but there was something strange about the way he was moving. Almost like he was waiting. Watching.
He turned towards them and started walking in their direction.

Ned was confused. Who was this guy? Why was he heading straight toward them? His hand instinctively went to his phone in his pocket, fingers brushing the screen. MJ was already scanning the street, eyes narrowed.

The guy came closer. As he got within a few feet of them, he stopped. For a moment, the world seemed to pause, like they were all frozen in time. And then the guy smiled politely at them. Wait, that was Harley Stark. Why was Harley Stark standing in front of them?

“Hi.” he said, his voice soft, yet firm. “Are you two friends with Peter?”

Ned’s stomach dropped. Peter?

He glanced at MJ, who looked just as confused. “Uh… yeah, we’re- uh, we’re his friends,” Ned stammered. “Why do you ask?”

The guy smiled again. His expression seemed oddly… relieved? “Right. Okay. I’m Harley. And… well, I’m Peter’s biological twin brother.”

Well that was very straight to the point.

Ned blinked. “What?”

MJ crossed her arms, her expression unreadable but her eyes skeptical. “Wait. Peter’s twin? Peter’s not a Stark. His last name is Parker. His parents died when he was nine. He’s been living with his aunt and uncle. Why should we believe you? I mean, even though he looks like you, that’s still a huge accusation.”

Harley nodded, as if this was perfectly normal. “Yeah. I know this is… a lot to believe. But I need your help. Peter’s been missing from my family for eight years. We’ve been looking for him for a long time. We-” He stopped himself, glancing around as if making sure no one was eavesdropping. “We just found out that he’s alive. I need to know if you’ve seen him recently. Has he been around?”

“Wait, so Peter’s… your brother? He’s Noah Stark?” Ned repeated, feeling his brain was struggling to catch up. "But, I mean… I thought-"

“Yeah, I know. It’s a long story.” Harley exhaled, taking the hat off and scratching his head, before putting it back. “Look, I didn’t expect you guys to be the first ones I’d run to, but people won’t let me do anything. And I can’t just sit there and wait for someone else to bring him home, and not do anything to help. If you’ve seen him, I really need to know. Has he shown up at school? At your place?”

Ned somehow already calmed down and was exited. "I always thought there was a resemblance!"

Mj pinched Ned on the arm. "Ow! What was that for!?"

MJ shook her head, eyes narrowing. “You’re telling us Peter’s been gone all this time… but you’re just showing up now?”

Harley held up his hands, a slight smile on his face as if trying to ease the tension. “I know it’s a lot. Trust me, I’m still processing this too. But Peter’s been through some really messed up stuff. We’ve been trying to track him down since we found out he was alive on Monday night. He’s scared. I just need to talk to him. And… if you can tell me anything about where he’s been, or if he’s visited either of your houses, I’d really appreciate it.”

MJ’s eyes softened for just a second, but then she stood straighter, her arms still crossed tightly. “We haven’t seen him in days. And he’s been distant lately. But I’ll let you know if he shows up.”

Ned nodded. “I’ll do the same. But I’m still confused. What happened to him?”

Harley hesitated, then sighed heavily. He looked exhausted.

“I know that Peter has been staying with May and Ben Parker. After they died, he ran away from the hospital. He didn’t want to go to another family, and I don’t blame him. But that’s why I’m here now. I’ve been trying to find him ever since. I just need to know if he’s okay. If you’ve seen him.”

“May and Ben are dead?!” Ned yelped, then lowered his voice.

Harley looked at him and replied, “Yeah. A mugging. That’s how we found out who he was in the first place. His blood was flagged when they put it through the system.”

Ned’s stomach twisted with anxiety for his best friend. He couldn’t imagine what it must have be like for Peter right now. First losing his parents and now losing May and Ben too. He glanced over at MJ, who remained quiet.

“I’m sorry about May and Ben.” MJ said softly. “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for Peter.”

Harley gave her a small smile, his voice was sad as he responded, “Yeah… me neither.”

Ned opened his mouth to ask more, but MJ cut him off. “And you said Peter was in the hospital? Why?”

Harley’s face twisted at the question. “Yeah. He got shot in the shoulder. Had surgery. He ran away when CPS came to question him a few hours after.”

“Where is he now?” Ned asked.

Harley shook his head. “That’s the thing. We don’t know. But if you guys hear from him… if he shows up at either of your places, will you let me know? I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him home.”

“We’ll help.” MJ said, nodding once. “We’ll keep an eye out, let you know if anything happens or if he shows up to one of our houses.”

“Thanks.” Harley said, his voice sounded full of emotions. “I just need to know he’s safe.”

-

Tony sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the holographic display of his latest search results. He’d barely slept. It had been six days since the phone call, six days since he found out his son was alive. And yet, despite all the resources at his disposal, his kid was still out there somewhere, alone.

Harley walked into the room and sat across from him, arms crossed, staring at the map Tony had pulled up. "Still nothing?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Tony sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. "No. Not yet."

Pepper walked in with her tablet, setting it down in front of them. "I've been thinking… when we do find him, what do we call him?"

Tony blinked. "What do you mean?"

Pepper gave him a look. "Tony. He's been Peter Parker for almost eight years."

He hadn’t let himself think about it too much. Not the details, not how much his son’s life had changed. He had been so focused on finding him that he hadn’t let himself consider what came after.

Harley, who had been quiet, finally spoke. "Yeah, I mean… do we just call him Noah and expect him to answer? ‘Cause that’d be weird. He’s been Peter longer than he was ever Noah."

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it again.

They had a point.

Pepper gave Tony a small, gentle smile. "I know it’s hard. But if Peter- Noah- our kid has spent the last eight years as Peter Parker, I don’t think we should just… take that from him. It’s normal to him."

Tony sighed. "You’re right." He hated how reluctant he sounded, but it wasn’t because he disagreed. It was because it hurt. Because every day since he lost his son, he’d imagined getting him back exactly as he was. Six years old. Running into his arms. Calling him ‘Dad.’ But that wasn’t reality. The reality was that Peter had a whole life they hadn’t been a part of. And if they wanted him back, they had to respect that.

"If he wants to be Peter," Tony said, quieter this time, "then we call him Peter."

Harley nodded. "And if he ever decides he wants to be Noah again, that’s up to him."

He got nods or agreement as a response.

There was a long silence between them. Then Pepper put a hand over Tony’s. "We just need to make sure he knows he has a choice. That whatever name he goes by, he’s still our son."

Tony swallowed and nodded. A name wasn’t a big deal compared to the eight years he’s been missing. "Yeah," he murmured. "Yeah, we will."

"I'll talk to Morgan about it." Pepper said, turning to start on dinner.

  -

Two days had passed since Ned and MJ had spoken with Harley. Two days of wondering where Peter was, what was going on with him, and whether they’d see him again.

For the most part, life continued on as usual for Ned. School, extra-circulars, homework. He’d tried his best to keep up with his work and stay distracted from the anxious feeling in his stomach whenever he thought about where his best friend might be.

Ned said goodbye to his Lola, before leaving his apartment building.

He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to focus on the rhythm of his feet against the sidewalk as he walked to school.

But as he passed Delmar’s, the small family-run sandwich place he’d walked by hundreds of times, something caught his eye through the window.

Ned’s breath caught in his chest.

There, sitting at a booth by the window, was Peter.

Ned hadn’t seen him in almost a week, and now there he was, looking like everything was normal in the world as he ate a sandwich, flipping through a second-hand book.

Ned felt his heart rate spike, adrenaline flooding his system. This wasn’t happening. Was Peter really here? He could hardly believe it.

His fingers fumbled for the phone in his pocket, and without thinking, he dialed the number Harley had given him just two days ago. His heart was pounding in his ears as the phone rang.

Come on. Come on.

When Harley picked up, his voice was sharp, but there was a note of hope there. “Ned? Is everything okay?”

“I think I found him,” Ned said, glancing through the shop window to make sure Peter hadn’t disappeared. “He’s at Delmar’s, sitting at a booth. I don’t know if he’s… I don’t know if he’s going to leave anytime soon, but he’s here.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then Harley spoke again, his voice calm but urgent. “Stay there. Don’t let him leave.” And then the call ended.

Ned nodded to himself, even though Harley couldn’t see him. His stomach twisted in knots. Peter was right there, and someone was on their way.

With shaky hands, Ned pushed the door open and stepped inside the sandwich place. He spotted Peter immediately. He was still oblivious, lost in his book. His legs carried him to the booth without hesitation.

Peter didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in his reading. Ned took a deep breath and slid into the seat across from him.

The movement caught Peter’s attention, and he finally looked up, blinking in surprise.

“Peter,” Ned said, his voice thick with both relief and confusion. There was also the faintest trace of anger. “What the hell is going on? What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

Peter froze for a moment, his eyes widening as he realized that his best friend was sitting across from him. The shock was clear on his face.

“Uh... Ned?” Peter’s voice was quiet but panicked. “What are you doing here?”

Ned couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What was he doing here? He was about to ask Peter a million questions, but he needed answers first. “I could ask you the same thing! You’ve been gone for days, and now you’re just sitting here like nothing happened. Where have you been? Are you safe? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

Peter shifted uneasily, not meeting his eyes. “I-I… Uh… I’m-”

Before he could stutter anything else out, a heavy clang of metal against the sidewalk echoed through the shop, and a shadow fell across the window. Ned froze. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Outside the shop, standing next to the entrance, was literally Tony Stark.

Tony stopped just outside, disengaging the suit with practiced ease. The unmistakable sound of the suit’s repulsors powered down, and Tony stood there, Looking around desperately.

Peter’s face went pale. He froze, eyes locking onto his father as Tony looked through the window, gaze clearly searching. He quickly ducked behind the booth before he turned back to Ned, his eyes wide with disbelief, his lips parting slightly.

“Did you-” His voice cracked. “Why- why would you do that?”

Ned blinked, stunned by Peter’s reaction. “What do you mean?”

Peter’s eyes were wide, and his lips parted as if trying to figure out how to speak english, but he managed to stutter out a few words. “You- you called him?”

The hurt in Peter’s expression was clear, like something deeper had just been shattered in him.

Ned’s stomach twisted. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t known it would hurt Peter like this.

“Peter, I was just trying to help-”

Peter held up a hand, cutting him off. The pain in his eyes was too much to bear. “Did you really think that’s what I wanted? You have no idea what’s been going on, and now you just… you just call him?” His voice cracked, and he looked away, clearly torn between anger and something else softer, like betrayal. “Why? You don’t even know what’s happened… what I’ve been through.”

Ned swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Peter’s stare like a physical punch to the stomach. His heart pounded in his chest. “I didn’t think- ” His voice faltered. He didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

Peter just shook his head, refusing to meet his eyes again. His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists on the table. "You... you really didn’t think about how this would affect me. Did you?"

Ned’s throat tightened. “I- Peter, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You can’t keep running, you’re only 15. You can’t handle yourself out here on your own yet.”

Peter’s expression was hard now the look he gave Ned was filled with betrayal. "I don't need you to make decisions for me. You just completely broke my trust. Your supposed to be my friend.”

The words stung. Ned opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. He glanced at Peter one last time, but it was clear, nothing was going to be the same after this.
Peter was looking around the room, clearly trying to find an escape.

Chapter Text

Peter’s feet hit the pavement with a quiet thud, the sound muffled by the chaos swirling inside his head. The city around him was as loud as ever, but it all felt distant, like it was happening on the other side of some glass wall.

He couldn’t focus on anything other than the sudden rush of adrenaline and the clawing feeling in his chest. His world had just shattered into pieces, and there was only one thing he knew for certain right now. He couldn’t stay in that hospital.

He couldn’t stay anywhere. Not anymore. He refused to go to a fourth family.

He hadn’t been able to breathe in that sterile hospital room. The walls, the doctors, the questions, they all felt like they were four walls, closing in on him. The moment those CPS agents showed up, the second he saw them step into the room with their clipboard and that look on their faces, he knew what was coming. He wasn’t going to be sent to another home. Not again. Not after everything he’d already been through. He was done. He could handle himself.

So, when the door had opened and the agents had stepped inside, he had just… run.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even logical. But when your entire life has been one big mess of things you couldn’t control, running basically felt like the only thing left to do.

Peter had been on the streets for a week now, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was already starting to get used to it. The constant vigilance, having nowhere safe to sleep, the exhaustion, all of it. He'd learned to push down the fear, to ignore the ache in his back after sleeping on hard concrete. Because there was no other option.

-

The first day after he bolted from the hospital, he had made his way to the only place that felt like home to him. The Parker apartment. It was the last place he’d known he was safe. It felt like so long ago, but in reality in had been occupied by May, Ben and him. But now they were gone. Gone in the way that meant their lives were over, taken in a senseless mugging that he could have prevented. They were never coming back.

He had no plan, no sense of direction, but he had to get to their apartment. He had to pack what little he could, grab something that would tie him to the people he loved, the people who had taught him how to live again after everything had fallen apart, as well as the essentials.

The apartment was quiet when he arrived. No sound of May coming to give him a warm hug, no sound of Ben’s laughter and playful teasing. Just the hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the old clock on the wall. He didn’t want to be there. Didn’t want to face emptiness. But he had no choice.

The place was small, the same beige walls, the same worn couch, the same pile of books Ben had never gotten around to reading. The air was thick with the absence of the people he had relied on for the past six years, the people who had made him feel like he belonged.

As he moved through the apartment, he took in every detail. It wasn’t home anymore. His home was wherever May and Ben were, and now they were gone. He couldn’t stay here.

Not only because he couldn’t afford the rent of his own, nor would that be legal, but also because people would be coming here soon. He needed to get his stuff and go.

He moved toward his room, taking a quick look at the bed and the corner where his second hand books that he loved so much still sat, collecting dust. His gaze wandered to the dresser where he kept his school supplies, the textbooks, the cup of pens, the notebooks. His life had once been so normal; at least, when May and Ben were around. But now, it felt like everything was slipping through his fingers.

He had to leave, though. There was no other option. And he wasn’t going back to the hospital. Or to any strange people’s house. He didn’t want to be sent to another family, another place where everything would fall apart. Where he would become just another foster kid.

Peter’s hand shook slightly as he pulled open his dresser drawer. He grabbed a small stack of clothes. Two T-shirts, a pair of jeans, a pair of sweatpants, and a hoodie. Things that would fit in his bag. He shoved them into the backpack, trying not to think about how this wasn’t just about packing for survival, it was packing for the unknown. It was about abandoning everything he knows.

The last thing he grabbed was the picture of May and Ben. It was a picture of all three of them, standing on top of a mountain in Upstate New York, smiling as the sun shone high behind them. It had been one of those trips Ben brought him on, where Peter felt like he could breathe. That time they had dragged May along with them. That was the memory he had left, the one thing that proved there had been love, even if it had been short-lived.

He pulled the picture from its frame and tucked it into the side pocket of his backpack. His throat tightened, but he didn’t let himself cry. He didn’t have time for that.

His next move was automatic. The school supplies. He didn’t need the books or notebooks anymore. They would just weigh him down. So, he emptied out the contents of his backpack onto the bed, leaving only a pen, a book, and a notepad. It felt almost absurd to leave all that behind. But there was no room. Everything had to fit in his bag, or it wasn’t coming with him.

Peter swallowed hard as he looked at the empty backpack, at the essentials- his phone, the charger, the money. $376. That was all he had. He had worked for it, doing small jobs around the apartment building. Helping Mrs. Jacobson with groceries, walking the neighbor’s dog, fixing the kids’ bikes. All of that for a few hundred dollars. And it was all he had now.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But it was all he had. He needed to find a job as soon as possible. That would be hard though, without any form of identification- those were thoughts for another time. Right now, he needed to focus on getting what he needed and going.

He sat for a moment, staring at the empty space in front of him. For a second, he thought about everything that had happened in the past 48 hours. The grief, the fear, the uncertainty. He wanted to scream, to punch something. But he couldn’t afford to be weak. He had to keep moving.

He didn’t know what was out there, didn’t know where he would go or how long he could keep this up. But he couldn’t go back. Not to the hospital. A foster family. Not to more questions, more systems that would just break him again.

With a deep breath, Peter stood up and pulled his Spider-Man suit out from under his bed. It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d first put it on, that he had sworn to protect the city and his loved ones. He couldn’t protect anyone anymore. Not even himself.

But it was all he had left.

Slipping into the suit felt familiar, like slipping into a second skin. It was both comforting and suffocating all at once. As soon as the mask went on, everything changed. He wasn’t Peter Parker anymore. He was Spider-Man. He was someone who could disappear into the city, someone who could blend into the shadows and run.

Once the suit was on, he threw his backpack over his shoulder and moved toward the window. The street outside was bustling, alive with the noise of New York, and he felt small against the City. He didn’t have time to be afraid. There were no guarantees. Well, only one. He was on his own now.

He didn’t look back.

Peter opened the window, scanning the street below, and swung into the night, letting the wind whip past his face. The buildings around him blurred as he soared through the city, trying to outrun everything—his past, his fears, his pain.

For now, it was just him. Alone.

-

The pain had started to dull, but it definitely didn’t make it go away.

Three days had passed since Peter ran from the hospital, and in that time, his gunshot wound had gotten worse. The stitches, once clean and tight, were now beginning to show signs of infection.

He could feel the hot, searing ache creeping down his arm, a dull pulse of discomfort that throbbed with every movement. But he couldn’t stop. People needed Spider-Man.

Peter had never been good at sitting still, especially when it came to his own suffering. It was easier to just ignore it, to bury the pain under adrenaline.

Easier to swing through the city at night, letting the wind rush past him, losing himself in the thrill of the chase. But today, the infection started getting worse, the dull pain
gnawed at him relentlessly. His healing factor wasn’t kicking in like it should have, and that was concerning.

The small pharmacy he’d found was tucked away in the corner of a dingy street, its neon sign flickering sporadically, casting a creepy red glow over the sidewalk. Peter had been skeptical at first. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind of antibiotics to buy, and he didn’t have the luxury of a doctor or a medical kit. But he knew enough to pick something that claimed to work on infections. He had been too stubborn to go to a clinic or ask anyone for help. That would have meant getting caught. That would have meant going to a fourth family. And Peter wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be.

Inside the store, the shelves were stacked with medicine and convenience items, the air smelled of dust and chemicals. He grabbed the cheapest bottle of antibiotics he could find, despite knowing that they probably wouldn’t do much. There was no guarantee they would work, but he didn’t have a choice. He was running out of options.

The money he’d saved from doing odd jobs was starting to slip away faster than he’d hoped. He’d used some to buy food, the rest on the antibiotics. But as he swallowed the medicine with some water, his stomach churned at the thought of how much longer it would last. A few days, maybe? Then what?

Peter wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on like this. If he didn’t have an infection, he’d he confident. But he did, and it was starting to make him feel sick.

Peter sat against the brick wall of the alleyway outside the pharmacy, his back pressed to the cold concrete. He could feel the sweat on his forehead, the fever rising in his body, but he shoved the discomfort aside. Focus on something else.

His thoughts turned to May and Ben. The emptiness in his chest ached with every memory of their laughter, their kindness, their love and support. It felt like forever ago since he’d heard May’s voice, since Ben had teased him about his latest homework procrastination.

They were gone. They were gone because of some random act of violence, and he couldn’t let it happen to anyone else. He shouldn’t have let it happen to them.

It was all he could think about in the quiet moments, when he wasn’t swinging between skyscrapers or hiding in the shadows. He needed to make sure no one else felt the pain he felt. No one else would have to lose the people they love. He would do his best to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves.

It wasn’t just about protecting people from bad guys in masks or stopping bank robberies. It was about preventing loss. Preventing grief. It was about helping those who couldn’t help themselves, the ones who were caught in the crossfire, the ones who didn’t have someone to lean on. Because if he didn’t, who would?

Peter let out a long breath, the weight of that thought sinking in. He had been running, sure. But he had also been running toward something. Toward a purpose that felt more important than anything else.

His mind, clouded by fever and pain, kept circling back to one thing: He had to keep going. There was no going back. There was no retreat. If being Spider-Man was the only thing left in his life, then it would have to be enough.

No matter how much pain he was in.

He stood up slowly, his legs shaky, and swung his backpack back over his shoulder. The infection in his shoulder was spreading fast now. There was a dull ache that flared up whenever he moved. But he couldn’t let it stop him.

He couldn’t give up now. There were people who needed him. There were people who needed someone to protect them, someone to stop them from falling through the cracks.
Peter adjusted his hoodie, making sure it covered his suit. He was Spider-Man- always Spider-Man, no matter what.

With a final glance at the small pharmacy behind him, he started to move. His steps were slow at first, the pain in his shoulder making it difficult to ignore. The antibiotics, if they worked at all, would take time. But he didn’t have the luxury of time.

He had to be out there. He had to help.

The city never stopped, and neither would he.

Swinging up onto the fire escape, Peter pulled his mask over his face, feeling the familiar weight of it settle around his head. The world shifted, and his mind sharpened as adrenaline kicked in.

With a sharp breath, he leaped into the air, pushing off the building. The wound in his shoulder screamed at him, telling him to stop moving, but he pushed through it, letting the air rush past him as he soared between buildings. The city stretched out beneath him, an endless maze of streets, alleyways, and rooftops.

He wasn’t going to stop. Not for the pain. Not for anything.

Because if he didn’t keep going, then what? What would all of this be for? May and Ben had died because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Peter couldn’t change that. But he could make up for his lack of action that night. He could stop it from happening to someone else.

-

It had been six days since Peter had run away from the hospital, and 3 days since he had found his rooftop. He’d found it by accident during patrol. It was the rooftop of a small building, with no roof access. It almost felt like it was built just for him. Nestled between two taller buildings.

It was quiet up there. Shielded from the chaos of the street below and the eyes of anyone who might be looking for a place to land. (Or free supplies from his backpack) It was perfect. No one could reach it unless they knew exactly where to look, and Peter had made sure that nobody would think to look. Nobody could reach it unless they had sticky powers, or a tall enough ladder.

The rooftop was mostly flat, with a small ridge on one side, just high enough to keep him hidden from the street below but still low enough that he could see everything. The first time he’d gotten up there, he’d been nervous about getting spotted by a passing cop or some curious person on the sidewalk, but there was nothing to get up to it, no fire escapes or ladders leading up, which made it perfect. The only way up was a narrow gap between the two buildings, a place he had easily slipped through by jumping from one rooftop to another.

It wasn’t much, but it was home, at least for now. Hopefully he could find a job and an actual place to stay. You know, with a door and a lock? Possibly a heating and air conditioning unit?

Peter had carefully arranged his little corner. He had a small stash of essentials: crackers, cans of soup from the dollar store, a fuzzy blanket he’d picked up from the thrift shop a few blocks away, and of course, his backpack. He made sure to always know where it was. If he wasn’t using it as a pillow to sleep, it was tucked in the corner of the rooftop under some leaves, so that if anyone did somehow uncover his space while he was on patrol, it would be hidden.

He didn’t sleep long at a time. His senses were always alert. Every sound felt louder up here, the distant hum of the city, the occasional blare of a horn or shout from the street below.

The blanket he’d found was one of the softest things he’d felt in a while. A bit faded, worn at the edges, but it was warm, and that was all that mattered. Every night, he’d pull it up around him, curling his body into a ball as he laid his head on his backpack. He was still looking for a job. His savings wouldn’t last long, even if he stretched every dollar.

-

During the day, when the sun was high and the city was in full swing, Peter would head out on patrol. His shoulder still ached, the infection throbbing with his heartbeat, but it didn’t stop him. It was all he could do to keep moving. He couldn’t just not be Spider-Man. There were always people who needed help, always someone who needed him to do something, even if it was as small as stopping a purse snatcher or chasing down a thief.

His body begged for rest, but his mind, his sense of duty and responsibility, his need to do something to make up for everything that had happened was what pushed him forward.

Sometimes he would get a real meal. He knew he couldn’t survive on crackers and canned food forever, even though it was cheaper, even though it was what he could afford.

Every other day, if he was lucky, he would find a food place, something cheap like a corner deli or a food truck and grab something that actually had nutritional value.

His go-to was always the bodega around the corner from where May and Ben’s apartment was. It was nice to talk to someone he knew, Mr. Delmar didn’t seem to know that Peter was missing, and if he did, he never mentioned it.

Every once in a while Mr. Delmar would give him an extra sandwich along with the one he ordered, saying that he made an extra.

for an online order earlier that day, or just not say anything at all. Peter appreciated the extra food, so he never really said anything or argued.

-

On his way to and from patrols, he would stop by the dollar store. He’d learned the store, what the best canned foods were, and which aisle had the most filling snacks for the lowest price.

It wasn’t glamorous. But it was efficient. He’d grab a couple of cans of beans or chili, a pack of crackers, maybe some canned fruit.

It would just have to do.

-

Peter woke up feeling like garbage.

The moment his eyes cracked open, he felt dizzy. The ache in his shoulder was sharper today, as if the infection had decided to throw a tantrum. His vision fluttered for a moment, black spots dancing around.

He felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. His head hurt, and the hunger he had been feeling for the past week gnawed at him, the kind of hunger that wasn’t just from missing a meal, but the kind that left him feeling weak and disoriented. He wasn’t eating enough, and his metabolism is kicking him for it.

Well that’s not good.

He dragged himself into a sitting position and rested a hand on his forehead. His healing factor was supposed to be faster than this. He had healed from worse injuries than this before, and they had all healed within a few hours.

Two days at the most. That’s how long it took to heal from his worst injuries. But the infection was holding his healing factor back. It wasn’t just the pain in his shoulder, it was the fact that he could feel his body betraying him, sluggish, refusing to heal the way it should.

He needed food. Real food, something with actual nutritional value. Maybe it would kickstart his healing process? His stomach growled in agreement, protesting the crackers and canned soup he’d been living off the last few days. Yep, he definitely needed something that would help him not feel so much like a walking zombie.

Peter stuffed his backpack into its hiding place after he grabbed a second hand book he’d picked up from a thrift store a couple of days ago.

With his stuff packed, Peter slung the backpack over his shoulder and slipped out of his hidden corner on the rooftop, taking the familiar route down to the street. The air was cold, but it didn’t bother him as much today. He was focused on the idea of a warm sandwich, something that could bring him back to life and settle his hole-of-a-stomach metabolism. Even if just for a few hours.

The bodega was just a few blocks away, and as he walked in, he was greeted by the smell of fresh bread and sizzling deli meats.

This was his favorite place to study before everything had happened. There was everything a teenager could want, a cozy booth by the window. Free refills on soda. Heating that made the space feel like a little haven in the middle of his life of chaos. Plus there was a T.V. in the corner, always playing random stuff. He liked the background noise. Plus there was Murph.

And Mr. Delmar.

Mr. Delmar was a middle-aged man with snarky comments a kind smile. He was always there, ready to make Peter his usual, a number five, extra pickles smushed down flat. Peter had been coming here for years, long before everything had gone sideways. It was one of the few places he felt comfortable, where he could be just Peter, and not Spider-Man.

“Ah, Mr Parker!” Mr. Delmar greeted him with his usual enthusiasm as he stepped behind the counter. “You’re looking a little pale today. Everything okay?”

Peter gave him a smile, opening his eyes wider and trying to look more attentive. “Yep, I’m fine, Mr. Delmar. Just, uh, didn’t sleep well, y’know?” He tried to sound casual. He could already feel the dizziness creeping up again, making him lean slightly against the counter.

Mr. Delmar raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You sure? You don’t look fine. You look like you haven’t slept in a week. Maybe you need something more than just the sandwich, huh?”

Peter was surprised at how close to the truth that was. He shook his head, trying to keep the conversation light. “Nah, I’m good. Just need to eat. I’ll be fine after I’ve got a real meal in me.”

The older man studied him for a moment, the concern still on his face. He had always been kind to Peter, offering small talks about school, and his teenager life. He wasn’t the type to pry too much, but he wasn’t blind either. Mr. Delmar had seen the way Peter winced when he moved too fast, or how when he thought nobody was looking, he had a pinched pained look on his face. He wasn’t dumb. He knew there was more going on than what Peter let on.

But instead of pushing him further, Mr. Delmar simply nodded, a knowing look passing between them. “Alright, boy. You sit down. I’ll take care of the cost today.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Mr. Delmar was already grabbing a second sandwich, slipping it onto a plate and pushing it toward him with a smile. “On the house. You look like you could use it.”

Peter froze for a moment, feeling warmth spread through him. He hadn’t expected this. He knew he didn’t deserve it, not when he was trying to keep his distance from everyone he still had left, who still cared about him.

He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he nodded, his voice a little quieter than usual. “Thanks, Mr. Delmar.”

“No need for thanks,” the man said, waving him off. “Just make sure you take care of yourself, Peter. We don’t want to see you running around sick now.”

Peter gave him a small, appreciative smile, then took his second sandwich, walking toward the booth by the window. The place was relatively quiet this early in the day, and the comforting hum of the small diner filled the air as he slid into the booth and settled in.

He unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. He tried savor it. It was like his stomach was finally starting to feel the relief he had been searching for. The warmth of the food spread through him, and for a moment, things almost felt normal again.

He opened his book to the first page, trying to focus on the story. The words didn’t make sense at first, his head still spinning, but he tried to focus. The book wasn’t anything special, it was just some random novel, but it was a distraction, and right now, that was exactly what he needed.

As he sat there, sipping on his soda and nibbling on his sandwich, Peter realized that he didn’t have to do this alone. There were people in this world who still cared, who still saw him as something more than just a kid in a mask. Maybe that wasn’t enough to fix everything, but it was something.

-

Peter’s hands were shaky as he turned the page of his book, doing his best to ignore the dull, throbbing pain in his shoulder. This burning infection was really getting to be an inconvenience. An inconvenience the only grew worse each day. He had no idea how to treat an infected bullet wound. The antibiotics he got from that dingey CVS weren’t working at all.

The remaining half a sandwich in front of him was a rare indulgence, but Peter didn’t regret spending the money. This bodega always had the best sandwiches, and the warm food made him feel a little less like the world was crumbling around him. Plus, he had really needed some real food.

He was halfway through another bite when someone dropped into the seat across from him.

Peter blinked, startled, looking up into the all-too-familiar face of Ned Leeds.

“Uh... Ned?” he said dumbly, lowering his sandwich and glancing around nervously. His heart immediately sped up. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…” Ned looked awkward, shifting in his seat. “I could ask you the same thing! You’ve been gone for days, and now you’re just sitting here like nothing happened. Where have you been? Are you safe? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

Peter frowned, his stomach twisting. Maybe because he was literally actively trying to run away from CPS? Maybe because he has nothing left of his life in Queens? Maybe because I’m trying to avoid you and MJ? Take your pick.

Instead, he shifted uneasily, not meeting his best friend’s eyes. He wanted to say something that wouldn’t make Ned hate him. “I-I… Uh… I’m-”

Before Peter could finish his stuttered response, a loud metallic clang from outside the window drew their attention.

Peter turned his head and froze.

On the sidewalk outside, a massive Iron Man suit stood gleaming in the sunlight. The faceplate slid open, and none other than Tony-his-dad-who-didn’t-want-him-Stark stepped out, his eyes scanning the area with a frantic energy that made Peter’s blood run cold.

No. No, no, no.

“Did you-” Peter whipped his head around to stare at Ned. His voice dropped to a panicked whisper. “Why would you do that?” His voice cracked, but he felt too betrayed to be embarrassed.

Ned blinked, as if he was surprised that Peter would be upset that he had just turned his so-called best friend in “What do you mean?”

What did he mean, ‘what do you mean’!? You just turned me in!!

Peter’s eyes were wide, and his mouth slightly open. For some reason, betrayal made him forget how to speak English, but he manages to stutter out, “You- you called him?”

“Peter, I was just trying to help-” Ned’s eyes were wide.

Help?! How in the world was this helping? How was he even going to get out of this situation?

Peter held up a hand, cutting him off. “Did you really think that’s what I wanted? You have no idea what’s been going on, and now you just… you just call him?” His voice cracked, and he looked away. He had never expected that betrayal would be painful, but then again, he had also never expected his own best friend to call people to take him away. “Why? You don’t even know what’s happened… what I’ve been through.”

Ned still stood there, eyes wide like a deer in hea
dlights. “I didn’t think- ” He cut himself off.

Peter just shook his head, refusing to meet his eyes again. His jaw clenched in anger. What was this, going through the five stages of grief? He needed to get it together, he needed to find a way out.

"You... you really didn’t think about how this would affect me. Did you?" Peter’s voice was sharp, looking around for an escape.

Ned spoke again, “I- Peter, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You can’t keep running, you’re only 15. You can’t handle yourself out here on your own yet.”

Seriously? And who are you to make that call? At this point, he had so many emotions tornadoing inside of him. "I don't need you to make decisions for me. You just completely broke my trust. You're supposed to be my friend.”

Before Ned could respond, Peter’s attention snapped back to the front door. The bell chimed as Tony stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the room like a man on a mission.
Peter’s stomach dropped. He looked around wildly, his mind racing. The back exit was right there, just behind the counter.

Tony’s eyes locked onto his.

Panic filled Peter’s chest. He didn’t think- he just acted. Using his hands, he swung his legs over the counter in one smooth motion. He ignored the startled shout from Mr. Delmar, and the sound of Tony calling his name, eyes on nothing but bolting for the door.

The alley was his only option. Peter pushed through the exit, running on adrenaline, even as his shoulder screamed in protest.

But the alley was a dead end.

No. no, no, no!

Peter skidded to a stop, his heart pounding as he stared at the brick wall in front of him. He glanced up, knowing he could scale it, but that would mean revealing himself as Spider-Man.

No. Not worth it.

His breath came in short gasps as he backed into the farthest corner, sinking to the ground and curling into a tight ball.

They’d take him back to CPS. He knew it. They’d patch up his shoulder, sure, but he’d end up with some new family he didn’t want, in a place he didn’t belong.

“Just leave me alone, please, I don’t want to go.” Peter muttered, his voice trembling as he buried his face against his knees.

-

Tony as Harley loudly burst into his lab with wild eyes and a breathless, “I found him.”

He wasn’t ready.

But Tony had learned a long time ago that life didn’t wait for you to be ready. 8 years, Noah was presumed dead. After they got the call, there had been six agonizing days of searching and sifting through endless dead ends and chasing the faintest whispers of leads. And now, Harley, who wasn’t even supposed to be involved, had come through.

-

Now, standing outside some bodega convenience store, staring at his son through the window, Tony felt like the ground had dropped out from under him.

Peter- or Noah, as Tony still thought of him- was smaller than he’d imagined. Pale, thinner than he should have been, and his face was the image of exhaustion. But it was him. His son.

Tony didn’t even register the sound of the Iron Man suit’s metal plating hitting the sidewalk as it opened. He stepped out, scanning the faces inside, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Then Peter looked at him, and then their eyes met.

Tony’s breath caught.

It was only a second. Barely a heartbeat. But in that moment, Tony saw something in Peter’s eyes he hadn’t been prepared for. Fear.

Tony took a step forward, and everything exploded into chaos.

Peter jumped up like a deer caught in headlights, his movements fast and frantic. Before Tony could call out to him, the kid was leaping over the counter like his life depended on it.

“Wait!” Tony shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. “No! Peter, stop!”

The door slammed behind Peter, and Tony felt his stomach twist. He shoved his way out of the shop, ignoring the startled looks from the other people, and the protests of the person behind the counter. His eyes locked on the back door, and he ran.

The alley was narrow, boxed in by high brick walls. Tony spotted Peter at the far end, huddled in the corner like some trapped animal.

Tony slowed, his breath heavy in his chest. He held his hands up in what he hoped was a calming gesture, taking in the kid’s ragged breathing and trembling frame.

“Peter,” Tony said softly, his voice breaking.

Peter didn’t look up. He just curled further into a ball, his head buried against his knees.

“Just leave me alone, please. I don’t want to go.” Peter whispered, his voice barely audible.

Tony’s heart felt like it shattered into a million peices.

“Kid,” Tony said, the name catching in his throat. He took a step closer, his hands still raised. “It’s just me, you’re all right.” He took another step forward.

Peter flinched.

“Okay, okay,” Tony said quickly, stopping in his tracks. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I swear, kid. I just… I just want to talk.”

But Peter didn’t respond, his whole body shaking. Tony felt helpless. The boy in front of him wasn’t the six-year-old he’d lost. He was a teenager now, one who looked like he’d been through hell and back.

And Tony literally had no idea how to reach him.

He watched Peter. The son he thought he’d never see again, huddled in this dark, dirty alleyway, scooted as far back into the corner as possible. Tony didn’t dare move closer, afraid of shattering the fragile connection between them.

Peter’s breath came in short, uneven gasps, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke, never meeting Tony’s eyes.

“So what happens now?”

Tony frowned, well that wasn’t what he expected. “What do you mean?”

Peter sniffled, not looking up. “I’ll go to CPS, right?” His voice was flat, filled with resignation. “I mean, that’s how this works. I’ll just… end up with another family.”

Tony’s heart broke all over again. He shook his head immediately, his voice firm. “No. That’s not happening. You’re coming home, Peter. With me.”

Peter’s gaze snapped to Tony’s, looking him in the eye for the first time in eight years. His wide, tear-filled eyes brimming with disbelief. “What? But-”

“No ‘buts,’” Tony interrupted, his tone softening but still firm. “You’re my kid. You belong with us. With your family. We’ll get everything sorted out, I swear. But I’m not letting you go again.”

Peter blinked at him, his face a mixture of shock, confusion, and something Tony couldn’t quite name. The kid’s trembling body still betrayed the emotional storm raging inside him.

“You know who I am?” Peter asked, his voice quiet and disbelieving.

Tony took a careful step forward, lowering himself slowly to sit on the cold alley floor, giving Peter space but staying close enough to meet his gaze. “Of course I know who you are,” Tony said gently, his heart breaking all over again at the raw fear and confusion on Peter’s face. “You’re my son. I’ve been looking for you for so long, kid.”

Peter’s brows furrowed, his expression hesitant. “Why?” he asked softly. “Why would you look for me? I was told… they said you didn’t want me. That you told them to take me away because I was too much trouble.”

Tony felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. His breath hitched, and he leaned forward slightly, his hands curling into fists against his thighs. “No,” he said firmly, his voice trembling. “No, Peter. That’s not true. That was never true. You were never ‘too much trouble.’ You’re my son. My family. We love you. I don’t know who told you that, but they lied to you.”

Peter shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks as his shoulders shook. “I didn’t know what to believe. It didn’t make sense, but… why else would they take me?”

Tony swallowed hard, his own eyes burning as he fought to keep his composure. “Because they were cruel and greedy, Peter. Because someone who wanted to hurt you and you’re brother and sister paid someone to kidnap you. But they were wrong. They had no right to take you from us.”

Tony hesitated, then carefully reached out, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, kid,” he said softly. “I’m sorry it took us so long to find you. I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through. But you’re not alone anymore. I promise you that.”

Peter didn’t pull away, but his voice was small and broken when he finally spoke. “You really mean that?”

“Every word,” Tony said, his voice steady. “You’re coming home, kiddo. That’s a promise.”

Tony hesitated for a moment, then added, “Harley missed you, you know. He was actually the one who found you, though I have no idea how he pulled it off. That kid’s got a knack for getting into things he shouldn’t.”

That earned a faint twitch up of Peter’s lips, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Harley?” Peter whispered.

“Yeah,” Tony said with a small, sad smile. “And Morgan, too. She doesn’t remember from before, but we’ve told her about you. She knows she’s got two big brothers.”

Peter’s eyes glistened from tears as he took in Tony’s words. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a flicker of something fragile in his gaze. Hope.

He also hoped that this wasn’t going to end badly; with heartbreak and more broken trust.

-

Chapter Text

Tony guided Peter out of the alley, keeping a careful, protective hand on his shoulder. Peter stumbled slightly, still weak from the infection and exhaustion, but he didn’t try and resist. He noticed the black car parked at the curb and immediately assumed Tony must have called for it.

When the car door opened, Peter froze.

Out stepped a man he recognized instantly. Happy Hogan. His non-biological uncle, the man who had once been a constant presence in his life. Happy’s face lit up with relief when he saw Peter.

“Kid,” Happy said, his voice thick. “Oh my God, it’s really you.”

Peter didn’t know what to say. He felt stuck, his body tense and his mind racing. Happy took a step closer, but Peter’s shoulders tightened, and he instinctively glanced at Tony, who was watching him like a hawk, as if afraid he might bolt at any second. And Peter thought, honestly, he might.

Happy seemed to notice the hesitation and stopped, his expression softening. “It’s okay,” he said gently. “I’m just- glad you’re okay. We’ve all been worried about you.”

Peter’s throat tightened. He didn’t know how to respond, so he mumbled, “Sorry.”

Happy’s face twisted with something between sadness and frustration, but he didn’t push. Instead, he nodded and stepped back, opening the car door for him. “Come on. Let’s get you somewhere safe and warm.”

Peter climbed into the car, sinking into the seat and leaning his head against the cold window. His shoulder throbbed painfully, the infection making him feel feverish and weak. The car ride was quiet and awkward. At least, for Tony and Happy. For Peter, the discomfort that came from the silence was drowned out by pain and exhaustion. He focused on the cold glass against his forehead, hoping it would soothe the pounding in his head.

Peter didn’t try and make any conversation. It felt like he was underwater. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Happy or Tony. He just closed his eyes, trying to block out all the emotions building up inside of him. He felt guilty- for being so sensitive and jumpy, overwhelmed, frustrated, and scared.

The car rolled smoothly through the streets, but Peter barely noticing the shops and businesses they passed. He felt Tony glance at him more than once, his father’s gaze was filled with concern. At one point, Peter thought he heard Tony whisper something to Happy, but he was too drained to catch the words.

“Kid, how’s your shoulder?” Tony finally asked, breaking the quiet. His tone was calm but insistent.

Peter stirred slightly, still leaning against the window. “It’s fine,” he mumbled, though his voice was weak.

“Uh huh,” Tony replied. “We’re getting it looked at as soon as we’re home. You’ve been through enough. Just let me help, okay?”

Peter didn’t answer, and Tony didn’t push any further, understanding that this would take time.

He ended up falling asleep/passing out after about ten minutes.

  -

Tony kept his eyes on Peter the entire time, his chest tight with a mix of relief and worry. His son, the kid who he’d thought was lost forever, was sitting right there in front if him, leaning against the car window. Tony couldn’t stop watching him, afraid that if he looked away, Peter might disappear.

He exchanged a glance with Happy, who was in the driver’s seat, the man’s expression was also concerned. Happy had known Peter back when he was Noah, back when things were normal. And now, here they were, driving a traumatized, feverish teenager home, a kid who didn’t even realize he had a home to go to.

Tony cleared his throat softly, breaking the heavy silence. “How’s your shoulder, kid?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual. Gentle.

Peter stirred, but he didn’t look at him. “It’s fine,” he mumbled, his voice quiet so Tony barely heard it.

“Uh huh.” Tony muttered under his breath, glancing at Happy again. The older man shook his head slightly, clearly thinking the same thing, this kid was stubborn. Tony tried again, softening his tone even more. “We’re getting it looked at as soon as we’re home. You’ve been through enough. Just let me help, okay?”

Peter didn’t respond. His head remained resting against the window, his face pale and damp with sweat. Tony’s stomach felt like it was on some kind of never ending roller coaster. He didn’t like how out of it the kid seemed, the way he hardley reacted to anything. The infection must be worse than he thought. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. “Hey, happy, can you step on it a little? I don’t like how he looks.”

Happy nodded. “On it.” he said, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “Kid’s tougher than he looks, Tony. Always has been. Things are going to be alright.”

Tony huffed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not test the limits of that toughness right now.”

He glanced back at Peter, who was still leading his head on the window, sitting completely still except for the rise and fall of his chest. Poor kid was curled up in a ball as if trying to hold himself together. The guilt was suffocating. How many nights had Peter suffered like this—alone, or sick, or scared, while Tony was just a 40 minute drive away, thinking his son was dead?

“I should’ve found him sooner,” Tony muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Happy.

Happy looked back at them again. “You did everything you could, Tony.” he said firmly. “And you found him now. That’s what matters.”

Tony nodded, though the words didn’t really do anything to help. He wanted to believe it, but every glance at his kid, traumatized and in pain made him feel guilty.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Tony kept stealing glances at Peter, watching for any sign that the kid might finally say something—or worse, pass out completely. He caught Happy’s worried gaze in the rearview mirror more than once, but neither of them spoke again. The tension in the car was thick, but Tony was too focused on Peter to care.

By the time they pulled into the driveway of the Stark estate, Tony’s nerves were frayed. He reached out and gently touched Peter’s shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, kid,” he said softly. “We’re here.”

Peter blinked, his eyes glassy as he sat up slightly. He glanced out the window, his expression unreadable as he took in the massive house. Tony watched him carefully, bracing himself for whatever came next.

  -

Peter’s heart was pounding as the car pulled into the Tower garage. The ride had been quiet, awkward in a way that felt suffocating. And now, as Tony opened the car door and gestured for him to follow, Peter’s stomach twisted into knots.

He was terrified.

The thought of seeing his mom and his sister again scared him. Peter remembered his young years better than post people, because when he was stuck in Mary and Richard’s house, he had no choice but to cling onto them. He remembered a lot of his life with the Starks, he remembered the sand between his toes, his mother’s kind laugh, watching his dad in the lab as he worked, but he couldn’t help but wonder, what if they hated him? What if things were different now? Of course they would be, it’s been eight years! What if they were angry he hadn’t come back sooner- or worse, what if they had moved on without him??

But Harley, he was a different story.

Peter had dreamed about seeing Harley again for years. In the nights when everything felt terrible, when he couldn’t block out the things Richard and Mary had said to him, he’d think about his twin. He knew that Harley wasn’t the one who had left him behind. Harley was just a kid back then, like him, and Peter knew that his brother would never have abandoned him by choice.

Even so, he was nervous. What if Harley didn’t recognize him? What if things were different now?

  -

Peter’s palms were sweaty as the elevator climbed its way to the top of the Avenger’s Tower. He leaned heavily against the side, his good shoulder pressing into the cold metal wall as he stared at the floor.

The ride was quiet. Tony hadn’t said a word, and Peter didn’t know if that made things better or worse. His heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that it drowned out any other noises anyway.

When the elevator finally came to a stop, Peter felt his stomach twist into knots. The doors slid open, revealing a massive penthouse that looked like something out of a movie.

But Peter barely had time to take in the high ceilings and glass walls before he heard footsteps. Someone was coming toward them.

Peter froze, his breath catching in his throat as someone who was unmistakably familiar stepped into view.

Harley.

He looked different now. Taller, broader, his features sharper than Peter remembered, but the messy hair and easy grin were the same. They looked so similar that it was like looking at himself in a mirror. There were differences, like Harley’s eyes were blue as opposed to Peter’s brown eye, and Harley’s hair was dusty brown instead of Peter’s chestnut color. Harley stopped short when he saw Peter, his eyes widening in shock.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Peter’s chest felt tight, like he couldn’t quite breathe.

“Peter?” Harley’s voice cracked slightly, but the grin on his face only grew wider.

Before Peter could think, he surprised himself by closing the gap between them and throwing his arms around his brother.

The hug caught Harley off guard, and he stiffened for half a second before wrapping his arms around Peter just as tightly. “Whoa,” Harley breathed, his voice thick. “You- you’re actually here. I can’t believe it.”

Harley pulled back after a moment, his hands gripping Peter’s arms as he looked him over. “I’ve been waiting for this for years. You don’t even know how much I missed you.”

Peter felt a lump form in his throat, but he swallowed it down. “I missed you too,” he said softly.

Harley’s grin softened into something gentler, but no less happy. “You’re taller than I thought you’d be,” he said, his voice light with humor.

Peter huffed out a small laugh. “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.”

“Hey!” Harley shot back, pretending that he was offended.

The tension in Peter’s chest loosened just a little, and for a moment, everything felt okay.

  -

After Peter and Harley finished their hug and talking together, Tony stepped in, not wanting to break this apart, but genuinely worried about Peter’s infection. What he had seen in the car was concerning.

Tony stepped forward, his gaze flicking between the two of them. “We need to get you to the medbay, Peter. You’re hurt, and we need to take care of that first.”

Peter hesitated, glancing between Harley and Tony.

“You’re not going alone,” Harley said firmly. “I’ll be right there with you, so will dad. You’re going to be annoyed with how clingy I am.”

Peter nodded. Honestly, he didn’t think he would mind. He followed them down the hall, this was very overwhelming, and on top of that, he felt like he was trying to talk underwater. He was staring into space at they walked down the hall, Harley’s hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder.

It was nice having Harley there. Peter had automatically felt loved and welcomed when he saw his brother. They were already acting like magnets with each other.

For the first time in years, he felt like he wasn’t completely on his own

  -

The medbay was spotless and bright, with walls of glass and sleek metal surfaces. It was so spotless and perfect in here, that Peter felt even more out of place than he had in the penthouse. He shuffled behind Tony and Harley, his hands shoved into his hoodie pocket as he took in the room.

A small team was waiting for them, their attention snapping to Tony the moment he walked in. They greeted him with a mix of respect and urgency, clearly ready to jump into action.

“Dr. Cho,” Tony said, his voice steady but concern laced his tone as he addressed a woman with silky black hair tied into a bun.

The woman stepped forward, offering Tony a small smile before turning her attention to Peter. “You must be Peter,” she said gently, her tone was warm but professional.

Peter gave a small nod, his fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Dr. Cho gestured toward a chair near the exam area. “Come sit down, and we’ll take a look at you.”

Peter hesitated, his feet felt glued to the floor. He could feel Tony’s eyes on him, could saw Harley standing close by, and it made his skin crawl. He didn’t want to look at, especially not like this.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony said softly, his voice trying to keep Peter calm. “She’s just here to help.”

Peter swallowed hard and forced himself to move, sitting down in the chair.

Dr. Cho crouched in front of him, her expression kind but serious. “I need you to take off your hoodie so I can get a better look at your shoulder,” she said gently.

Peter’s heart sank.

He froze for a moment, his hands gripping the hem of his hoodie tightly. There were so many reasons he didn’t want to take it off. The wound on his shoulder was bad enough, but his ribs and scars, he couldn’t let them see that.

He glanced at Tony and Harley, who were both watching him closely. He hated that they were looking at him like that, like he might break at any second.

Squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment, Peter made his decision. He tugged the hoodie off in one quick motion, the fabric brushing painfully against his shoulder as he did.

As soon as it was off, he balled it up tightly and pressed it against his stomach, hiding his ribs. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his face burning with embarrassment.

There was a beat of silence, and then Dr. Cho spoke, her voice careful but concerned. “Peter, how long have you had this infection?”

Peter’s throat felt dry. “Four days.” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

Dr. Cho’s expression didn’t change, but she didn’t say anything for a moment. The silence felt heavy, and Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Why didn’t you get help sooner?” she asked gently. “You must be feeling pretty sick.”

Peter shrugged, still staring at the floor. “Didn’t think I could.” he said honestly.

Dr. Cho sighed softly, her eyes scanning his shoulder. “Are you feeling dizzy? Sleepy? Feverish? Nauseous? Have you been throwing up?”

“All of the above.” Peter admitted quietly, his voice barely audible. He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, choosing to look at the wall beside him.

The sharp sound of Tony sucking in a breath made Peter flinch.

“Jesus, kid.” Tony muttered, his voice tight with emotion. Peter didn’t look at him.

Dr. Cho reached out, her touch light as she examined the wound. Peter’s face scrunched up in pain, his shoulder throbbing painfully under her careful fingers.

“This is a bad infection,” she said after a moment. “You’re lucky it hasn’t spread further than this. You’re going to need antibiotics immediately, and I’ll have to clean the wound.” She glanced up at him, her gaze soft but firm. “It’s going to hurt, but we’ll get you feeling better soon.”

Peter nodded stiffly, still holding the hoodie against his stomach like it was some kind of shield. His ribs pressing against his skin, not only because he hadn’t eaten properly in four day, but also because he could never keep up with his metabolism, even when he had enough food for a normal human, he was always still hungry, and the thought of anyone noticing how his ribs poked out slightly made his stomach twist.

Not to mention the scars. There were ones he had gotten from being Spider-Man, and one he had gotten from Mary and Richard. It embarrassed him whenever people noticed.

“We’ll get through this, Pete.” Tony said, his voice softer now. “We’ll just take small steps at a time.”

Peter finally glanced up, meeting Tony’s eyes for a moment before looking away again. He didn’t know if he believed him, but he didn’t really have much of a choice.

  -

Peter’s legs slightly bounced around in pain as Dr. Cho cleaned the wound on his shoulder, the sting of antiseptic was sharp and painful. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound. It wasn’t like the worst pain he’d ever felt, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant either.

“You’re doing great,” Dr. Cho said softly, her smile kind but focused as she worked.

Peter didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the wall as she continued. He hated being fussed over like this, hated being seen as weak. But he knew she was just doing her job, and he didn’t have enough energy to argue.

When she finally finished, she wrapped the wound in fresh bandages and handed him a small pill bottle. “These are antibiotics. Take one now, and then twice a day with food. Its super important that you take them, this is a severe infection, and it isn’t going to go away without drugs.”

Peter took the bottle, his fingers brushing over the label without really reading it. He knew the medicine wouldn’t do much for him. Hopefully, his enhanced healing would take care of the infection once the wound was clean. But he still popped one into his mouth and swallowed it with a sip of water from the cup she offered him.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, his voice quiet.

Dr. Cho gave him a small smile. “You’re welcome. If you start feeling worse, let me know immediately.”

Peter just nodded, standing carefully as she stepped away to clean the tools she had used. His shoulder throbbed, but it already felt a little better now that it was clean.

Tony appeared by his side, his expression a mix of relief and lingering worry. “All good? Are we done?”

Dr. Cho nodded. “For now, yes. Just keep an eye on him, and make sure he gets some rest.”

Tony nodded, then turned to Peter. “Come on, kid. Let’s get back to our floor.”

Peter followed him silently, his steps slow as they made their way back to the penthouse. When they reached the living room, Tony stopped and glanced between Peter and Harley.

“Harley,” Tony said when he thought Peter was out of hearing range, his tone serious. “Keep an eye on him. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Harley saluted mockingly. “Got it, boss.”

Tony gave them one last look before heading toward his office, pulling out his phone as he went.

Peter hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, before Harley patted the couch beside him. “Come sit,” Harley said, his grin easy and inviting.

-

Peter sat on the edge of the couch, shoulders tense. Harley plopped down beside him with none of the same hesitation, leaning back and draping one arm casually over the backrest.

“So,” Harley started, glancing over at Peter, “how’s the shoulder?”

Peter shrugged his good shoulder, avoiding Harley’s eyes. “It’s fine,” he muttered.

“Yeah, sure,” Harley said, rolling his eyes. “That’s why Dr. Cho looked like she was ready to put you in a bubble when she saw it.”

Peter let out a weak laugh despite himself, shaking his head. “I’ve had worse.”

Harley gave him a skeptical look. “Okay, well I don’t think that’s really helping your situation.”

Peter didn’t respond, the amusement fading from his expression as he stared down at his hands.

Harley cleared his throat, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “So, uh… what’ve you been up to? You know, before this everything happened?”

Peter hesitated, then said, “Not much, just… school, mostly.”

“Yeah?” Harley said, perking up. “What’s your favorite subject?”

“Physics,” Peter said without hesitation.

Harley grinned. “Figures. You’re definitely Tony’s kid.”

Peter glanced at him, his brows furrowing slightly.

“What?” Harley said, shrugging. “You are. I mean, physics? Engineering? It’s in your blood!”

Peter didn’t say anything, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Harley noticed and leaned forward slightly, his grin widening. “Come on, you can’t just leave it at physics. What else do you like?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, not used to talking about himself like this. “I do like building stuff, I guess. Machines, gadgets… that kind of thing.”

“Seriously?” Harley said, his eyes lighting up. “That’s awesome! You gotta show me sometime. I’ve been meaning to fix up an old dirt bike, but I’m terrible with the wiring.”

Peter blinked at him, surprised. “You… have a dirt bike?”

“Had,” Harley corrected, grimacing. “It kind of maybe sorta caught fire.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “How does a dirt bike catch fire?”

“Long story,” Harley said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s a masterpiece of bad decisions.”

Peter let out a quiet laugh, the sound even surprising himself.

Encouraged, Harley grinned and leaned back again. “Okay, your turn. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever built?”

Peter thought for a moment, then said, “Some canon thing that’s ammo was avocado pits. I built it with my… with Ben. It worked a little too well.”

Harley raised an eyebrow. “Too well? What happened?”

“It broke some potted plant in my old apartment’s hallway.” Peter admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Harley laughed. “That’s amazing. Please tell me you blamed it on a neighbor kid or something.”

Peter shook his head, smiling faintly. “Nope. Ben made me take the blame. Said it was a learning experience.”

“Sounds like a smart guy,” Harley said, his tone softer now.

Peter nodded, his smile fading slightly. “He was.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Harley perked up again. “You do any sports?”

Peter shook his head, replying, “No, I’ve got asthma. I am in clubs though. Robotics and Aca-“

“-demic Decathlon. Yeah, I know. I kinda maybe stalked you a little bit. But its okay, because that’s actually how I tracked you down.” Harley finished, a sheepish smile on his face.

“What? How did you find me through my clubs?” Peter asked, glancing at him curiously.

“I just searched the clubs up and looked through the photos, I noticed who you had with you in most of them and hacked the school files to find out who they were. I caught up with Ned and Michelle after Decathlon ended and asked them to call me if they saw you. Ned did, and I told dad where you were. They seem super nice; they were worried about you.”

Oh. Shoot. Well it looks like Peter had an apology to make.

Peter resumed the conversation, so that it didn’t get awkward for Harley.

“Do you play any sports?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I’m a show jumper,” Harley said, grinning. “Like, with horses and everything.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”

“Yup.” Harley said, clearly proud. “I’ve got this amazing appaloosa named Cooper. He’s the best. Total show-off, but a real sweet boy once you get to know him.”

“You… ride horses?” Peter asked, his surprise obvious.

Harley laughed. “Yeah, I get that reaction a lot. But it’s awesome, man. You should meet Cooper sometime. I think you’d like him. I have another competition in a few weeks, you should come.”

Peter tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I never would’ve guessed that’s your thing.”

Harley shrugged. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” He literally looked just like Tony when he did that.

That actually made Peter laugh, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel completely out of place.

When Tony returned, he paused in the doorway, watching as his sons talked and laughed together. Peter looked relaxed, so much calmer than when he had left, and Harley’s wide grin was infectious.

Tony smiled to himself; he hoped that Peter would adjust to everyone like he did Harley.

-

Tony stepped back into the living room, his phone still in hand. Harley and Peter turned to him, mid-conversation, their words trailing off as Tony smiled at them.

“I just let your mom know that we found you, She’s going to try and get out of her meeting as soon as possible.” Tony said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “She’s really excited to see you, Peter.”

Peter’s face flushed, and he ducked his head slightly, his fingers fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. He wasn’t sure how he felt about seeing her again. It was one thing to be around Tony and Harley, who he’d already warmed up to, but Pepper was different. She was his mom. What if she didn’t think he was worth the wait?

Tony, sensing Peter’s nerves, changed the subject. “Hey, you kids hungry?”

Peter glanced up at him and hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, I could eat.”

“Good,” Tony said, clapping his hands together. “Come on, let’s raid the kitchen.”

Harley grinned and hopped off the couch, following them as Tony led the way to the kitchen. Once there, Tony opened the fridge and pulled out a container of leftover spaghetti, setting it on the counter.

“Spaghetti okay?” Tony asked, looking over his shoulder at Peter.

Peter nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.” He’d eat just about anything. Spaghetti sounded delicious right now.

As Tony went about heating up the food, Harley not-so-sneakily sneaked over to the pantry and started rummaging through it. He turned back a moment later holding a pop-tart, ignoring the pointed look Tony shot him.

“Harley,” Tony warned, “you’re not seriously going to eat that right now, are you?”

“Why not?” Harley said with a smirk, already opening the package. He walked over to Peter and handed him one of the two pop-tarts. “Here. You need it more than I do.”

Peter blinked, taken aback by the gesture. He looked up at Harley, then at Tony, who was shaking his head with a smile but didn’t say anything.

“Thanks.” Peter said quietly, taking the pop-tart.

Once the spaghetti was warmed up, they all sat down at the kitchen table. Tony dished out the food, and they started eating. The conversation flowed easily, mostly thanks to Harley, who kept throwing out lighthearted remarks and drawing Peter into the discussion.

“So, Peter,” Harley said around a mouthful of spaghetti, “what kind of stuff did you work on before? You said you liked tinkering, right?”

Peter nodded, popping a fork-full of noodles into his mouth. He swallowed before answering. “Yeah. I, uh… I used to build things. Fix stuff. Mostly small projects.”

“Small projects?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow with interest. “Like what?”

Peter hesitated, his mind immediately going to his web-shooters and the gear he’d been working on as Spider-Man. He couldn’t exactly bring that up. “Just… random things, nothing big.” he said cautiously.

Tony narrowed his eyes slightly, clearly not buying the brush-off, but he didn’t press. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, you’re in the right place. Plenty of tools and gadgets here to mess around with. Just don’t blow anything up, okay? We could work in my lab together, see `what kind of things you like.”

Peter managed a small smile at that, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His stomach dropped as he remembered something important—his backpack.

He’d left it behind when Tony found him at the bodega. It wasn’t just a bag of stuff; it held everything he needed- his Spider-Man suit, web-shooters, spare web-fluid, money, clothes, his phone charger, and the photo of him with May and Ben.

Panic flickered across his face, though he quickly masked it before anyone noticed. He couldn’t just ask someone to take him back to get it. He’d have to figure out a way to retrieve it himself. How was he supposed to climb up the wall to grab it if someone came with him?

“Hey, uh… does FRIDAY have surveillance everywhere in the tower?” Peter asked, trying to sound casual as he picked at his spaghetti.

Tony looked up from his plate, his brows furrowing slightly at the sudden question. “Everywhere except the personal bedrooms and bathrooms. Why?”

Peter shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. “No reason. Just- curious.”

“Right.” Tony said slowly, giving him a look that said he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Peter nodded, pretending to focus on his food, but his mind was racing. If FRIDAY didn’t monitor the bathrooms, he could use the window in one of them to sneak out. It would be risky, but he didn’t see another option that would include him being allowed out of the tower by himself.

He just hoped he could pull it off without anyone noticing.

  -

The sound of the elevator dinging drew their attention. Peter froze mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air as he looked toward the kitchen doorway. Harley leaned back in his chair, craning his neck to see, while Tony glanced toward the hall, already knowing who it was.

A familiar voice called out. “Hello?” Pepper’s voice came from the front entry way.

Tony set his fork down, leaning back in his chair as he called out in response, “We’re in the kitchen!”

Peter stiffened, his grip tightening on his fork. His heart was suddenly thudding loudly in his ears, the bite of spaghetti on his fork completely forgotten. He felt Harley’s curious gaze flick toward him, but he couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall, growing closer. Peter heard her kick off her shoes, the soft thump as they hit the floor, and imagined her placing her bag down somewhere. Then, she appeared.

Pepper Stark walked into the kitchen quickly, that made it clear she’d been rushing to get there. Her silky strawberry blonde hair was neatly tied back, and her eyes, blue like the sky, swept the room until they landed on him.

She stopped walking, a small gasp escaping her lips.

“Peter.” she breathed, her voice trembling slightly. Her hands were pressed to her chest, and her expression was a mixture of disbelief, relief, and overwhelming emotion.

Peter swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very small under her gaze. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, and his throat felt tight, so he just looked at her, unsure of what to do or say.

Pepper took a tentative step forward, her eyes never leaving his. “Hi.” she said softly, her voice gentle and warm. “I… I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.” A few silent tears run down her cheek as she looks at her son with nothing but love.

Peter glanced at Tony, who gave him a small, encouraging nod, but it didn’t help much. His hands fidgeted in his lap, and he bit his lip, unsure of how to respond.

Pepper noticed his hesitation and stopped a few steps away from him, not wanting to overwhelm him. She smiled at him, tears glistening in her eyes as she spoke. “I know this must be a lot for you, and I’m sorry if I’m coming on too strong. I just-” She took a shaky breath. “I’ve missed you so much Peter.”

Her voice was uneven as she spoke, and Peter’s heart twisted in his chest. She was so kind, so gentle, and so open with her emotions that sort of caught him off guard.

Pepper took another step forward, her gaze soft and full of love. “Would it be okay if I hugged you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Peter stared at her, his mind racing. Part of him wanted to say no, to keep his distance, to protect himself from getting hurt again. But another part of him, the part that remembered her from when he was younger, wanted to say yes.

After a long pause, Peter gave her a small nod.

Pepper smiled, her relief evident. She stepped closer, moving slowly so as not to startle him. When she wrapped her arms around him, it was gentle, not too tight, just enough to hold him.

Peter sat stiffly at first, unsure of how to respond. But after a few seconds, he felt her warmth, her love, and something inside his heart softened. Hesitantly, he raised his arms and returned the hug, though it was still hesitant.

Pepper pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for letting me do that.”

Peter looked down, his cheeks pink. “It’s fine.” he said quietly.

She smiled again, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “You’ve grown so much.” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “You look so much like Tony, but I see a lot of me in you, too. Just like Harley.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded, his fingers still fidgeting nervously.

Pepper put her hands back at her sides and took a step back, glancing at Tony, who had been watching the whole interaction with a soft smile. She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him, and he nodded, his expression full of affection.

Turning back to Peter, Pepper placed a hand gently on his arm. “I know this is all new and probably overwhelming, but I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve missed you so much, Kid. You’re home now, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything. We’re here for you.”

Her words settled over him like a warm blanket, and for the first time in a while, Peter felt safe. He wasn’t sure he fully believed it yet, but he wanted to.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

Pepper smiled, her eyes still shining with tears. She didn’t push him for more, knowing that it would take time. For now, she was just grateful that he was here, sitting in front of her, safe and sound.

(Hah, you thought! Oops, sorry. -your obnoxious editor)

  -

The four of them were sitting together in the living room, the mood surprisingly relaxed. Peter was perched on the farthest corner of the couch, his knees tucked slightly toward his chest, while Harley sat sprawled out beside him, his head resting on Peter’s knee, but facing their parents. Tony and Pepper were across from them, Pepper sitting comfortably next to Tony, who leaned back in his seat with his arm stretched along the top of the couch.

They’d been talking for a while now, mostly Pepper and Tony asking Peter light questions about school, his interests, and things he liked to do. Peter answered as best he could. Harley jumped in here and there, filling in the silences or changing the subject when Peter hesitated, sharing stories about the dumb things he had done growing up, or about something funny that cooper had done.

Peter realized that the conversation wasn’t as scary as he’d expected.

Pepper’s phone pinged softly, cutting through the chatter.

She reached for it, flipping it over to glance at the screen. Her face softened instantly as she saw who the message was from. She tapped the screen a few times, her thumb moving quickly as she typed out a response.

Peter caught the slight pause in the conversation as Pepper placed the phone back in her lap. She didn’t rejoin the discussion right away, clearly waiting for the right moment to say something.

A few minutes later, the conversation slowed, and Pepper glanced around the room, taking the opportunity. “I just got a message from Happy,” she said, her tone light as she met Peter’s eyes. For some reason he could only hold eye contact for a few seconds before looking away.

Tony looked at Pepper and asked, “What’d he say?”

“They’re on their way home,” Pepper said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze drifted toward Peter and Harley. “Morgan will be here in about fifteen minutes.”

Peter froze. His heart skipped, then started pounding in his chest. He straightened up slightly, his hands gripping his knees as he processed her words.

Morgan. His sister.

She was nine now. Nine. Last time he’d seen her, she’d been a baby- just eight months old. He of course had been a child back then too, but he had loved her so much in the little time they had together. He had promised that he would protect her, and he had failed.

They were lucky to have gotten all three of their kids back.

Now that Peter was Spider-Man though, he would swear that nothing like that would ever happen again. He would never, ever let anything happen to any of his family ever again.

He couldn’t help but feel like he was about to meet a stranger, and in a way, he was. But he was still excited.

Tony smiled at Pepper’s announcement, leaning forward with an energy that said he was as excited as she was. “Good,” he said, glancing at Peter. “You’ll finally get to meet her.”

Peter’s breath hitched, and he forced a small nod. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice tight.

“Hey,” Harley said, nudging him lightly with his elbow. “She’s great. You’re gonna love her.”

Peter turned to look at Harley, who grinned at him, his expression as casual. Peter appreciated the reassurance, but it didn’t stop the anxiety growing in his stomach.

He wasn’t sure what he was more scared of. That she wouldn’t like him, or that she would.

Kids didn’t have filters. They didn’t dance around sensitive topics or tiptoe like adults did. He knew she wouldn’t be like Pepper or Tony, who were careful with their words, or even Harley, who acted like everything was normal but clearly understood how fragile Peter’s situation was.

Morgan was going to be blunt, and that thought alone made Peter anxious.

He chewed on his hoodie string, his fingers twisting the fabric as he tried to keep his breathing even. He was excited too, though. A small part of him couldn’t wait to see her, to finally meet her as the person she’d grown into.

But what if she didn’t see him as her brother? What if she didn’t want anything to do with him?

Tony seemed to notice Peter’s unease. He leaned forward slightly, his expression softening. “Hey, no pressure, alright?” he said gently. “She’s gonna love you. She’s been looking forward to meeting you ever since we told her about you.”

“Really?” Peter asked before he could stop himself.

Pepper smiled, her voice warm and reassuring. “Of course, Peter. She’s been asking us so many questions about you, what you’re like, what you like to do, what you look like. She’s been counting down the days until you came home.”

Peter’s chest tightened, and he looked down, swallowing hard. That felt… surreal.

“Just be yourself,” Harley said casually, leaning back and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “You’re gonna do fine. She’s a kid. She’s fun. You’ll see.”

Peter nodded slowly, trying to listen to their words, though his nerves still lingered. He glanced toward the window, watching the skyline as if it might calm him down.

Fifteen minutes wasn’t a lot of time.

-

The elevator dinged, signaling someone’s arrival. Peter stiffened slightly, his gaze darting toward the sound as he felt his heart racing. He had heard her and Happy enter the building five minutes ago, and the whole time Morgan had spent rambling to the older man. He looked over to the elevator as he

Tony stood from the couch, his expression brightening, and Pepper leaned forward in her seat, anticipation written all over her face. Harley shifted beside Peter, nudging his shoulder gently, a subtle “relax” gesture that Peter appreciated but couldn’t really follow through on.

The elevator doors slid open, and out stepped Happy, looking his usual steady and dependable self, a duffle bag slung over one shoulder. Beside him, a little girl with dark auburn hair tied back in a ponytail practically bounced out. She was holding a glittery princess backpack, but the moment her eyes landed on Peter, she dropped it to the ground and sprinted toward him.

“You’re Peter!” she squealed, her voice high-pitched with excitement.

Peter barely had time to process her words before she was standing in front of him, her face lighting up like she’d just seen her favorite superhero. She grabbed his hand without hesitation, her small fingers gripping his tightly.

“I’ve been waiting forever to meet you!” she exclaimed. “Daddy and Mommy told me all about you! They said you’re my big brother! Now I have two!”

Peter blinked, stunned by the whirlwind of her energy. “Uh… hi,” he said awkwardly, his voice coming out soft.

Morgan didn’t seem to notice his hesitation. She started rambling, her words coming out so fast Peter could barely keep up.

“So guess what? Today at school, we had a reading contest, and I won because I read four whole books during silent reading time, and my teacher gave me a sticker! Do you like stickers? I love stickers. I have a whole sticker book in my room. Oh! And my favorite princess is Belle because she loves books too, but I also like Rapunzel because her hair is so pretty, and she’s so brave! Who’s your favorite princess?”

Peter opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. “Um—”

“Mine changes all the time,” Morgan continued, not waiting for an answer. “Oh, and I brought home library books today! I got one about space because I like planets, and I got another one about horses because Harley has a horse, and I want to learn more about them! Did you know that some horses can jump really high? I think that’s so cool!”

Tony chuckled from where he stood, leaning against the back of the couch. His eyes were soft as he watched his youngest.

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile. Morgan’s enthusiasm was so overwhelming that it was… kind of endearing. He felt some of his earlier anxiety starting to ebb away under the force of her unrelenting energy.

Harley leaned over and whispered, “Told you she’s fun.”

Peter shot him a small smile but didn’t say anything.

Morgan’s chatter seemed to fill every possible silence, and Peter realized how much of a relief that was. Anytime an awkward pause settled or if someone asked him a question that made him hesitate too long, Morgan would jump in with another tangent.

“Did you know I can do a cartwheel?” she announced suddenly, her big brown eyes lighting up. “I can show you if you want!”

Peter shook his head quickly. “That’s okay. I believe you.”

Morgan grinned at him. “You’re nice. I’m glad you’re my brother. I think we’re gonna have so much fun together!”

Peter’s chest filled with warmth at her words, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. No one had ever been this openly enthusiastic about him before. Well, except for Ned he supposed.

Pepper smiled at the scene, reaching out to rub Peter’s shoulder gently. “She’s been talking about you nonstop since we told her you were coming home.”

Peter glanced up at his mother with a smile, still not keeping eye contact though. “She, uh… she’s got a lot of energy,” he said quietly, his attempt at a joke earning soft chuckles from everyone.

Morgan beamed, clearly taking it as a compliment. “Daddy says I get it from Mommy, but Mommy says I get it from Daddy.” She giggled at her own joke, and Peter couldn’t help but crack a small, genuine smile.

As the night went on, Peter found himself relaxing more and more. Morgan’s endless chatter kept the mood light, and he didn’t feel like he was walking on eggshells anymore.

Morgan wasn’t afraid to ask him questions, and when she noticed his hesitations, she’d just shrug and move on to another topic. It was like she instinctively knew how to make things easier for him, even if she didn’t realize it.

By the time they moved to the couch, Morgan had wedged herself next to Peter, chattering away about her favorite toys. For the first time, Peter started to feel like maybe he could fit into this family after all

-

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, the volume turned low as the family settled in for a movie. Peter found himself sandwiched in the center of the couch, a spot he hadn’t chosen but had been gently nudged into by everyone else.

Tony was on his right, an arm casually slung over Peter’s shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. Morgan was wedged between them, her small shoulder curled up against Peter’s side as she picked at the strings from her blanket, her attention half on the screen and half on Peter.

On Peter’s left sat Harley, sprawled out like he owned the couch. His head rested on Peter’s uninjured shoulder, and Peter had to admit it was comforting. There was something about the weight of Harley leaning on him that made him feel safe and welcome, like he wasn’t completely out of place here.

Pepper was the last to join them. She glanced at the limited seating options and let out a soft sigh, eyeing the way Harley had sprawled himself out like a starfish. “Really, Harley?” she teased.

He gave her a sarcastic smile. “First come, first served.”

Rolling her eyes, she made her way over to Tony and settled in beside him. She leaned against her husband and, with a warm smile, reached her arm behind Tony to scratch lightly at Peter’s scalp.

The gesture made Peter stiffen at first, the sensation unfamiliar and parental. But as her fingers ran soothingly through his hair, he found himself relaxing half against the couch, and half against his dad.

The movie kept playing, but Peter wasn’t paying much attention. His focus kept drifting back to the warmth surrounding him, the weight of Morgan leaning on his side, Tony’s arm draped protectively over him, Harley’s head resting on his shoulder, and Pepper’s gentle hand in his hair.

For the first time in a while, Peter felt safe.

Morgan, already asleep, shifted closer to him, eventually putting her feet on her dad’s lap and resting her head on Peter’s stomach. He glanced down at her, the soft rise and fall of her breathing bringing a small smile to his face.

Harley, at some point, had slumped further into the couch cushions, his head now resting against Peter’s forearm. It was funny how comfortable they all felt with him already. Harley was completely unbothered. Clearly Harley’s love language was physical touch.

Peter looked around at his sleeping family surrounding him. Tony’s head had tilted back against the couch, his breaths steady and even, while Pepper’s hand had gone limp in his hair, her hand was now just a comforting weight.

The room was quiet except for the TV in the background and the soft breathing from everyone around him. Peter let out a slow deep breath, a sense of peace washing over him that he hadn’t felt in years. May and Ben had been nothing but kind and supportive towards him, but they had never tried to be his parents. Now he finally had them, and he knew that they cared about him. This was going to take a while, but he wanted this to work out. He needed family.

For the first time that week, he wasn’t thinking about where he would sleep that night or how he would find his next meal. He wasn’t worried about being alone or unwanted. Here, he was surrounded by people who loved him.

His thoughts briefly flickered to the bag he’d left behind. His clothes, his money, the precious photo of May and Ben. He’d have to figure out a way to get it back, but not tonight. Tonight, he was comfortable and ready to sleep. Today had been very overwhelming.

He drifted off to sleep, surrounded by his family, feeling like he was finally home.

Chapter Text

When Peter woke up, the faint hum of the tv was the first thing that caught his attention. His eyes blinked open, adjusting to the early morning light spilling into the penthouse. The couch he had fallen asleep on the night before was now empty.

Though Morgan sat cross-legged on the floor a few feet away, her dolls scattered around her, the tv playing softly in the background.

He could hear Tony and Pepper talking together in the kitchen, but he couldn’t bring himself to listen in on their conversation. He didn’t know where Harley was though.

Peter watched Morgan for a moment, the innocence of her playing brought a small smile to his face. Then, as he sat up, a wave of dizziness rolled over him. He squeezed his eyes shut and rested his forehead in his hands, just hoping that the horrible feeling would pass.

The smell of bacon wafted through the air, and his stomach immediately squirmed. Usually, that smell was one of his favorites. Comforting and homey. May used to make bacon on the weekend for her, Ben and Peter to enjoy along with eggs while they talked about how their weeks went. But today, the smell just made his stomach twist. He swallowed hard, trying to make his nausea go away.

“Peter?” Morgan’s soft and quiet voice drew his attention. She had her little brown eyes locked on him now, holding one of her dolls in her hands.

“Good morning Morgan.” he managed, his voice quiet and tired. He tried to smile, but it felt weak even to him.

She smiled sweetly at him before turning her focus back to her toys. Peter leaned back against the couch cushions, debating whether he could even make it to the kitchen. His head felt light, like it wasn’t even attached to his shoulders. Even just sitting still made the room sway uncomfortably.

He glanced down at his shoulder, and though the bandage Cho had placed on it yesterday was hidden beneath his hoodie, the throbbing pain was uncomfortable and stinging. It was worse now, burning hot and sharp every time he moved.

After a few more minutes of fighting the dizziness, Peter gave up. His nausea wasn’t going to go away on its own. He stood up, holding the armrest for support as the room tilted again. His vision blurred slightly, but he forced his feet to move, heading for the bathroom as quickly as he could manage.

As soon as he reached the toilet, he dropped to his knees and threw up, his stomach twisting painfully as it emptied what little it had. He groaned, his forehead resting against his arm on the cool edge of the toilet seat. His breathing was shallow, and his entire body felt weak and shaky.

“Well that’s not good.” he mumbled to himself, before flushing it away.

Peter pushed himself back onto his feet, intending to stand and clean himself up. But as he stood, the world tilted again, but this time it didn’t refocus. The last thing he remembered was the floor coming closer to his face, before everything went black.

(No buddy, I think it was your face coming closer to the floor… -the obnoxious editor)

  -

The smell of bacon wafted through the kitchen, as they worked on breakfast. Tony sat at the counter, peeling and slicing fruit into neat pieces. He wasn’t usually one for mornings, but this was different. He had his family under one roof again.

Behind him, Pepper stood at the stove, flipping pancakes. The sound of the spatula scraping the pan mingled with the faint sizzle of bacon in the oven. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, her usual morning look, but Tony could tell she was distracted. The way she occasionally paused mid-movement, he could tell that she was lost in thought.

“You noticed it too, right?” Pepper finally asked, her voice soft but carrying an edge of concern.

Tony glanced up from the cutting board. “Noticed what?”

“The way Peter won’t look anyone in the eye.” she said, setting a pancake onto the growing stack beside her. She kept her back to him, but Tony could hear the emotion behind her words. “Even when he’s talking, it’s like… like preparing for us to just- leave. It’s clear he doesn’t trust anyone right now. Well, maybe Harley.” She added the last part with a small smile.

Tony put down the knife he had been using to cut the fruit and leaned forward on the counter, resting his forearms against the edge. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I noticed.” He paused, the words catching in his throat before he finally added, “Kid’s been through hell. You can see it in everything he does, how he moves, how he talks. Can’t blame him for not trusting us yet.”

Pepper flipped another pancake, her movements slower now. “It’s not just that though.” she murmured. “They told him we didn’t want him, Tony.” Her voice was uneven, and she placed the spatula down, turning to face him. “Someone convinced him he was a burden and that we didn’t love him.”

Tony clenched his jaw, anger simmering just beneath the surface. He hated that he couldn’t even do anything to the people who told him that, because they were dead. Probably for the best.

Pepper crossed her arms, her eyes shining. “What hurts most is that he believed it. He was so close, Tony. He knew we were his parents and thought we didn’t want him.”

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, taking another deep breath. “I don’t know how we make that right. I don’t even know if we can.”

“We can try.” Pepper said, her voice firm despite the tears she was holding back. “We just have to show him, every single day, that we’re here. That we love him.”

Tony nodded, though the weight of guilt still pressed heavily on his chest. “We’ll make it right.” he said, more to himself than to her. “We have to.”

“Is his room ready?”

Pepper nodded. “Yeah, it’s ready. Its pretty bare right now, but we’ll do some shopping together to customize it to however he wants.”

Tony gave a small smile, his heart aching at the thought. “Good. He deserves to have a space that’s his. A safe space he can go to whenever things get overwhelming.”

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by the shuffle of footsteps. Harley walked into the kitchen, his hair a mess. He looked around, frowning slightly. “Hey, where’s Peter?”

Tony froze. His stomach dropped, and the knife in his hand suddenly felt heavy. He exchanged a quick glance with Pepper, who also had panic on her face. Both their minds automatically went to hoping he hadn’t run away again.

“Is he not on the couch?” Tony said, though doubt was already creeping into his voice.

Harley shook his head. “He’s not there. I just checked.”

Tony stood quickly, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back. “Peter?” he called, heading toward the living room. There was no answer.

Pepper followed, her pace quick as she looked around the penthouse for her son. “Peter?” she called out, heading down the hall to see if he was in any of the bedrooms or bathrooms.

“Maybe he’s-” Harley started, but Pepper cut him off from the other room.

“Tony!” Pepper’s voice cut through the air, sharp and panicked.

Tony turned immediately, his heart pounding as he rushed toward her voice. She was standing in the hallway outside the bathroom, the door slightly open. His breath caught when he saw her kneeling on the floor, cradling a limp Peter in her arms.

Tony cursed under his breath, dropping to his knees beside her.

Peter’s face was pale, his skin clammy with sweat as Pepper held his head in her lap. His breathing was shallow and uneven.

Tony slipped his arms under Peter, carefully lifting him. The weight- or lack of it, made him worry even more. He felt too light. “I’ve got him.” he said firmly, though his voice was uneven. “I’m taking him to the medbay.”

Pepper nodded, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. She stood quickly, following as Tony carried their son down the hall.

Harley trailed after them, his expression full of worry. “Is he- is he gonna be okay?”

“We’ll take care of him,” Pepper said, glancing back at Harley. “Watch your sister, we’ve got him.”

Harley looked like he wanted to argue but then thought better of it. Fighting wasn’t going to help anyone.

Tony didn’t say anything. His focus was on Peter, the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his skin against Tony’s arms.

When they finally reached the medbay, Tony placed Peter gently onto the bed. He brushed his fingers against Peter’s damp hair, his own hands trembling slightly. His eyes were open a little, though Tony could tell he wasn’t really registering anything that was happening.

“Stay with me, kid.” Tony whispered, his voice barely audible.

Pepper stepped beside him, hand on Tony’s arm. She looked at her son, tears running down her cheeks. They had only just found him, they couldn’t lose him again.

  -

Pepper crossed her arms tightly across her chest, leaning against the wall outside the medbay. The faint hum of machinery filled the silence between her and Tony, but it didn’t do anything to settle her nerves. She kept glancing at the door, hoping for it to open, willing Cho to come out and tell them everything was fine, that Peter was fine.

Tony paced back and forth a few feet away, running a hand through his hair. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his face pale and scrunched up.

“She kicked us out.” Tony muttered for the third time in five minutes, his voice tight with suppressed anger.

“She needs space to work, Tony.” Pepper said, though her voice was barely above a whisper, though there was a line of irritation in her words. Her own anxiety making her short and snappy. “We would’ve just gotten in the way.”

Tony stopped pacing, turning to look at her with an expression that was equal parts frustration and helplessness. “We should’ve done this yesterday.” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I should’ve had a more thorough check done. What kind of father am I?”

Pepper stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. “You did what you thought was right. He didn’t want to be here, and he needed a place to be comfortable, so you brought him to the penthouse.” she said, gentling her tone. “We didn’t know it would get worse this fast. We didn’t even know it was this bad in the first place.”

Tony shook his head, his eyes dropping to the floor. “I should’ve known. The kid was clearly sick, and I let myself think everything would just… fix itself.” He let out a bitter laugh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Stupid, Stark. Really stupid.”

Pepper didn’t know how to respond to that. She was battling her own guilt, about not insisting on a more thorough checkup yesterday, about not noticing how sick Peter really was. But she knew blaming herself wouldn’t help Peter now, and it wouldn’t help Tony, either.

“Tony, he’s strong,” she said softly, squeezing his arm. “We’ll get through this.”

Tony didn’t reply, but the way he leaned into her touch told her he was listening.

The minutes dragged on. Every sound from behind the medbay door made Pepper’s heart race. She clutched her phone in her hands, though she wasn’t sure why- there was no one she could call, no notification she was waiting for. It was just something to hold onto she supposed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened. Cho stepped out, her expression calm but serious.

Pepper and Tony straightened immediately, their attention snapping to her.

“How is he?” Pepper asked, her voice tight with worry.

Cho folded her arms, glancing between the two of them. “He’s stable for now.” she said, her tone measured. “But the situation is serious.”

Tony tensed, his hands clenching into fists. “Define ‘serious’.” he said, his voice sharp with worry.

Cho took a step closer, her voice calm but firm. “The antibiotics I prescribed yesterday aren’t working. His body isn’t responding to the medication, which is concerning. I ran some blood tests, and the results should be back in about 45 minutes. That will give us a better idea of what’s going on.”

“Why wouldn’t the antibiotics work?” Pepper asked, her brow furrowing.

Cho hesitated, her expression thoughtful. “There are a few possibilities,” she admitted. “It could be related to his metabolism. His body may be processing the medication too quickly for it to be effective. But what worries me most is how much worse the infection has gotten in such a short amount of time.”

Pepper’s stomach twisted. “How much worse?”

Cho’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m seeing early signs of sepsis.”

Pepper felt like her stomach just dropped to her feet. She saw Tony go pale beside her, his jaw tightening.

“Sepsis.” Tony repeated, his voice low and uneven. “That’s... bad.”

“It is.” Cho confirmed, her tone was concerned. “Sepsis is your body’s severe response to an infection that’s entered the bloodstream. If it progresses, it can become life-threatening. Early recognition and treatment are critical, which is why I’m keeping him here for monitoring.”

 “What do we do now?” she asked, her voice quiet and worried.

Cho’s expression softened slightly. “For now, we wait for the blood test results. I’ve started him on an adult dose of antibiotics, see what that does. I’ll need to adjust his treatment once I have more information. He’s dehydrated, so I’ve got him on fluids, and I’m addressing his other symptoms as well.”

Cho glanced at Tony, her expression carefully neutral. “He’s severely underweight, and I’m seeing signs of several vitamin deficiencies. It’s clear he hasn’t been eating properly for a long time. Longer than he was on his own. His immune system is struggling because of it.”

Tony swore under his breath, turning away and running a hand through his hair.

Pepper swallowed, trying to hold herself together. “Can we be with him?” she asked.

Cho hesitated, then nodded. “You can, but I need him to stay calm and rest. He’s running a fever, and any added stress could make things worse.”

Pepper nodded quickly, grabbing Tony’s arm. “Thank you, Dr. Cho.” she said.

Cho gave a small nod before stepping aside to let them in.

Pepper led Tony into the medbay, her heart aching as she caught sight of Peter lying on the examination table. He looked so small, so fragile, his skin pale and his hair damp with sweat. An IV was hooked into his arm, and his breathing was shallow but steady.

Tony stepped forward, his expression a mix of frustration, fear, and guilt as he looked down at his son. “We’re here, kid.” he murmured, his voice cracking. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Pepper placed a gentle hand on Peter’s arm, her thumb brushing against his skin. “You’re going to be okay.” she whispered, though the words felt as much like a plea as a promise.

  -

Peter stared at the ceiling of the medbay, the white tiles blurring as his vision swam. His body ached all over, his muscles weak and tired. He had barely slept in two days, not because he wasn’t tired, he was exhausted. But because his fever wouldn’t let him sleep.

Tony and Pepper had been kicked out by the doctors, told that if they left for a little while to get coffee, he may be able to sleep, but that wasn’t true, he was wide awake. He actually missed his parents being there with him. The way his mom would run her fingers through his curls, the way his dad slept sitting in a chair next to him, head resting on the bed, holding Peter’s hand gently.

Harley had come to see him a few times, but he had always been shooed away after a few hours, though Peter wished he could stay.

His metabolism, the same thing that gave him his healing and strength as Spider-Man, was now betraying him. Every time the nurses gave him antibiotics, his body just burned right through them, so quickly that they didn’t even have a chance to work.

His enhanced hearing, a sense he normally relied on to stay one step ahead, was also working against him now. He could hear everything: the faint hum of the machines, the distant footsteps in the hallway, the quiet conversations outside his room. Normally, he could tune it out, but not now. He didn’t have the energy to. Not when he was so weak and tired.

That’s when he heard Cho’s voice, calm but tense. She was in the hallway, speaking with another doctor.

“He’s not responding to the treatment,” Cho said, her voice sharp with frustration. “I’m going to keep trying different treatments, but if this continues…” She trailed off, but Peter could hear the unspoken words.

He is going to die if he doesn’t tell her.

Peter didn’t want that. He turned his head slightly toward the door, straining to hear more.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” the other doctor said. “I’m not talking about the infection. Did you see his bloodwork? There’s something else in there, I don’t recognize whatever it is at all.”

“I saw it.” Cho replied. “But I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if it’s related to why his body isn’t responding to treatment or if it’s something else.”

Peter’s stomach twisted. They’re talking about the spider bite, he realized. The bite that had changed his life, given him his powers, and turned him into Spider-Man. It had completely changed his body in ways that no one else could understand. He went from being a fragile asthmatic who needed glasses, to having these powers, and using those abilities to help people. And now, his stubbornness to keep that secret was killing him. Literally.

He rolled over, his skin damp with sweat. He didn’t want to tell them, didn’t want to risk Tony and Pepper finding out the truth. But if he didn’t, he was going to die.

“Dr. Cho?” Peter called out, his voice quiet.

There was a pause, then the door opened, and Cho stepped inside. She looked at him with concern, crossing the room to stand next to him. “How are you feeling?” she asked gently.

“Terrible.” Peter admitted, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. He licked his dry lips, trying to find the strength to say what he needed to say. Talking is a lot of work, don’t you know? “Uhm… there’s something I need to tell you.”

She tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “What is it?”

Peter took a shaky breath. “I’m… enhanced.”

Dr. Cho blinked, her expression unreadable. “Enhanced?” she repeated.

Peter nodded weakly. “My metabolism works faster than a normal person’s. A lot faster. It breaks down things like food and medicine before my body can process it. That’s why the antibiotics aren’t working.”

Cho stared at him for a moment, then slowly nodded, as though pieces of a puzzle were falling into place. “That explains a lot.” she said quietly.

Dr. Cho studied him carefully, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. “I believe you,” she said after a moment. “And this changes things. If your metabolism is breaking down the medication that quickly, we’ll need to adjust the dosage. You should have told me sooner. Before this got life threatening.”

Peter nodded. “I can handle it.” he said, though his voice was weak. “You can up the dosage as much as you need to. My body can take it.”

Cho hesitated, her face showing concern. “Peter, the dosage we’re using now is already high. If I increase it, we’re entering dangerous territory. For anyone else, it could be a deadly overdose.”

“I’m not anyone else,” Peter said firmly, though his voice cracked. “Please, Dr. Cho. Just try.”

She studied him for a long moment, then finally nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly. “But we’ll take it slowly. I’ll increase the dosage gradually, and I’ll monitor you closely. If anything feels wrong, you have to tell me immediately. Understand? I have to get your parent’s opinions first.”

Peter nodded weakly. “I understand.” Wonderful. Now his parents are going to know.

Cho gave him a small, reassuring smile. “You’re strong, Peter.” she said softly. “We’ll get through this.”

She left to find Tony and Pepper, and came back about 20 minutes later to tell him that his parents agreed and she would start the treatment.

She went to another room briefly to adjust the treatment plan, and when she returned, she began the higher dosage of antibiotics. It wasn’t long before Peter could feel the difference. His fever began to ease, and the pain in his shoulder dulled ever so slightly. Wow, that felt so much better.

He had been telling himself that his healing would fix it, but now maybe with this help, it actually would.

As the hours passed, Cho continued to monitor him closely, increasing the dosage bit by bit.

When the dosage reached a level that would have been fatal for anyone else, Peter began to make real progress. His fever broke, his breathing steadied, and the infection in his shoulder started to heal.

For the first time in days, Peter felt like he might actually survive this.

After a few hours of careful monitoring and cautious hopefulness, Cho and her team came to the conclusion that the high dosage wasn’t going to kill him. His body was tolerating it, and, more importantly, it was responding. They decided to let Peter rest, finally confident that his recovery was in motion.

  -

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he opened his eyes the next morning, the difference was obvious. The pounding headache was gone, his fever had vanished, and his shoulder, though still sore, felt much better. He shifted slightly in the hospital bed, the faint ache reminding him that he wasn’t completely back to normal yet, but he was glad he didn’t feel like a zombie trying to swim.

He sat up slowly, careful not to jostle the IV line still attached to his arm. The medbay was quiet, the soft hum of machines the only sound. A few minutes later, the door opened, and Dr. Cho walked in, clipboard in hand.

“You’re awake.” she said, a warm smile crossing her face as she approached his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.” Peter replied, his voice still quiet but much stronger than it had been the day before.

Cho nodded, glancing at the monitors before setting her clipboard down on the counter. “Your vitals look good.” she said. “And the infection is completely gone. I have to say, Peter, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Peter tensed slightly, hoping she wasn’t about to press him too hard. “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“Your recovery,” Cho said, her tone tinged with fascination. “It’s… remarkable. That kind of infection would’ve taken most people weeks to recover from, even with the right antibiotics. But you…” She shook her head, clearly impressed. “Your body’s enhancements are exceptional.”

Peter forced a small, awkward laugh. “I guess I just got lucky.”

Cho gave him a look, clearly not buying it. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “Peter, I know you said you’re enhanced. I just need to understand a little more about how your body works. Is there anything else I should know? Any other abilities or unique traits?”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t tell her the truth. Couldn’t risk revealing his identity as Spider-Man. He knew he had to tread carefully.

“Nope.” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just the fast metabolism and the healing thing. That’s it.”

Cho studied him for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “You’re sure?”

Peter nodded firmly. “Positive.”

She sighed, clearly still curious but decided to let it go. “Alright.” she said, picking up her clipboard again. “I’ll respect your privacy. But if anything changes, or if you notice anything unusual, you have to tell me. Deal?”

“Deal.” Peter said, relief washing over him.

Cho smiled again, her tone softening. “For what it’s worth, you’re an incredible kid, Peter. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks.” he said quietly, his cheeks slightly pinkening at the praise.

She left him to rest, and about half an hour later, the door opened again. This time, it was Tony and Pepper.

Peter sat up straighter as they walked in, his heart racing slightly. They looked relieved. Tony’s usual cocky demeanor replaced with something softer, and Pepper’s eyes glistening slightly with emotion.

“Hey, kid,” Tony said, his voice lighter than Peter expected. He walked over to the bed, his gaze sweeping over Peter as if to reassure himself that he really was okay. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Peter said honestly. He gave them a small smile.

Pepper moved to his other side, brushing a hand gently over his hair. “You scared us.” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make Peter feel guilty.

“Sorry…” he muttered, looking down at his hands.

“Don’t apologize,” Tony said firmly. “You don’t have to apologize for being sick, kid.”

Pepper leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “We’re just so glad you’re okay.” she said. “We love you so much, Peter. You know that, right?”

Peter hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded. For the first time, he actually believed it. “I love you too,” he said quietly, the words feeling weird but natural at the same time.

Tony ruffled his hair lightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re stuck with us now, kid,” he said. “Get used to it.”

Peter let out a soft laugh, the sound surprising even himself. He wasn’t used to this, this overwhelming sense of belonging. But as he sat there, surrounded by his parents’ love and concern, he realized that maybe he didn’t have to keep running. Maybe he really could let himself stay.

Chapter Text

Two days later, Peter was finally released from the medbay. His shoulder was completely healed now, the wound nothing more than a bruise left over, and the infection had been gone for days.

Cho had gone over the results of the blood tests again that morning but dismissed the strange anomalies as part of his enhancements. Peter didn’t correct her, he couldn’t. That secret stayed locked away. It was perfect, because he got to keep his secret for longer. Just because they knew he was enhanced, didn’t mean they had to know he was Spider-Man. He knew Tony and Pepper wouldn’t react well to the news, and would make him stop.

Back in the penthouse, Peter headed straight for the shower. The hot water felt amazing on his dirty, sweaty skin. Washing away all the grime and shampooing his greasy hair. The shower gave him a moment to breathe. Once dressed in clean clothes, which he had borrowed from Harley, he left the bathroom to find Harley waiting for him in the living room, a smile already pulling at his brother’s mouth.

“You’re back!” Harley said as he walked over, pulling Peter into a tight hug. Peter stiffened for just a second before relaxing, letting himself lean into it and wrap his own arms around his brother. Harley had been popping in and out of the medbay during his recovery. It was nice to know that his brother cared about him.

“Yeah.” Peter muttered, managing a small smile. “Hopefully I’ll actually stay here this time.” Peter joked.

Harley stepped back, patting him on the back. “Good. Don’t go scaring us like that again, okay?”

Peter shrugged awkwardly, not entirely sure how to respond, but Harley didn’t seem to need one.

By the time they made it to the kitchen, breakfast was already on the table. Plates piled with scrambled eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and bacon were lined up on the counter. Pepper flitted around, filling glasses of orange juice, while Morgan sat at the table, swinging her legs and humming a song as she colored.

Tony was at the stove, flipping pancakes with a spatula. When Peter entered, Morgan perked up.

“Hi, Peter! Are you eating with us today?” she asked cheerily.

“Yep.” Peter said, smiling softly at her enthusiasm.

“Good!” She slid a plate closer to the empty chair beside her. “I saved you a spot.”

Pepper glanced up, her expression warm. “Morning, Peter. How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Peter replied, taking his seat next to Morgan.

Tony turned, flipping a pancake onto a plate before pointing his spatula at Peter. “Eat up, kid. Cho told me you haven’t been eating enough, and there’s plenty here.

Peter flushed slightly but complied, grateful that no one commented when he went back for seconds- and then thirds. He had no idea how much of it was due to his enhancements or simply having people who cared enough to notice his appetite, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel self-conscious about eating.

When breakfast was over, Peter leaned back in his chair, feeling more relaxed than he had in days. This was the first time he had actually been full since the spider bite.

“So,” Harley said, leaning his elbows on the table. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” Tony said with a smirk.

“Funny.” Harley deadpanned. “Anyway, I figured since Peter’s gonna be living here, he needs the full tour.”

Peter blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, I don’t-”

“Yes, you do.” Harley interrupted, standing up and tugging on Peter’s sleeve. “You’ve been here for days, but you’ve barely seen anything outside the medbay. Come on.”

Peter hesitated, glancing toward Tony and Pepper.

“Go,” Pepper said, smiling. “It’s good for you to stretch your legs.”

Tony waved them off. “Just don’t let him break anything.”

“No promises,” Harley shot back, already dragging Peter toward the elevator.

He waved at them with a derpy smile as the elevator doors closed.

-

They walked into a different part of the penthouse that Peter hadn’t seen yet, they walked into a modern hallway, and Harley gestured dramatically. “Welcome to the rest of the tower. Let me be your guide.”

Peter chuckled softly, following his brother. “Alright, lead the way.”

Harley smirked. “First stop, my room. I figure we’ll start with the best and work our way down.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Confident, aren’t you?”

“You’ll see,” Harley said, pushing open a door halfway down the hall.

Inside, Peter immediately noticed the books. One entire wall was filled with shelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, packed with books of all kinds of genres. Some were neatly lined up, and others were stacked haphazardly, as though Harley had grabbed them in a rush.

“Whoa,” Peter said, stepping closer. “You’ve read all of these?”

Harley shrugged. “Not all of them. Probably about half. The rest are on my to-read list.”

Peter turned to him, impressed. “I didn’t know you were such a big reader.”

“Yeah, I love it.” Harley said, leaning against his desk. “Don’t get me wrong, I like tinkering sometimes, but it’s not really my thing, y’know? Reading’s more... me. I also like writing.”

Peter nodded, scanning the titles. “That’s cool. I’ve always liked books, but I haven’t had a ton of time to read lately.”

Harley smirked. “Stick with me, dude. I’ll get you back into it.”

Peter smiled, that sounded nice.

  -

They left Harley’s room and wandered further down the hall. Harley pointed toward another door. “This one’s Morgan’s room. Brace yourself, it’s a pink explosion.”

Peter peeked inside, and sure enough, the walls were a soft pastel pink, with shelves full of stuffed animals and a little desk covered in glittery art supplies. A small dollhouse sat in the corner, surrounded by neatly arranged furniture.

“Wow.” Peter said, grinning. “She really likes pink, huh?”

“Oh yeah.” Harley said, shaking his head with a smile.

Next, they peeked into Tony and Pepper’s room. It was sleek and modern, with warm lighting and minimal clutter. A few framed family photos sat on the dresser, and Peter paused, taking in a picture of himself as a toddler sitting on Tony’s shoulders, little Harley resting on his hip. That made him smile.

“Ready for the best part?” Harley asked, pulling Peter’s attention back.

“Sure,” Peter said, following him further down the hall.

Harley stopped in front of a door and put his hands up grandly. “And here’s your room.”

Peter blinked. “My room?”

“Yup,” Harley said. “It’s right across from mine. Convenient, right?”

Peter hesitated, staring at the closed door.

Before he could open it, Pepper’s voice came from behind them. “It’s all yours, Peter.”

They turned to see her walking toward them, smiling softly.

“I thought you might like to make it your own,” Pepper said. “We can go shopping sometime, get whatever you want to decorate. Posters, furniture, anything that makes it feel like home.”

Peter glanced between her and the door, feeling a little emotional. His mom, after eight years of being apart, wanted to spend time with him. “Thanks. That... that sounds nice.”

Harley grinned. “You’re allowed to have friends over too, y’know. Well, mostly.”

Peter glanced at Pepper, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed. “You can invite friends, kiddo. Just know that Tony will probably stalk them before they arrive.”

Peter shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That’s fine. I might have my two friends over sometime this week, actually.”

Harley’s grin widened. “You mean Ned and Michelle?”

Peter nodded.

“Cool.” Harley said. “I want to meet them.” Then added, “Properly this time…”

Pepper patted Peter’s shoulder. “Let me know when, and we’ll make sure there’s food. Now, I’ll leave you boys to it.”

  -

After Pepper left, Harley dragged Peter back to his room and tossed him a controller. “Alright, time to prove your worth.”

Peter laughed softly. “What are we playing?”

“Whatever I can beat you at,” Harley said with a smirk.

They settled into an easy rhythm, playfully bickering as they played Mario Cart. At one point, during a break in the game, Peter hesitated.

“Hey, Harley?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I might’ve screwed up with Ned.” Peter admitted quietly. “I think he’s upset with me because I snapped at him. I didn’t realize at the time that you’d asked him to... y’know, call you guys.”

Harley frowned, glancing at him. “What happened?”

Peter sighed. “I was just so freaked out, and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I haven’t called him since.”

Harley looked at him, understanding in his big blue eyes. “It’s probably fine. Just call him and explain. Ned seems like a nice guy, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, maybe. I hope so.”

They went back to playing, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. By the time Pepper called them for dinner, Peter felt happier than he had in weeks.

  -

That night, the family had a casual dinner. Tony had insisted on doing the cooking himself. The dishes of pasta were spread out across the table- pesto, and some spaghetti marinara for Morgan, who insisted it was the only ‘proper’ pasta. No green things.

Pepper had raised an eyebrow at Tony for cooking two different things, but Peter wasn’t complaining. He hadn’t had homemade food like this in forever.

The family sat around the table, everyone with food on their plates. Harley was mid-tattling on himself about a disastrous chemistry project he’d done in school. Peter couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Okay, wait,” Peter said, setting his fork down on his plate. “You’re telling me you actually managed to make a simple school science experiment explode?”

Harley shrugged. “It wasn’t on purpose! It was a controlled explosion… mostly.”

“‘Controlled explosion?’” Pepper echoed, raising her eyebrows. “Do I even want to know? When did this happen?”

“A few months ago, and it wasn’t even my fault! My lab partner bumped some chemical that we weren’t even supposed to be using..”

Peter couldn’t stop laughing. “I don’t know, that sounds like something you’d do, honestly.”

Harley threw a piece of bread at him, which he dodged without thinking about thanks to his spider-sense.

Tony cleared his throat, pretending to look stern. “No food fights at the table. Unless you’re throwing it at Harley. Then it’s fine.”

“Real nice, Dad.” Harley responded, rolling his eyes and trying to hide a smile.

Peter smiled, glancing around the table. He felt like he belonged here again, surrounded by laughter and bickering. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this, just- being part of something.

Peter piped up, mouth half-full of pasta. “Do you remember when we were little? We used to play hide-and-seek, but Harley would always hide in the same spot under the kitchen table.”

Peter snorted, shaking his head. “I’d always find him in, like, two seconds.”

“Hey! It was a good spot!” Harley argued, voice a higher pitch than usual.

“Not when your feet were sticking out! Besides, when you hide in the same place every time, It doesn’t really qualify as a ‘good spot’ anymore.” Peter teased.

Tony smirked. “Oh, let’s not forget the time Peter decided to be ‘helpful’ and ‘fix’ the espresso machine when he was, what, five?”

“Oh, no.” Pepper groaned, hiding her face. “The kitchen was covered in coffee grounds for days.”

Peter grinned sheepishly. “In my defense, I thought I was helping. And I vaguely remember someone saying, ‘You’re a genius, kid.’” He said, mocking the last part.

“That was before you broke the machine.” Tony shot back, pointing his fork at Peter.

Laughter bubbled around the table, and Peter couldn’t stop smiling. He felt like he was slotting back into a puzzle he’d forgotten he was part of.

As the evening turned to night, the conversations flowed easily. They talked about Morgan’s school projects, Pepper’s work, Harley’s plans for the summer competitions, and Tony’s latest tech developments. Peter even shared a story about a failed science experiment he’d done at school, which had Ned running out of the room to avoid the fire alarm.

For the first time in years, Peter felt like he actually belonged. When he was with May and Ben, he knew they loved him, and they believed he fit in, he didn’t always feel the same way, knowing that they weren’t his actual aunt or uncle. He still didn’t know exactly where he fit in this family, but he knew he was wanted here. And honestly, that was enough.

  -

That night, after dinner, the family moved to the couch for a movie. The lingering warmth of laughter from dinner carried over as Morgan pestered Peter to sit closer to her, but he brushed her off with a playful grin and found a spot at the far end of the couch.

“You’re no fun.” Morgan huffed, flopping dramatically onto Pepper’s lap.

“I’m plenty of fun.” Peter said with a small smile. “I just don’t trust you not to steal my blanket.”

Morgan stuck her tongue out, but soon enough the lights dimmed, and the movie started.

It was Morgan’s night to chose, and soon enough Ratatouille was playing on the huge screen. Peter tried his best to pay attention, the movie was good, sure, but Peter’s mind wasn’t on it. He was focused on everyone around him. Tony and Pepper sat close together, Tony’s arm draped over Pepper’s shoulder. Harley had sprawled across half the couch, his legs stretched out so far they were practically in Peter’s lap. Nala sat sleeping next to him, snoring softly. As he scratched his fingers through her fur. Morgan giggled every time Remy did something funny, her laugh contagious enough to make Peter quietly laugh with her.

But he’d positioned himself carefully, purposefully sitting far enough away from the others. Not because he didn’t like their company, it was the opposite. He liked it very much. It was comforting in a way that scared him, and he needed space to remind himself that this might not be forever. Plus, he still needed to get his bad from the alleyway.

As the credits rolled and the music played, Peter glanced around. The room had grown quieter.

Pepper was asleep, her head leaning against Tony’s shoulder, her arm loosely wrapped around Morgan, who had curled into a ball at her side. Tony had his head tipped back against the couch, his chest rising and falling steadily. Harley, predictably, had completely taken over his corner of the couch, his legs now tucked up and his head half-buried in a throw pillow.

They were all asleep.

Peter took a quiet deep breath. This was it, he didn’t know when the next time he was going to be able to get away without anyone noticing.

He slipped off the couch as quietly as he could, wincing when his foot accidentally nudged the coffee table and made a faint thunk. He looked back, and everyone was still asleep.

Perfect.

He slipped his shoes on, heart thudding in his chest. If all went to plan, he’d be back before anyone even noticed he was gone.

  -

“Friday?” he whispered. “Don’t let the elevator ding when it opens, okay?”

“Understood, Peter,” the AI replied, matching his whisper.

Peter’s pulse quickened as he slipped into the elevator. The soft hum of the machinery echoed in the otherwise silent space. He glanced upward.

The elevator stopped on the ground floor without so much as a chime. Peter peeked out cautiously before stepping into the dimly lit lobby. He crept toward the private exit used by the Tower's residents, his footsteps quiet against the clean floors.

The chilly night air hit him as he stepped onto the sidewalk. For a moment, Peter hesitated. His gaze flicking back to the glowing Stark Tower logo above him. He shook his head, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets, and started walking. It wasn’t a big deal. He would just grab his bag, and come tight back.

The streets were quieter than during the day, but definitely not silent. There was the occasional car that passed by. His feet carried him on autopilot, each step bringing back a flood of memories he’d rather forget. It certainly was a long walk. Its fine though, he had all night.

  -

He turned into his alleyway, his stomach knotting with anxiety of his bag being gone. He hoped it was still there. Everything in that bag was replaceable, except for the photo of May and Ben, and the suit. That had taken weeks for him to make.

He finally got to the wall that he used to climb to get up to his rooftop/makeshift home. Peter crouched and launched himself upward, his fingers gripping the bricks easily with his stickiness.

When he reached the ledge where he had stashed his backpack, he let out a relieved breath. It was still there.

Snatching it up, he unzipped it and shuffled through everything inside. The clothes, money, his phone charger, a photo of him with May and Ben, and, most importantly, his suit. Everything was there, just as he’d left it.

Peter held up the suit, the faint light glinting off the goggles of the mask. A grin tugged at his lips.

“Maybe a short patrol wouldn’t hurt..” he murmured.

His body practically exploded with the pent-up energy of days spent confined. He tugged the suit on, before pulling the mask over his face.

Crouching on the ledge, Peter scanned the city skyline.

“Alright,” he whispered, rolling his shoulders, “let’s see what’s going on out there.”

With a leap, he swung around, the wind whipping past him as he swung between buildings. For the first time since he had gotten sick, he felt like himself again.

  -

Peter swung around the city, its glowing lights creating a patchwork of yellow, orange, and white against the inky black sky. There were also other colors, just fewer of them. He swung effortlessly between the buildings, the cool night air rushing past him. Each swing was coordinated and precise, a reminder of who he was and what he could do.

It felt good to be back out here. He had been cooped up for days, and now, every muscle in his body just wanted to be out here, swinging around and making sure people were safe. It wasn’t just the physical release, it was the purpose he felt when he was out here. He needed to protect people. Because if he didn’t, who would?

He launched himself off another rooftop, his enhanced hearing picked up the faint sound of something out of place, a shout.

He stopped mid-swing, clinging to the side of a building as he listened intently. It came again, sharper this time. A woman. She was in trouble.

Peter’s head snapped toward the sound, and he was moving before he even fully processed it. The scream led him to a side street where a woman was being cornered by two men. One held a knife, the blade catching the light, while the other blocked her path.

“Come on!” the man with the knife said, his voice slimy and mocking. “Just give us the bag, and we won’t hurt you.”

Peter swung down, silent and quick. The woman flinched, her back pressed against the wall, but the men hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Hey,” Peter called, his voice light and teasing, “do you guys ever stop and think about how cliché this is? Dark alley, innocent woman, scary knife? It’s like you’re auditioning for a corny crime movie.”

Both men turned toward him, startled. The one with the knife glared. “And who are you supposed to be?”

Peter landed lightly on the ground, hands on his hips. “Me? I’m just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. And I’m here to tell you that you’ve officially failed mugging 101. Rule one, don’t get caught.”

The man growled and lunged at Peter with the knife. Peter rolled his eyes under the mask. “Oh, please.” he muttered, dodging easily. With a quick flick of his wrist, he shot a web at the knife, yanking it out of the man’s hand and sticking it to the side of one of the buildings that formed the alleyway.

The second man charged, but Peter was faster. He ducked under the guys arm, avoiding his punch, and then swept the guy’s legs out from under him, and webbed him to the ground before he could even think about getting up.

The first man tried to run, but Peter shot another web, sticking his foot to the ground. “Where do you think you’re going? The fun’s just starting!”

The woman stared, wide-eyed, clutching her bag to her chest.

Peter turned to her, his tone softening. “You okay, ma’am?”

As soon as he got a good look at her face, he tensed up. Standing right in front of him, was Dr. Helen Cho. The woman who had saved his life just a few days ago.

She nodded shakily. “Y-yes. Thank you. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here-”

“Don’t mention it,” Peter interrupted gently. “Just head home, okay? And maybe stick to the main streets from now on.”

She nodded again, giving him another quiet thank you, and hurried off, her heels clicking against the pavement.

Peter turned back to the two men, still stuck in place. “Now, you guys,” he said, wagging a finger, “you’re going to stay here and think about your life choices. And maybe next time, try being a decent human being. Just a thought. Police will be here soon.”

With that, he shot a web toward the nearest building and swung away, leaving the men shouting curses after him.

Wonderful. Peter had just saved the literal Avenger’s head doctor. Way to make yourself onto their radar, Peter.

  -

After a few more swings through the city, Peter finally landed on the rooftop of a building not too far from Stark Tower. It was quiet here, the buzz of the city below muted and distant.

He sat down on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling over the side. The adrenaline of the patrol was starting to wear off, replaced by exhaustion. Maybe he should have waited another few days. He was still recovering after all.

Peter leaned back, resting against the rough surface of the rooftop. His backpack was still slung over his shoulders, and he shifted it off, setting it down beside him.

The night sky stretched out above him, the stars faint but present. He let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing.

For a moment, he sat there and thought about everything. About his family, waiting for him back at the Tower. About how much things had changed in just a week. About how, despite everything, he felt… okay.

The city lights blurred as his eyes grew heavy. He knew that he needed to get back before anyone noticed he was gone, but his body had other ideas. Within minutes, Peter was asleep.

  -

Chapter Text

Tony woke up just as the first light of dawn began to filter through the penthouse windows. He wasn’t even sure why he was awake so early, but something felt- off. He rubbed his face and glanced over at Pepper, still asleep beside him, her soft breathing steady. He shifted off of the couch quietly, tugging on a hoodie over his t-shirt as he made his way into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

The penthouse was silent, unusually so. That wasn’t too strange, his kids were heavy sleepers, and Peter, well, he was still adjusting. Tony walked back toward the living room, expecting to see Peter on the couch still curled up with Nala, maybe working on something or scrolling on his phone?

Empty.

Tony frowned. Maybe Peter had finally gotten tired of the couch and gone to his room. He moved toward the hall that lead to all of the bedrooms, starting with the one they’d set up for Peter. Opening the door carefully, he peeked inside. The bed was untouched.

Alright, no big deal. Maybe he went to Harley’s room. The two had been inseparable lately, and Harley was known for dragging Peter into his late-night schemes. But Harley’s room was silent too, the teenager sprawled out on his bed like he hadn’t moved all night.

Morgan’s room? No sign of Peter there either.

Now, Tony was starting to feel uneasy. He checked the office. Nothing. The bathrooms. Nope. Kitchen. Nada. He even opened the door to his and Pepper’s walk-in closet for some reason, just in case Peter had sleep walked somewhere weird. Still no sign of him.

It wasn’t until he glanced toward the front entryway that he noticed something that made his chest tighten. Peter’s shoes were gone.

Tony took a slow, deep breath, trying to keep himself from panicking. Maybe the kid was just exploring the tower? Plenty of places to check out, after all. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as he addressed Friday.

“Hey, FRI, where’s Peter?” he asked casually, though his voice betrayed his nerves.

“Peter is not currently in the building, Boss.” Friday replied evenly.

Tony froze. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt the blood drain from his face. “What do you mean, not in the building?”

“He left the premises at 11:36 PM last night,” Friday added.

Tony’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, all he could do was stand there, processing. He was out of the building. Peter was gone. Again.

He forced himself to take another breath, his jaw tightening. “Do you know where he went?”

“I do not have that information,” Friday said apologetically.

Tony cursed under his breath and pressed his hands to his face. His mind was already spinning, jumping to the worst case scenarios. Why would Peter leave? Was he hurt? Was he scared? Did someone take him? But one thought rose above the rest, louder and more painful. Did he run away again?

He turned on his heel and headed back toward the couch, his steps heavier than usual. He gently shook Pepper awake, crouching beside her.

“Pep, hey,” he said softly. “I need you to wake up. It’s Peter.”

Pepper blinked up at him, still groggy, but the mention of Peter snapped her into focus. She sat up, her expression immediately worried. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

Tony sighed. “I don’t know where he is. He’s not here, and Friday says he left the building last night.”

Pepper’s eyes widened, and her face crumpled slightly. “What? Why? I thought- I thought he was happy here…” Her voice broke, and tears began to well up in her eyes.

Tony placed a hand on her shoulder, his own frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Hey, don’t jump to conclusions. We don’t know why he left. Maybe he just needed some air or something.”

“But what if he ran away?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What if- what if he doesn’t want to be here?”

Tony’s jaw clenched, and he tried to keep his voice steady. “Pepper, we’ll figure it out, okay? Just… don’t panic yet.”

He hated seeing her like this—so worried, so heartbroken. And honestly, he couldn’t blame her. The thought of Peter running away again, after everything that had happened since they found him, was like a punch to the gut.

“I’ll find him.” Tony promised. “Stay here with the kids. I’ll go look for him.”

Pepper nodded, though she didn’t look reassured. Tony kissed her forehead before heading back to his bedroom to grab proper clothes. He pulled on a pair of jeans and some sneakers, his mind racing. Where would Peter go? Was he just wandering the streets? Did he have a plan?

He was lacing up his shoes when the sound of the elevator dinging opening caught his attention. Tony froze, his head snapping toward the noise. A second later, he was out of the bedroom and stepping out and toward the entryway, his heart pounding.

And there he was.

Peter stood in the doorway, looking tired and slightly disheveled but otherwise fine. A backpack was slung over one shoulder, his expression unreadable as he stepped inside.

Tony felt a surge of relief, quickly followed by frustration. “Peter,” he said, his voice sharper than he intended. “Where the hell have you been?”

Peter blinked at him, clearly caught off guard by the tone. “I-”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Tony continued, his voice rising slightly, but he was still whisper-yelling. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up and find out you’re just gone?”

“I just-” Peter started, but Tony cut him off.

“You just what? Decided to go for a midnight stroll? You didn’t think to tell anyone where you were going?”

Pepper appeared behind Tony, her eyes red from crying. “Peter!” she said softly, pulling him into a tight hug. “Why didn’t you tell us? We were so worried…”

Peter’s gaze dropped to the floor, and he wrapped his own arms around his mother. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled.

Tony ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, kid. You can’t just disappear like that. We thought you ran away again.”

Peter flinched at that, and Tony immediately regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

“I didn’t run away.” Peter said quietly. “I just… I needed to get my stuff. And I needed some air.”

Tony frowned, his frustration fading into concern. “Your stuff?”

Peter nodded, finally looking up at him. “My backpack. The one I left behind when you found me. It was still were I left it.”

Tony sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Kid… you could’ve told us. We would’ve gotten it for you.”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone.” Peter muttered.

Tony exchanged a glance with Pepper, who stepped forward and wrapped Peter in a hug. “You’re not a bother.” she said firmly.

Peter hugged her back again, looking guilty.

“Just- don’t do that again, okay?” Tony said, his voice softer now. “You scared us, kid.”

Peter just nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  -

Tony was pacing the living room, trying to keep his cool. Peter stood by the door that lead to the kitchen, looking uncomfortable and visibly bracing himself for a lecture.

“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” Tony asked, his voice tight, more with emotion than actual anger.

Peter shrugged, avoiding eye contact. (What’s new?) “I went for a walk,” he said, voice quiet but defensive.

Tony stopped pacing and turned to face him fully. “A walk? Peter, you left at 11:30 last night, and you just strolled back in now. That’s not a ‘walk.’ That’s disappearing. That’s hours of me not knowing that you were gone, that you had-” He cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m fine.” Peter muttered, shifting on his feet.

Tony exhaled sharply. “Fine? You were gone all night, Peter. You’ve barely recovered from being in the medbay! And don’t even get me started on the fact that I woke up to find your shoes missing and no clue where you were. Because that was my first thought. That you ran away again. That I lost you. Again.”

Peter flinched but didn’t respond.

“You’re fifteen, Peter.” Tony continued, his voice trembling slightly as he tried to keep it steady. “Fifteen. You’ve been through hell and back, and you think I’m just supposed to be okay with you wandering the streets of New York at night? You didn’t even think to tell anyone? What were you thinking?”

“I needed air.” Peter said, his tone clipped, his guilt shifting into annoyance. Though his voice remained quiet.

“Air? Seriously? You couldn’t sit on the balcony, or- I don’t know, take a walk inside the Tower like a normal person?” Tony pressed, his voice rising slightly despite his efforts to stay calm. “You can’t just vanish into the night and expect me not to worry, Peter. You can’t.”

“Why do you care so much?” Peter snapped suddenly, his voice sharp and louder than Tony had expected.

Tony froze, blinking in surprise. “What?”

“Why do you care so much?” Peter repeated, his voice bitter now. He looked up at Tony for the first time, his eyes flashing with a mix of guilt and anger. “You can’t just barge into my life after eight years and start acting like you’re my dad. I barely know you!”

Tony’s mouth opened, then closed, and he took a shaky breath. “Peter, I’m trying here-”

“Well, don’t!” Peter interrupted, his tone biting. “I don’t need you to. I’ve been fine without you. For eight years, I didn’t have anyone to help me, to ‘keep me safe,’ or whatever you think you’re doing now. You think I don’t know how to take care of myself?”

“You’re a kid, Peter.” Tony said, his voice growing firmer.

“I’m not just a kid!” Peter shot back.

“Yeah, Pete, you are.” Tony said, frustration still lacing his tone, but his volume had softened.

Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. My childhood ended the day I set foot into that house, eight years ago.”

That had Tony sharply sucking in a breath of air.

 “You don’t get it! You don’t know what it’s been like for me. I wasn’t safe for three years after I was kidnapped. Three years! And even after that, I never actually got to have... to have a family. May and Ben, they were good people, but they weren’t parents. They never try to be my mom or dad. They didn’t love me the way parents are supposed to love their kids. They just... they just put up with me! They took me on, because they thought I was their responsibility. Yeah they made me happy and comfortable, and cared about me, but they weren’t you.”

Tony’s heart clenched painfully at the words, but before he could respond, Peter kept going.

“And now you show up, after all this time, and you think I’m just going to... to trust you? To tell you everything? I’ve been on my own for so long. I don’t need anyone. I’m not going to get attached.”

The words hit Tony like a punch to the gut, but he refused to back down. “Peter, I’m not trying to take over your life.” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’m trying to help you because I love you. Because you’re my son, and that’s what parents do. I did stupid crap when I was a teenager too-”

“You don’t even know me!” Peter yelled, his voice cracking.

“Then let me get to know you!” Tony shouted back, his composure finally slipping. “Let me in, Peter. I’m trying, but you keep pushing me away.”

Peter shook his head, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You don’t get it. There’s no one in this world who knows me. Not really. Not Ned, not MJ, not May or Ben. No one. Everything they know about me is just... surface-level. They don’t know who I really am. And you don’t either.”

Tony felt his throat tighten, his chest aching with the weight of Peter’s words. “Then let me,” he said quietly, his voice shaking. “Let me be the person who knows you. Let me be the one you can go to. Please.”

Peter looked at him for a long moment, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Why not?” Tony asked, his voice soft but desperate.

“Because it’s too late,” Peter said, his voice breaking. “It’s too late for me to be apart of this family. I don’t know how to let you in, okay? I don’t even know where to start.”

Tony took a shaky breath, his heart breaking for the boy in front of him. “Peter, it’s not too late.” he said gently. “It’s never too late. We can figure this out together. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Peter shook his head, his shoulders slumping. “I’m tired.” he said quietly, his voice hollow. “I’m just- I’m tired, okay? I’m going to my room.”

Tony nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.” he said softly. “Go get some rest. But this conversation isn’t over, kid. Not by a long shot.”

Peter didn’t respond. He just turned and walked down the hall to his room, his footsteps heavy.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Tony sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. His mind was racing with everything Peter had said, every bitter, hurtful word that had come from a place of pain and fear.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew they had a long way to go, so many walls to break down, so many wounds to heal. But no matter how hard it got, he wasn’t going to give up.

Peter was his son, and he was going to do whatever it took to prove to him that he wasn’t alone. Not anymore at least.

  -

Peter stormed into his room, slamming the door shut behind him harder than he intended. He froze for a second, then let out a frustrated huff and threw himself onto his bed. The anger still lingered around him.

“Why does he have to be so... so dramatic?” Peter muttered under his breath, staring at the ceiling. He’s fine. He’s been fine. He doesn’t need him losing his mind every time Peter stepped outside.

But even as those thoughts ran though his mind, the anger started to twist into guilt. His jaw clenched, and his chest ached.

He sat up abruptly, running his hands through his hair. “Hah!” he laughed humorlessly, the sound hollow and sharp. “Great. Just great.”

The laugh quickly crumbled into a sob. Before he knew it, his chest was heaving with silent sobs, and he slid down the side of the bed until he was sitting on the floor, knees tucked up to his chest. He buried his face in his arms, shaking as he silently cried.

What had he done?

“I screwed up. Iskrewedupiskrewedupiskrewedup.” he whisper-yelled to himself, his voice muffled against his arms. “I really, really screwed up.”

His breath kept catching as the sobs came harder, his shoulders trembling with the force of them. He had pushed- no, super-strength THROWN Tony away. The one of the few people who were trying, who cared enough to worry about him, and he’d lashed out like some ungrateful brat.

And for what? To prove a point? To protect his pride?

To keep his identity. How often was Spider-Man going to play a factor in messing up his life? Well, probably not often, seeing as he had done plenty of damage on his own.

He let out a bitter laugh, though it was quickly swallowed by another sob. “They probably hate me now,” he muttered, making sure to be quiet enough so that only he could hear him.  “Probably think I’m some... some entitled, ungrateful idiot.”

But that wasn’t true. He wasn’t ungrateful. He appreciated everything they’d done for him. The warm meals, the hugs, the gentle reassurances. He wanted so badly to be part of this family. To have a home. To feel like he belonged somewhere.

He sniffled, wiping at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “I don’t know how..” he whispered to himself.

He leaned his head back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as his mind raced. He didn’t know where he fit into this family. He didn’t know how to open up or let anyone in. He’d learned a long time ago that people didn’t want to hear about your problems. It just made them uncomfortable.

So instead, he’d built walls. He’d constructed this whole personality, this mask- to make people like him. To be who everyone else wanted him to be. Like my personality? Thanks, it’s yours.

But now, sitting here on the floor of his new room, surrounded by the silence, that stupid mask felt heavy.

He pulled his knees closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Maybe he should leave.

The thought made his chest ache. Could he really leave? Could he pack up and walk away from Harley, from Pepper, from Tony? From the family he’d secretly dreamed of having since he was a kid?

No.

He couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

He let out a shaky breath, wiping at his eyes again. He can’t keep running. He can’t keep doing this.

He sat there for a while, the weight of guilt pressing down on him. He felt like he’d escalated the situation more than he needed to. Tony was just trying to look out for him, and he’d thrown it back in his face. The only reason Tony argued back was because he cared about Peter. He was scared.

They probably thought he didn’t care. That he didn’t want to be part of this family.

But he did. More than anything.

He sighed, leaning his head against the edge of the bed. He’ll apologize later, he decided. When and if they called him for dinner, he’ll apologize.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He’d fix it. He had to.

But even as he made the decision, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered, What if they don’t forgive you? What if they’ve already given up on you?

He shook his head, pushing the thought aside.

For now, all he could do was wait. Give them space. Wait and hope that he hadn’t completely ruined things.

He climbed into his bed, pulling the blanket over himself as he curled up on his side. His mind was still racing, and his stomach still ached with guilt, but he was also exhausted.

As he drifted off to sleep, the last thought to leave his mind was that they must hate me.

He hoped that wasn’t true.

  -

Peter hadn’t slept much. He’d spent most of the day staring at the ceiling, replaying the argument with Tony over and over in his head. Every time he thought about the hurt in Tony’s voice, guilt twisted in his chest. He shouldn’t have said those things. Not like that, anyway. But at the same time, he couldn’t stop feeling defensive, like he was backed into a corner he didn’t know how to get out of.

He had fallen asleep around 3 in the afternoon, sleeping through the night. When he woke up, it was morning.

The morning sunlight was streaming through the still-open blinds when he heard a knock on the door. He sat up quickly, scrubbing a hand over his face and hoping whoever it was wouldn’t notice how tired he looked.

“Come in.” he called, his voice hoarse.

The door creaked open, and Pepper stepped inside, balancing a plate of food in her hands. Peter blinked in surprise. He’d expected Harley or maybe even Tony, but not Pepper.

“Good morning,” she said softly, giving him a small smile as she set the plate down on the bedside table. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Peter glanced at the tray. It was a stack of scrambled eggs, a mix of strawberries and blueberries, and a blueberry muffin. His metabolism told him he was very hungry, not having eaten the day before, but he still hesitated. “Thanks,” he mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes.

Pepper sat down on the edge of the bed, picking a piece of Nala’s beige fur off of her black pants. She didn’t say anything right away, which only made Peter more anxious. After a few moments, she let out a soft sigh.

“Peter,” she began, her tone gentle but firm, “I know things got a little escalated yesterday.”

Peter’s shoulders stiffened, his gaze dropping to his hands. “Yeah,” he muttered guiltily. “You could say that.”

Pepper reached out and placed a hand on his knee, her touch light and reassuring. “Tony was scared,” she said simply. “That’s where all that frustration came from. He’s been scared since the moment we got you back.”

Peter frowned, his chest tightening. “Scared of what?”

“Of losing you again,” Pepper said, her voice holding back emotion. “Peter, you’ve been through so much, more than anyone your age should ever have to go through. But we’re just now getting you back in our lives, and it’s hard not to worry. Yesterday night, when he realized you’d left without saying anything... it brought up every fear he’s been trying to push down.”

Peter didn’t respond right away. His nose burned with the beginning of tears, but he pushed it away. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” he said quietly.

“I know you didn’t.” Pepper said, her hand still resting on his knee. “But Peter, you have to understand, we’re still figuring this out too. None of us are perfect, especially Tony. But everything he does, he does because he cares about the people around him.”

Peter looked up at her, his eyebrows scrunched up. “I… I don’t know how to do this.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to... be part of a family again.”

Pepper’s expression softened, and she leaned in closer. “It’s not something you have to figure out overnight,” she said. “It’s going to take time. But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, Peter. Always.”

Peter’s eyes burned more with tears, and he had to look away again. “I don’t know if I can open up.” he said honestly. “I’ve... I’ve never been good at that.”

Pepper squeezed his knee gently. “Neither has your father.” She continued to look him right in the eyes, but he couldn’t look into hers. “Start small,” she suggested. “You don’t have to share everything all at once. But give us a chance to prove that we’re here for you, no matter what.”

Peter nodded slowly, his mind racing with everything she’d just said. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to open up just yet, but Pepper’s words planted a tiny seed of hope in his heart. Maybe he didn’t have to carry everything alone anymore?

Pepper stood up, ruffling his hair and smiled down at him. “Take your time.” she said. “But just so you know, I think eggs are best when they’re still warm.”

A small, hesitant smile tugged at Peter’s lips. “Thanks, Mom.”

She smiled at him. That was the first time he had called her mom.

“We love you, Peter.” she said before stepping out into the hallway.

He just gave her a small smile as she slipped out of the room. He hoped she was right.

  -

Peter finished his breakfast in silence, his mind swirling with thoughts of the conversation he’d just had with Pepper. She was right—he’d been holding everything in for so long that it had all spilled out of him yesterday morning. He couldn’t let that happen again. He needed to fix things.

After finishing his plate and making his bed, Peter stretched before heading towards the kitchen to drop off his dishes. As he stepped into the room, he froze.

Tony was sitting at a kitchen stool, using the counter as a desk. He had a coffee mug in hand, staring down at something on his tablet. He looked up as soon as Peter walked in, his expression soft but cautious.

“Morning, kid.” Tony said, setting the tablet aside.

“Morning..” Peter replied, his voice quieter than he intended. He placed his plate in the sink and turned to leave, but Tony stopped him.

“Hey, hold up a second,” he said, motioning for Peter to sit down.

Peter hesitated before shuffling to the stool across from Tony and sitting down. He could feel his heart racing.

Tony took a sip of his coffee, then set the mug down and leaned forward. “Look, about yesterday morning,” he started, “I owe you an apology.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

“I wasn’t trying to smother you.” Tony continued. “I know I came across... overbearing. Okay, I was overbearing. But it’s not because I don’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself. It’s because I’m terrified.” He paused, searching for the right words. “You’ve been through so much, and the idea of something happening to you again? It scares me. A lot.”

Peter looked down at his hands, guilt building back up in his chest.

“So,” Tony said, his tone softening, “I’m going to try to back off a little. Give you the space you need. But I need you to meet me halfway, kid. Trust me with the small stuff. If you’re going out, let me know. If something’s wrong, talk to me. Can you do that?”

Peter nodded slowly, his throat feeling tight. “I... I’m sorry, too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have said all those things. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I just... I felt like I was being cornered, and all I could think about was getting out of it. I escalated everything, and I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

Tony’s face fell, and he leaned back as if Peter had physically hit him. “Hate you?” he repeated, his eyes wide and expression a mix between frustration, sadness, and guilt. “Kid, how could you even think that?”

Peter shrugged, his eyes fixed on the counter. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I just... I messed up so bad, and I thought-”

“Hey, stop.” Tony interrupted, though not rudely. He leaned forward again and reached out to put a hand on Peter’s arm. “You’re my son. There’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you. Nothing, you hear me?”

Peter glanced up at him, his eyes wet and glassy. He nodded quickly, not trusting his voice.

Tony let out a breath and sat back. “Good. Now, no more of that talk, okay? You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

Peter let out a shaky laugh at that, and Tony smiled.

After a moment of silence, Peter decided to take the opportunity. “Can I tell you something?” he asked quietly, hesitantly.

“Of course.” Tony said immediately, setting his mug aside again and giving Peter his full attention.

Peter fidgeted with the end of his sleeve, his gaze darting around the room. “I don’t... I don’t really know how to do this. Communication, I mean.” He swallowed hard and forced himself to keep going. Also forcing himself to make eye contact. “May and Ben never really... talked about stuff. If something was wrong, they’d just pretend it wasn’t. And before them, my parents...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “They didn’t talk to me either. And when they did, it wasn’t... good.”

Tony’s expression darkened, but he didn’t say anything, letting Peter continue at his own pace.

“I guess I just never learned how to... express myself,” Peter said, his voice cracking. “I don’t know how to handle confrontation or how to let people in. It’s like... I’ve always been on my own, even when I wasn’t.”

Tony’s expression went sad at the vulnerability Peter was putting out there, offering to him. He stood up and walked around the counter, pulling Peter into a tight hug. Peter tensed at first, but after a moment, he melted into the hug.

“I’m so sorry, kid.” Tony said, voice quiet and thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

Peter shook his head against Tony’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault.” he said, his voice muffled.

Tony was quiet for a moment, before pulling back just enough to look at Peter. “I just wish I’d been there. I wish I’d found you sooner.”

Peter looked down, unable to keep eye contact with Tony. “You found me now.” he said quietly.

Tony smiled softly and pulled him back into the hug. “Yeah. And I’m not letting go.”

They stayed like that for a while, the silence was comfortable and filled with unspoken promises.

As they pulled apart, Peter hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Thanks, Dad.” he said softly, the word feeling weird on his tongue but somehow right at the same time.

Tony froze for a second, his eyes widening, before a grin spread across his face. “Say that again.” He looked so happy with the simple word.

Peter laughed nervously. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Oh, it’s already weird,” Tony teased, pulling him into another hug. “But I don’t care. You called me Dad. You’re not taking it back.”

Peter rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged.

“I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. I do need you. I always will.” Peter said hesitantly, his voice muffled into Tony’s shirt.

“I need you too kid. I love you.”

  -

Peter hesitated in front of the glass door leading to Tony’s lab. He could hear faint music and the whirring of machines from inside, a soundscape of creativity and focus. Pepper had suggested that he come down and spend time with Tony, and Peter wanted to. He really did. But part of him worried that he might just get in the way, or that maybe his dad didn’t want to be disturbed.

With a deep breath, he pushed the door open. Tony glanced up from his workstation, his eyes lighting up when he saw Peter.

“Hey, kid!” he greeted, setting down the tool he was using. “Decided to join me in the fairy land of tinkering?”

Peter smiled a little, stepping inside. “I guess. What are you working on?”

Tony spun his chair around and gestured to the various pieces of tech scattered across the table. “Just a few upgrades for the tower’s security system. You know, keeping the bad guys out, the usual.” He gave Peter a pointed look. “And making sure certain teenagers don’t sneak out without permission.”

Peter flushed but didn’t argue. Instead, he approached the table and picked up one of the pieces Tony had been working on. “Your design’s efficient, but wouldn’t it be better if you used (Insert smart people stuff) here instead of this?” He pointed to a component.

Tony blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before a grin spread across his face. “You’re holding out on me, huh? Where’d you learn about that?”

Peter shrugged, setting the piece down carefully. “I like to read… and tinker.”

Tony motioned for him to sit down. “Alright, show me what you’ve got.”

Peter hesitated, but the excitement in Tony’s voice was infectious. He pulled up a chair and started explaining his idea, his hands moving around or writing ideas as he spoke. Tony listened to him explain what he knew, occasionally nodding or asking a question.

It wasn’t long before they were deep into the project together, bouncing ideas off each other and improving the design. Tony quickly realized that Peter wasn’t just smart, he was incredibly brilliant. The kid’s mind worked faster than most people he’d ever met, and he had a knack for seeing solutions that others would overlook.

“You’re a natural,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair as Peter soldered a connection on the new design. “Seriously, I knew you were smart, but this? This is next level.”

Peter ducked his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks.”

“So,” Tony said casually, leaning on the table, “aside from being a certified genius, what else are you into? Books? Music? Hobbies?”

Peter glanced up, his hands pausing for a moment. “Uh, I like science. And math. I used to read a lot, but lately... not so much anymore. Mostly just textbooks.”

Tony tilted his head. “Textbooks? That’s a bold choice.”

Peter chuckled. “I like learning. It’s... easier than people, you know?”

Tony nodded, sensing the deeper meaning behind Peter’s words. “Yeah, I get that. Machines don’t judge. They just work—or they don’t.”

The lab had settled into a rhythm of quiet productivity. Peter tinkered with the circuit they’d been working on, while Tony looked over the blueprints on a tablet, just a few feet away from Peter.

He hesitated, his hands stilling over the tools. He’d been thinking about the conversation earlier, how Tony had asked about his hobbies and interests. And though he hadn’t meant to hold back, there was one piece he’d left out.

“Hey, uh, Tony?” Peter said softly, not looking up.

Tony glanced at him. “Yeah, kid?”

Peter fiddled with the wire in his hand, twisting it nervously. “Earlier, when you asked what I was into... I guess I kind of left something out.”

Tony set the tablet aside, giving Peter his full attention. “Okay. And what would that be?”

Peter took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “When I lived with Mary and Richard... they weren’t really around much. They’d leave me alone for hours, sometimes days, and.. I didn’t really have toys or anything to do. So, I’d sneak into Richard’s office and read.”

“Read what?” Tony asked, his tone curious but gentle.

Peter glanced at him, his lips twitching into a small, almost embarrassed smile. “His old college textbooks. He had shelves of them. Biology, chemistry, physics. I didn’t really understand most of it at first, but... I liked trying to figure it out. It was the only thing that made me feel... not so alone.”

The room went quiet, other than the faint hum of machinery.

Tony’s chest ached at the quiet confession. The image of a small, lonely Peter, teaching himself over textbooks in an empty house, was heartbreaking. But he knew Peter didn’t want pity, he needed understanding.

Tony scooted his rolling chair closer and slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders in a side hug. It was casual, almost like he was trying to say ‘I’m here’ without making a big deal out of it.

“That’s impressive, kid.” Tony said, his voice warm. “Most people wouldn’t even try to make sense of that stuff, let alone teach themselves from it. Especially at that age.”

Peter chuckled softly, leaning into the side hug for just a moment before straightening. “Thanks. I just... I don’t know. It’s probably why I didn’t tell people much about myself. I figured they’d think it was weird, or that I was just being a know-it-all.”

“Hey, first of all, there’s nothing weird about being curious.” Tony said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go. “And second, people who’d think less of you for being smart are just jealous they can’t keep up.”

Peter rolled his eyes but smiled, feeling a little lighter.

“Seriously, though!” Tony added, his tone softening, “you don’t have to hide stuff like that here. You’re allowed to be you. If you ever feel like sharing more, I’m all ears. But no pressure.”

Peter nodded, the weight on his chest easing just a little. “Thanks dad.”

Tony froze for a split second, his expression melting into something that looked suspiciously like pride. “Anytime, kid.”

The mood lifted again, and they quickly fell back into their easy rhythm, but Peter’s heart felt a little fuller. For the first time in- basically ever, he didn’t feel the need to hide. At least- not everything.

They fell into a comfortable silence once again, the only sounds coming from the tools and the soft hum of the music in the background.

A little while later, the door slid open, and Harley strolled in, a book tucked under his arm. He paused when he saw Peter and Tony huddling over the workstation.

“Wow,” Harley said, smirking. “Two nerds nerding out over tech. I feel like I just walked into a sci-fi convention.”

Tony shot him a mock glare. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Nope,” Harley said cheerfully, plopping down on the couch in the corner. “Carry on, nerds.”

Peter laughed, feeling a little more at ease. He liked Harley’s teasing—it felt familiar, brotherly.

As the project neared completion, Harley chimed in from his spot on the couch. “So, Pete, you ever think about going back to school?”

Peter’s smile faltered slightly. “Yeah, actually. I really miss it.”

Harley raised an eyebrow. “You miss school? Like, willingly?”

Tony looked up, intrigued. “You want to go back to school?”

Peter nodded, his expression earnest. “I know it sounds crazy, but... yeah. I miss the structure, I mean, I never really learned anything, but I just miss... normal.”

Harley snorted. “You’re crazy. But, whatever floats your boat I guess.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “Alright, kid. If that’s what you want, we’ll make it happen. I’ll call and handle whatever needs handling. You can start on Monday.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really.” Tony said with a small smile. “But there’s no guarantee it will be exactly on Monday. School paperwork is a nightmare.”

Peter laughed, feeling a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He glanced at Harley, who was grinning at him from the couch, and then back at Tony, who was already pulling out his phone to make the arrangements.

Once again, Peter felt like he was part of something again. Like he had a family. And even though there was still a lot to figure out, he was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could find his place here.

  -

Chapter Text

It was late afternoon, after dinner, the dishes had been done, and everyone had settled down on the couch, Harley reading, Peter on his phone, and Tony working on his tablet, Harley’s head resting against his shoulder. Morgan had gone to a sleepover with one of her friends earlier that afternoon.

Pepper walked into the living room, a tray of snacks in her hand. “Alright, everyone. Tonight we’re having a game night. No excuses.”

Tony groaned from his spot on the couch, lounging in sweatpants and a band T-shirt. “Pep, do you know how many things I have to get done? I’ve got-”

“Don’t care.” Pepper interrupted smoothly, placing the tray on the coffee table. “Family bonding time. Non-negotiable. Plus, the world can survive without you for an hour.”

Peter, who had been quietly scrolling on his phone at the other end of the couch, glanced up in mild interest. “Game night?”

“Game night,” Pepper confirmed.

“What are we playing?” Harley asked, bounding into the room, already excited.

“Trivia.” Pepper said, holding up a board game box.

Tony let out a dramatic sigh but didn’t move to leave. Peter smirked at the sign that Tony was planning to stay.

As everyone settled around the coffee table, Harley stretched his arms confidently. “Alright, everyone. Prepare to be crushed.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at him. “Big talk.”

Harley grinned. “Big results. Watch and learn, new kid.”

Tony laughed and leaned back in his seat. “Alright, now I’m invested. I want to see this.”

  -

From the start, Peter was really good. As the questions rolled in, he answered one after another accurately, much to everyone’s shock.

“What is the capital of Belarus?” Pepper read aloud.

“Minsk.” Peter said before she’d even finished the question.

Tony’s mouth fell open. “How did you-”

Harley shook his head. “That was just a lucky guess.”

“It wasn’t.” Peter replied, his expression was deadpan.

The next few questions were rapid-fired off by Pepper. History, science, geography- Peter nailed them all. Harley, after missing several in a row, slumped back in defeat.

“Okay.” Harley said, pointing a finger at Peter, “What are you, a walking encyclopedia?”

Peter shrugged. “I read a lot.”

Tony tilted his head with a smile. “Harley, what were you saying earlier? Big results? Where are they?”

Harley rolled his eyes and threw a crumpled up sticky note at Tony’s head, smirking when he got a glare.

Tony turned back to him. “Seriously, kid. Where did you learn all this stuff?”

Peter couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve just always liked learning things. Internet. Books. I guess whatever I can get my hands on?” His voice was higher pitched at the end, his face red and he looked at his lap.

Pepper grinned. “Well, it’s impressive. And a little unfair.”

  -

At some point, Tony and Harley decided Peter needed to be taken down.

“Alright,” Tony whispered to Harley, leaning close so Peter couldn’t hear. (They thought he couldn’t at least) “We sabotage.”

Harley nodded. “Agreed. Let’s make him work for it.”

The next question was a science one. Harley cleared his throat loudly. “You know, Peter, I think I read somewhere that the laws of thermodynamics were debunked recently.”

Peter frowned, clearly thrown off. “What? No it wasn’t-”

Tony jumped in. “No, yeah, I saw that too. It’s wild.”

Peter stared at both of them, his eyes narrowing. He already knew but wanted to mess with them back. “You’re messing with me.”

Tony smirked, but Harley played innocent “What? We’re just helping.”

“By feeding me fake information?”

Tony raised his hands in mock innocence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes.” Peter and Harley said in unison.

Despite their attempts at sabotage, Peter still ended up winning the game, though not without plenty of laughter and protests from Tony and Harley.

  -

As they cleaned the game up, Pepper brought up the topic of school. “By the way, Peter, Tony and I sorted everything out for you to go back to school next Monday. Your absences have been excused.”

Peter perked up, excitement flashing in his eyes. “Really? Thank you.”

Harley groaned dramatically. “Midtown High? Peter, why would you willingly go back to school?”

“I like school,” Peter said with a shrug. “I missed it.”

“Crazy,” Harley muttered, shaking his head.

There was a beat of silence before Harley spoke again. “Hey, actually… can I transfer there too?”

Pepper blinked. “What?”

Harley sat up straighter, his expression more serious now. “I’m tired of private school. Everyone there is fake and stuck up, and I just… they’re not my kind of people. Midtown sounds better. Plus, I could hang out with Peter more. Maybe I can actually learn a thing or two.”

Peter tilted his head, a little surprised by the offer. “You want to transfer just to hang out with me?”

“Duh.” Harley said, like it was obvious.

Tony raised an eyebrow at Pepper, who sighed. “We’ll… talk about it.”

“Which means yes.” Harley said confidently, earning a laugh from Peter.

As everyone started heading to bed, Peter felt lighter than he had in a while. There was something about the playful teasing, the easy banter, and the simple fact that they all wanted him to be part of their lives that made him feel like he belonged, just as much as he wanted to.

  -

Peter had been sitting at the kitchen counter, picking at the remains of his cereal, when Pepper walked in. She had her hair up in a neat pony-tail, and a nice dark blue with stripes shirt and a pair of light blue jeans.

“Hey, Peter,” she greeted with a smile. “I was thinking, would you want to go shopping with me today?”

Peter blinked at her, surprised. “Shopping?”

“Yeah. You need some clothes, maybe a few things for your room.” Pepper said casually, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “You’ve only got, what, one bag of stuff? That won’t do.”

Peter hesitated. Shopping wasn’t exactly his favorite activity, but spending time with Pepper sounded… nice. And, honestly, his room was embarrassingly bare. “Sure.” he said enthusiastically. “That’d be cool.”

Pepper smiled excitedly at him. “Great. We’ll leave in like- half an hour?”

  -

The mall was busy with activity, but Pepper weaved confidently through the crowd, guiding Peter toward a department store. As they walked, she chatted easily, filling the silence so Peter didn’t feel pressured to keep the conversation going.

When they reached the clothing section, Pepper turned to him with a thoughtful look. “Alright, we need the basics. T-shirts, jeans, maybe some nicer stuff for special occasions.”

Peter shrugged. “I’m good with anything, plus I still have some of my old clothes.”

Pepper laughed softly. “Noted. But let’s get a mix, okay? You never know when you’ll need to dress up.”

They spent the next hour going through racks of clothes, with Pepper holding up options and Peter reluctantly agreeing to try them on. He quickly realized that she was good at picking things out for him that would look good on him.

  -

After grabbing a few pairs of clothes, they headed to a home goods store. Pepper led him to the bedding section, where rows of neatly folded comforters in every color imaginable were displayed.

“Alright,” she said, gesturing to the shelfs. “Pick one.”

Peter stared at the shelves, feeling a little overwhelmed. “Uh… they all look fine.”

“Come on, Peter.” Pepper said with a small smile. “This is for your room. Make it yours.”

After a few minutes of looking around, Peter’s eyes landed on a soft navy-blue comforter. It looked comfortable. “This one?” he said quietly.

Pepper smiled. “Good choice.”

As they continued browsing, Peter spotted a small section of wall art. His eyes lingered on a set of Star Wars posters, showing different characters and ships.

Pepper noticed his gaze and nudged him lightly. “Want to grab a couple of those?”

Peter hesitated. “I mean… yeah, I guess. If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay!” Pepper said, gently pushing him in the direction of the art isle.

  -

Their last stop was at a toy store. Peter had followed Pepper inside, thinking she was shopping for Morgan, but as they walked through the aisles, when something caught his eye.

It was a Star Wars Lego set—a detailed model of an Imperial star destroyer. He slowed his steps, glancing at the box exitedly. Maybe he’d save up.

“See something you like?” Pepper asked, appearing at his side.

Peter quickly looked away, not wanting to look like he was asking for it. “Oh, no. I was just looking.”

Pepper tilted her head, studying him for a moment before reaching for the box.

“Mom, you don’t have to do that I-” Peter started.

“Consider it a missed birthday gift.” she said with a warm smile. “And maybe something to keep you busy this weekend.”

Peter couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Thanks.” he said softly.

  -

On the drive back to the tower, Peter stared out the window, the bags of clothes, posters, and the Lego set stacked neatly in the backseat.

“Did you have fun?” Pepper asked, glancing at him briefly.

“Yeah,” Peter admitted. “Thanks for taking me.”

“Of course!” Pepper said, looking over at him with a smile before focusing back on the road. “You know, you don’t have to wait for me to offer. If there’s ever anything you need, or even if you just want to spend time together, just ask, okay?”

Peter nodded, feeling warm and loved. “Okay.”

  -

As they pulled into the garage, Peter’s mind drifted to Ned. The Lego set reminded him of his best friend and their countless afternoons building models and nerding out over Star Wars.

He still needed to talk to Ned. It was a conversation he was dreading but knew he couldn’t put off much longer. Maybe it would be easier to do it in person.

For now, though, he focused on unloading the bags and heading upstairs, a small smile lingering on his face.

  -

Peter adjusted the bags in his hands as he followed Pepper through the entrance, his steps quiet against the marble floor of the tower lobby. The shopping trip had been… nice. Surprisingly so. And now that they were heading back upstairs, Peter felt a little more comfortable.

They were almost to the private elevator when a voice called out from behind them.

“Harley, Pepper, wait up!”

Peter froze mid-step, his grip tightening on the handles of his bags. He turned slightly, just enough to catch sight of two people approaching them. Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers.

Oh no.

“Hey,” Natasha said as she and Steve came to a stop in front of them. “Do you have any idea why Tony’s blocked us from your floor? It’s not just us, it’s everyone on the team. Even Bruce.”

Peter dropped his gaze to his feet, hoping that if he stayed quiet and invisible, they wouldn’t notice him.

But Natasha was observant.

Peter could feel her eyes on him, sharp and calculating. She was studying him carefully, as if he might be a threat.

“Who’s this?” she asked, her voice had an edge of suspicion.

Pepper didn’t answer right away, and Peter made the mistake of glancing up. Natasha’s piercing gaze locked onto his, and her expression shifted the second she got a clear look at his face.

“You aren’t Harley,” she stated flatly, her voice certain. It wasn’t a question.

Peter’s stomach dropped.

“What?” Steve turned to her, confused. “What do you mean, he’s not Harley?”

Natasha didn’t respond to him. Her eyes stayed on Peter, narrowing slightly as she took in every detail of what he looked like and analyzing his movements.

Steve followed her gaze, his brows scrunching up as he looked closer at Peter. He had his suspicions, of course. But he also knew how delicate this was, and if he was wrong, he didn’t want to upset Pepper.

Pepper, however, didn’t seem to have any reaction, just smiling at them like she knew something that they didn’t. She gave them a calm, measured smile and said, “No, you’re right, Nat. This isn’t Harley.” She stepped slightly to the side, placing a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Natasha, Steve, meet Noah… who now goes by Peter.”

Peter felt his cheeks turn pink and his face heat up. He stared at the ground again, wishing he could sink into it. He hated being the center of attention, and right now, it felt like their eyes were boring holes straight through him.

“Noah?” Steve’s voice was soft, almost disbelieving. His face lit up with realization, but before he could say anything more, Natasha shot him a sharp look.

She turned back to Peter, her expression softening just a little. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Peter,” she said, her voice gentler now. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Peter forced himself to look up, though he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Thank you.” he said quietly. “It’s… nice to meet you too.”

Steve smiled warmly. “How did you find him?” he started, but before he could finish, Natasha elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Don’t.” she hissed under her breath.

Pepper’s hand remained steady on Peter’s shoulder. “It’s a long story.” she said cautiously. “One that I’m sure Tony will share when he’s ready.”

Natasha nodded slowly, though her eyes lingered on Peter for a moment longer, as if she were filing away every detail for later.

Steve, on the other hand, looked genuinely pleased. “Well, Peter, it’s good to have you here. If you ever need anything, you can come to us, alright?”

Peter nodded, managing a hesitant smile. “Thanks,” he replied quietly.

Pepper took that as her cue to move things along. “Alright, we’ve got a lot to unpack.” she said, steering Peter toward the elevator. “We’ll see you both later.”

As they stepped into the private elevator, Peter felt Natasha’s gaze on him until the doors slid shut.

  -

Pepper pressed the button for their floor before turning  to Peter, giving him a reassuring smile. “You okay?”

Peter nodded, though his heart was still beating faster than usual. “Do they… do they know everything?”

“Not everything.” Pepper said gently. “Just that we’ve had some… stuff going on with the family.”

Peter sighed, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “They’re going to want to know, aren’t they?”

Pepper hesitated before nodding. “Yes. Now that the secret’s out, they’ll all want to meet you. But don’t worry.” she added quickly, “We’ll take it at your pace. You don’t have to talk to anyone until you’re ready.”

Peter frowned, staring at the floor. He appreciated her reassurance, but the thought of meeting the entire team of avengers, of people who were so close to his family, of having to explain himself, answer questions, deal with the inevitable stares, made his stomach twist.

Pepper seemed to be able to tell that he was overthinking. “Hey,” she said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do this alone. Tony and I are here, okay? We’ll help you through it.”

Peter nodded again.

  -

Once they stepped onto their floor, Peter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, grateful to be back in a space that felt, if not completely comfortable, at least safe.

“Why don’t you take your bags to your room?” Pepper suggested. “I’ll start unpacking the stuff I got for the kitchen.”

Peter nodded, grabbing his bags and heading down the hall. As he walked, he replayed the interaction with Natasha and Steve in his mind.

He knew this day would come eventually, that the rest of the Avengers would find out about him. But he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon, or so suddenly. And now that the secret was out, he couldn’t help but wonder how the others would react. Would they like him?

When he reached his room, he set the bags down by the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, his thoughts swirling.

How was he going to keep Spider-Man a secret?

For someone who’d spent most of his life trying to stay unnoticed, this was really going against his rules.

  -

That evening, the laughter of Morgan and the teasing of Harley from the penthouse faded into the background as Peter slipped out onto the balcony. The cool air brushed against his face, a huge difference to the warmth of the kitchen he had just slipped out of. He leaned on the railing, staring out at the city below. It was beautiful.

He hadn’t exactly run this time. Not like before. He wasn’t leaving the tower, and he certainly wasn’t planning to go far. But the truth was, the Avengers still overwhelmed him. He’d only met two of them earlier today, and while they were polite and friendly enough, it was still overwhelming meeting even more people. Even just hearing the name ‘Noah’ in passing conversations had his shoulders tensing up. The reminders of a life he wasn’t sure he wanted to revisit were still too fresh. He had been glad that his family had started calling him Peter before they even saw him. He certainly wasn’t Noah anymore.

Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The city sounds below was calming. The familiar noise of honking cars, distant chatter, and the occasional siren.

Honestly he didn’t even know why this bothered him so much. He was just anxious he supposed.

“What are you doing out here, kid?”

Peter jumped and spun around, his heart leaping into his throat. "Jeez!" he exclaimed. "Dad, can you not sneak up on people?"

Tony smirked, holding up his hands. "First off, if anyone’s sneaking around, it’s you sneaking out of family time. Second, it’s a dad thing. Comes with the job. Plus, it’s fun."

Peter let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his curls. "You scared that crap out of me."

“Good.” Tony said, stepping onto the balcony all the way. He leaned casually against the railing, his coffee mug still in hand. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Thought we all agreed on Banana grams as the official bonding exercise of the night.”

Peter shrugged. "Just needed some air."

Tony studied him for a moment, his expression softer than usual. "You planning to sneak out again? Or is this just a light ‘I need some space’ situation?"

Peter’s face flushed, and he quickly shook his head. "No, I’m not sneaking out. I promise. I just...needed a minute."

Tony nodded, accepting the answer. "Fair enough." He tilted his head toward the city skyline. "You want me to leave you to it, or should I stay?"

Peter hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. He hated how insecure he sounded when he finally replied. "Could you...stay?"

Tony’s smirk softened into a small smile. "Sure thing, kid."

They stood in silence for a little, side by side, watching the city. Tony sipped his coffee, and Peter shifted awkwardly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

“So," Tony started, "how’s it feel being back in the land of the living?" He waved a hand dramatically toward the city. "You know, with the family and all. Overwhelming yet? Or are you loving the chaos?"

Peter chuckled, relaxing just a little. "It’s...a lot." he admitted. "Everyone’s nice, though. Even Natasha, though she’s kind of scary."

Tony snorted. "Scary is her love language. She’s actually a big softie. Just don’t tell her I said that, or she’ll kill me."

Peter gave a genuine smile at that. "Noted."

Tony glanced at him, his tone turning a bit more serious. "Listen, I know meeting the team can feel like being thrown into the deep end, but you don’t have to have it all figured out right away. They’ll give you time. I’ll make sure of it."

Peter nodded but didn’t respond. His gaze dropped to his feet.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Okay, spill it. What’s going on in that overactive brain of yours?"

Peter hesitated before blurting out, "I’m just worried they won’t… like me?"

Tony blinked. "Are you kidding me? Kid, they’re already in love. Steve practically adopted you on sight, and Natasha’s been running a full inside her brain profile on you since she met you. Spoiler alert: She likes you too. She just hides it behind murder eyes."

Peter laughed quietly, shaking his head. "It’s not just that. It’s...I don’t know if I fit in. Like, they’re this big superhero team. And I’m...me."

Tony frowned. "Yeah, you’re just ‘you.’ The same kid who can outthink most adults, charm the pants off anyone he meets, and somehow managed to survive things that would break most people. Yeah, you’re real boring, Pete."

Peter glanced at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Now you’re just being sarcastic."

"Obviously. It’s my default setting," Tony said, nudging him lightly with his elbow. "Look, kid, you’re not supposed to have everything figured out yet. You’re 15. You’re supposed to be a mess of hormones, attitude, and bad decisions. It’s part of the package."

Peter rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help laughing. "Thanks for the pep talk, Dad."

He just smiled, squeezing Peter’s shoulder lightly. "Anytime, kiddo."

They stood there for a while longer, the tension from earlier melting away. Tony eventually broke the silence with a grin. "So, are we going to go back inside, or are we just going to stand out here pretending we’re moody and mysterious?"

Peter smirked. "I don’t know. I kind of like the ominous of it all..."

Tony laughed, pulling him into a quick side hug. "Alright, Batman. Let’s get back inside before Pepper comes looking for us with that mom stare. You know exactly which one I'm talking about."

Peter grinned, letting Tony guide him back toward the penthouse.

  -

Peter walked into his room after his conversation with Tony, telling him that he was going to go and change. That had earned him a raised eyebrow, but he had only told him to hurry up. He shut the door, took a deep breath, and went to his drawer to grab a change of clothes. That hadn’t gone as badly as he’d expected, which was… strange. Good, but strange.

He glanced at his bed, thinking he’d sit down and just stare at the ceiling for a while, but froze when he noticed Harley perched on the corner, smirking at him like he’d been waiting there all day.

“Good talk, huh?” Harley said, tilting his head and looking way too pleased with himself.

Peter groaned. “How long were you eavesdropping?”

“Long enough to hear you’re scared of the Avengers.” Harley teased, crossing his arms. “Which is hilarious. Peter… nervous about a bunch of dorks in tights. That’s rich.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “I’m not scared. And I wasn’t talking to you.”

“No, you were talking to Dad,” Harley said, hopping off the bed. “But I figured you could use my insight too. Y’know, since I’m a certified expert at living here and dealing with Dad and the other Avengers.”

“Great,” Peter muttered, flopping onto his bed. “I can’t wait.”

Harley plopped down in the desk chair and spun it around to face Peter. “Look, I’m just saying, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Yeah, the Avengers are famous and intimidating and could probably destroy a city block without breaking a sweat, but they’re also kind of… normal. Steve’s basically a human golden retriever, Nat’s scary in a cool older sister way, and Thor- well, Thor’s just fun to mess with. Trust me, they’ll like you. And honestly, you and Bucky remind me of each other.”

Peter rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is.” Harley said, shrugging. “I mean, come on, dude. You’re smart, you’re funny when you’re not overthinking everything, and you’re a Stark. That alone gives you, like, 90% of their approval right out of the gate.”

Peter frowned. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“Sure it does. And even if it didn’t and things do go wrong, just know that Mom and Dad would choose you over them in a second.” Harley said confidently. “And anyway, if you are worried about making a bad impression, just remember, Natasha didn’t stab you when she first met you. That’s basically her version of a warm welcome.”

Peter snorted. “That’s… comforting, I guess?”

“It should be!” Harley said, grinning. “Look, I get it. When I first got here, I was totally freaked out. Dad swoops in, offers to let me work in his lab, and suddenly I’m living in a tower full of superheroes. It was a lot to take in.”

“So what did you do?” Peter asked, genuinely curious.

Harley leaned back in the chair, spinning it lazily. “I winged it. Said a lot of dumb stuff, got into trouble, and somehow didn’t get kicked out. Turns out they’re pretty forgiving when you’re just being yourself. And y’know, a smart and cute 9 year old, who wouldn’t love that?”

Peter gave him a look. “Humble much?”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Harley said, raising his hands. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right away. Just… let them get to know you. You’re a cool guy. Way cooler than me.”

Peter blinked. “Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Harley said, smirking. “But yeah, it was. I mean it, though. They’re gonna love you. And if they don’t, I’ll tell Nat you called her ‘scary’ and watch the fireworks.”

Peter laughed, shaking his head. “Thanks, I guess. But you’d better not.”

“Anytime, man.” Harley stood up, stretching. “Now, are you gonna mope all day, or are we gonna go see what Mom made for dinner?”

Peter sat up, a small smile on his face. “Lead the way.”

  -

Harley leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table, still picking at the crumbs of left on his plate. Dinner had gone surprisingly well, given how chaotic things had felt lately. Tony hadn’t gotten too overbearing, Pepper had kept things running smoothly, and Peter had seemed… okay. Not thrilled about tomorrow night’s Avengers dinner, but not completely falling apart either. Progress.

After Peter told everyone he was going to bed for the night, Harley had watched him head down the hall with a small frown. Something was still nagging at him. He had seemed fine earlier, even after their little chat about the Avengers, but there was something in the way he’d left that didn’t sit right with Harley. He wanted to make sure Peter was okay.

Ten minutes later, Harley found himself standing outside Peter’s door. He knocked softly. “Hey, Peter? You asleep?”

No answer.

“Cool, I’m coming in.” He turned the knob and peeked inside. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the city lights through the window. Peter’s bed was empty, the covers still perfectly smooth. Harley stepped inside, confused.

“Peter?” he called, glancing around the room. His eyes caught movement near the window, and for a second, he let out a breath of relief. There was Peter, standing by the glass. “Hey, dude, what are you do-”

Before Harley could finish his sentence, Peter, who was perched on the windowsill, jumped.

For a solid three seconds, Harley just… stood there. His brain completely failed to brain and spun as he stared at the open window where Peter had just been.

“What the-?!” he finally sputtered, bolting across the room to the window. He leaned out, his heart racing as he looked down into the city below. No Peter. Nothing. No splat on the sidewalk ninety-three stories below.

“What the hell just happened?!” Harley muttered to himself, his hands gripping the window frame. He was starting to actually freak out now. When he saw something below.

A shadow darted between buildings, moving impossibly fast. Harley squinted, leaning further out, and saw… a web?

“No. Freaking. Way.” Harley whispered, his heartbeat pounded in his chest as the pieces fell into place. The sneaking out, the secrets, the not humanly fast reflexes, the enhanced healing and metabolism, the argument about protecting himself- oh, and the fact that his brother had just thrown himself out a window like it was nothing.

Peter wasn’t just a weirdly secretive teenager.

Peter was Spider-Man.

Harley fell back onto the carpet, his head spinning. “Holy crap.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “My brother’s Spider-Man.”

He sat there for a few minutes, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his fifteen-year-old brother was the web-slinging hero of Queens. Honestly, it made sense. All of it. The disappearing acts, the way he always looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, the random bruises and cuts Harley had spotted but never asked about. Of course Peter was Spider-Man. How had he not figured it out before?

After a few minutes, Harley’s shock turned into something anger. Not the kind of anger where he wanted to yell or throw something, but the kind that settled deep in his chest and made him feel betrayed.

Why hadn’t Peter told him? He thought they were getting close. Harley had trusted Peter with his own insecurities, his own doubts. And Peter… Peter had been quiet. Harley had thought that he didn’t have anything to say, but no. He had plenty to say, he just didn’t trust his own twin enough to tell him. Peter had been lying to him this whole time.

Well, maybe lying was a strong word. But still.

Harley stood up, pacing the room for a moment before he made a decision. He was going to confront him. Right now. Well- as soon as he got back. However long that may be.

  -

Peter climbed back into his room about an hour later, quietly pulling the window shut behind him. He’d only meant to swing around the city for a few minutes to clear his head, but once he’d started, it was hard to stop. The cool air flowing through his mask, the people he got to save, the lights he got to see. It made him feel like he was in control of something, even if it was just for a little while.

As soon as he turned around, though, he froze. Harley was sitting with his legs criss cross on his bed, arms folded and looking about ten seconds away from bursting.

“Oh,” Peter said, his voice a little too high-pitched. “Uh. Hey. Didn’t realize you were aw-”

“Don’t- even.” Harley interrupted, pointing a finger at him, his eyebrows raised. It was kinda funny. “Do you have any idea what you just did to my blood pressure?!”

Peter blinked at him, trying to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“You jumped out a freaking window, Peter!” Harley exploded, standing up. “Ninety-three stories up! Do you know what that does to a person’s brain when they’re watching?! And then you just,” He waved his hands around wildly. “swing off like it’s no big deal! What the is wrong with you?!”

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but Harley wasn’t done.

“And don’t even try to deny it.” he said, stepping closer. “I saw you. I saw the webs. I saw you swinging around like you’re a wannabe bird. You’re Spider-Man.”

Peter winced. So much for sneaking around unnoticed.

Chapter Text

Harley stood frozen in place, his mind still trying to catch up with what he had just witnessed. His brother, his fifteen-year-old brother, had just thrown himself out a ninety-three-story window. And not just for fun. No, Peter had meant to do that. Because Peter was freaking Spider-Man.

Everything suddenly made sense, the secrets, the weird disappearances, the enhanced healing, the way Peter somehow seemed to know when something was wrong. And the argument Harley had overheard, when Tony had lost his mind over Peter sneaking out? That had nothing to do with Peter being reckless. It had everything to do with- whatever this is.

Harley sat on his brother’s bed for probably an hour before Peter climbed back in, pulling his mask off as he did. His hair was messy, cheeks a little pink from the cold air outside, but he looked completely unbothered. Like this was just a normal night for him.

Harley stared at him, waiting for an explanation, but Peter just met his gaze with a wary look, clearly realizing he’d been caught. The tension felt suffocating.

“Oh,” Peter said, his voice a little too high-pitched. “Uh. Hey. Didn’t realize you were aw-”

“Don’t- even.” Harley interrupted, pointing a finger at him, his eyebrows raised. He was furious. Not even because his brother had been lying to him. This was so dangerous! “Do you have any idea what you just did to my blood pressure?!”

Peter blinked at him, clearly playing dumb. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“You jumped out a freaking window, Peter!” Standing up, he waved his hands around. “Ninety-three stories up! Do you know what that does to a person’s brain when they’re watching?! And then you just,” Harley paused, breathing after his long rant before continuing “What the is wrong with you?!”

Harley was just freaking out at this point. He needed answers.

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but Harley wasn’t done.

“And don’t even try to deny it.” he said, stepping closer. “I saw you. I saw the webs. I saw you swinging around like you’re a wannabe bird. You’re Spider-Man.”

Peter sighed and looked away. “It’s… complicated.”

Harley laughed, but nothing was funny. “Yeah, I bet it is.” His voice clearly had bitterness in it that he hoped Peter could pick up on. “Are you serious right now, Peter? You’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

Peter flinched, but his expression shifted to anger, and he tensed up. “I wasn’t lying, I just- didn’t tell you.”

“That’s the same thing!” Harley snapped, stepping forward. “You- jeez, do you have any idea what it was like seeing your brother jump out a window? I thought-” He cut himself off, his voice cracking. He shook his head. “I thought you were gonna die.”

Peter at least had the decency to look apologetic . “Yeah, well, I didn’t. I’m fine, Harley. I do this all the time.”

Honestly, that didn’t make Harley feel any better. If anything, it made him feel even worse.

“Gosh, Peter, you don’t get it, do you?” Harley said, voice tight with anger and fear. “You think this is normal? That this is fine because you’re some kind of- what, superhero? That makes it okay for you to throw yourself into danger every night like this? You don’t even have any back up! You could just leave one night, without telling anyone mind you, and never come back because you got yourself killed by some criminal in a dirty alleyway.”

As he was ranted at, Peter changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Peter’s face scrunched up, he was clearly getting annoyed but Harley didn’t care. “It’s not like that.”

Harley let out another humorless bitter laugh. “Oh, really? Cause from where I’m standing, it sure looks like that.”

Peter’s hands went under his armpits. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

Harley’s frustration just erupted and his fear twisted into anger. “You’re fifteen, Peter! You shouldn’t be out there playing hero! You shouldn’t be risking your life every night-”

Peter’s face twisted, bitterness creeping into his voice. “Oh, so now you care what I do?”

Harley blinked, caught off guard. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Peter let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing. Forget it.” He moved past Harley, heading for the door, but Harley wasn’t done.

“No, say it.” Harley challenged, stepping in front of him. “You think I don’t care? That I wouldn’t be losing it if something bad happened to you?”

Peter’s expression was guarded, but there was frustration there too. “No, you don’t get it, Harley.”

Harley threw his arms up. “Then explain it to me! Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just throwing yourself into danger without thinking about what it does to the people who actually give a crap about you!”

Peter’s expression darkened. “Yeah? Well, maybe you wouldn’t care so much if you knew what it was like to actually be alone.” He paused. “At some point, you stop letting people in. You can care about me all you want, but you will never actually know me.”

The words hit like a slap to Harley’s face.

He sucked in a sharp breath, pausing for a second. Something in his chest twisting painfully. “Wow.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t meant to say that. Like he knew he’d just crossed a line.

Harley let out a quiet laugh, but it lacked any real amusement. “Alright. Cool.” He took a small step back, suddenly tired. He felt like he was going to start crying. “Go ahead, then. Run off. Seems like your solution to all your problems. Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

Peter didn’t say anything. He just turned around and left the room.

Harley stood there for a moment, chest tight, then let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. Ugh.

  -

Peter stalked down the hall, his stomach twisting with guilt, but his anger still bubbling. He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t meant to hurt Harley. But all he could feel in that moment had been defensiveness. Just like he had with the argument with his dad. Because of course Harley didn’t get it. No one got it. Harley was the first person to find out his identity. He hoped Harley didn’t tell their parents. He wouldn’t do that, right?

His feet carried him straight to the kitchen. He hadn’t even realized he was hungry until now. He grabbed a bowl and some cereal, moving quickly as he poured the milk. He was focusing on the task so hard that he didn’t notice Harley following him in until he heard footsteps behind him.

He stiffened but didn’t turn around.

Harley didn’t say anything, but Peter could tell that he was there, he could hear his brother’s quiet breaths. He expected another argument, expected Harley to push the conversation further, but instead, his brother just lingered near the entrance of the kitchen, hovering.

  -

Harley didn’t know why he followed Peter, but he did. As they walked by, he saw that his parents were sitting in the living room, talking quietly, but now, Tony was watching them closely, brows furrowed.

“What happened?” Tony asked, directing the question at Harley.

Harley exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. He wanted to follow Peter, wanted to fix whatever had just happened between them, but he also didn’t seem to know how.

“Nothing,” Harley muttered. “I just- need to talk to him.”

Tony didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push too hard. “Harley, wait-”

“Not now, alright?” Harley said, already moving toward Peter again.

Peter, meanwhile, had grabbed his cereal and turned to leave the kitchen, making it very clear he didn’t want to talk. He moved past Harley without a word, heading straight for his room.

Harley hesitated, watching him go, before finally letting out a sigh and turning back to Tony and Pepper.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”

Harley ran a hand down his face. “Yeah.”

Tony exchanged a look with Pepper before focusing back on him again. “Give him time.”

Harley nodded, but he didn’t think that time was going to do anything for him.

When Harley went to try to talk to him again, he found that Peter had locked the door behind him.

  -

About an hour later, Tony stood outside Peter’s door, knocking lightly. “Hey, kid, you okay in there?”

Silence.

He sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “Look, I have no idea what happened, but I know that if you’re shutting yourself in your room, it can’t be good.” He paused.

Still nothing.

Tony tapped his knuckles against the wood again. “Alright, well, just so you know, if you’re in there fuming, just know that Harley’s pacing around looking like a kicked puppy, so whatever went down, it’s hitting both of you pretty hard.”

A few seconds passed, and then, finally, there was the sound of the door unlocking.

Peter didn’t open it all the way, just enough for Tony to see his face, red-rimmed eyes avoiding his. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.” he muttered.

Tony nodded, stepping inside the dark bedroom. “Noted.”

He didn’t sit on the bed. That seemed a little too invasive. Instead, he leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “Ya know, I wasn’t kidding about Harley. Kid looks miserable. So do you.”

Peter looked away, his hands tucked under his armpits. “He started it.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Did he?”

Peter glared at his feet as if they were the problem. “It doesn’t matter. He probably hates me now.”

Tony huffed a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, because that’s super logical. The kid who was hyped beyond belief to have you back, who’s been glued to your side for the past two and a half weeks, definitely hates you.”

Peter didn’t respond, just picked at his fingernails.

Tony sighed. “Look, people fight. It’s normal. You and Harley are gonna go at it sometimes, it doesn’t mean everything’s ruined.” He stared at him, though Peter wouldn’t took back at him. “Trust me, if it did, I wouldn’t have a best friend.”

Peter finally glanced at him. “You and Rhodey?”

Tony smirked. “Oh yeah. We’ve had some of the dumbest fights on the planet. One time, we didn’t talk for a week because I ate the last of the pecan pie his mom let him bring home from Thanksgiving dinner. Thought he was gonna commit murder.”

Peter’s lips twitched, but he didn’t fully smile.

“Point is,” Tony continued, “you don’t give up on the people you love just because you had one bad argument.” He nudged Peter’s foot with his own. “And Harley? He loves you more than anything in the world, kid. He’s just as freaked out about losing you as you are about… whatever’s going on in that head of yours.”

Peter looked in Tony’s direction for a second, before looking away again.. “I just… I don’t like fighting.”

Tony continued looking at him, his head tilting understandingly. “I know, bud. But sometimes it happens. You guys will figure it out.”

For the first time since the door opened, Peter looked him in the eyes. “You really think so?”

Tony gave him a lopsided grin. “I know so. I mean, if Rhodey still puts up with me, I think that you and Harley are gonna be just fine.”

That finally got a small laugh out of Peter, and Tony took that as a win. He reached out, ruffling the kid’s hair. “You gonna be okay?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah.”

Tony patted his shoulder. “Alright. Just don’t stay locked in here, alright?”

Peter rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t actually annoyed.

As Tony walked toward the door, he paused, looking back. “Hey, kid?”

Peter glanced up.

“You ever need to talk about anything, I’m here, okay?”

Peter gave a small smile, then nodded. “Okay.”

Just as Tony was about to close the door behind him, Peter spoke up.

“Wait, dad? Um… when am I gonna meet Rhodey again?”

Tony paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow. “What, you got a schedule to keep?”

Peter huffed. “No, I just- it sounds cool. And he’s your best friend, so… I dunno, I just thought I’d ask.”

Tony smiled at the kid. “Yeah, he is cool. You’ll like him.” He leaned against the doorframe. “He’s tied up with some military stuff for a few weeks, but trust me, he’s very excited to meet you.”

Peter smiled a little at that. “Really?”

Tony snorted. “Kid, he’s been blowing up my phone since he found out you were alive. He’s very excited.”

Peter smiled, and Tony nodded at him. “Alright, get some sleep. And no more locking us out, yeah?”

Peter rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. “Yeah, yeah.”

Peter threw a pillow at him, but Tony ducked, laughing as he slipped out the door.

  -

The next morning, Peter was still curled up under his blanket when a knock came from behind his door. He groaned into his pillow, debating whether he wanted to answer it or pretend he was still asleep.

Harley answered for him by letting himself in anyway.

Peter didn’t turn to look at him. “Ever heard of waiting for permission?” He said sleepily, maybe a little grumpily as well. 

Harley ignored the jab, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he said, voice unusually soft. A huge difference from the usual sarcasm and inability to take things seriously. (Huh, kinda like Tony??) “I was being a jerk last night.”

Peter rolled over to face him, his expression unimpressed. “Yeah, you were.”

Harley huffed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I was scared, alright? That’s why I acted like that. I just- seeing you jump out a window like that, it freaked me out.”

Peter sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. “I get that. But it’s not like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Do you, though?” Harley shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Because, no offense, but you’re fifteen, and have no backup.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his eyes. He didn't want another arguement. “Look, I’ve had these powers for a few months now. I know my limits. I know how to handle myself.”

Harley gave him a skeptical look but didn’t push. Instead, he tilted his head. “Alright. Then explain it to me. How did you even get these powers?”

Peter hesitated for a moment before answering, “Radioactive spider.”

Harley blinked. “You’re kidding.”

Peter shook his head. “Nope. Got bitten, and a few days later, I woke up being able to- well- do all of this.”  He stuttered as he gestured at himself. “Super strength, speed, reflexes. My body literally sticks to walls. It was a lot to deal with at first.”

Harley let out an impressed huff. “And no one else knows? Just me?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Nobody knows. Not Ned, not MJ, not May or Ben. I wasn’t planning on telling anybody. We both know how mom and dad would react to that.”

Harley snorted. “Yeah, I think they’d wrap you up in bubble wrap and hide you away in the tower forever.”

Harley paused before his eyes lit up excitedly. “Wait a second. The webs, are they, like, biological or did you make them?”

Peter immediately scrunched up his face. “Ew, no.” He made his way over to his desk, grabbing one of his web shooters and tossing it to Harley. “I built these.”

Harley caught it, inspecting the sleek design with wide eyes. “Dude. You made this?”

Peter smiled. “Yeah. Took me a while to get the formula right, but once I did, the mechanics weren’t too hard.”

Harley looked up at him with a mixture of awe and amusement. “You’re such a nerd.”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment. I told you I liked to tinker. I couldn’t actually tell you what I make though.” Peter responded with a smirk.

Harley laughed, then grew a little more serious. “Okay, but why? I mean- I get that you have these powers, but why put yourself in danger? Why are you Spider-Man?”

Peter swallowed, suddenly his nose started to burn, but he kept his tears back. He stared down at his hands, picking at his fingers. “Because I have to.”

Harley frowned. “What do you mean?”

Peter exhaled shakily. “If you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then bad things happen… they happen because of you.”

Harley didn’t interrupt, just let his brother talk.

Peter’s voice grew quieter. “I blame myself for what happened to May and Ben.”

Harley’s head snapped up. “Peter…”

“I could’ve stopped it.” Peter pushed on, his voice cracking. “The guy scared Ben, and he- he tried to protect me. And I just… froze. If I had done something, they might still be here.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. “This is the first time I’ve actually had a chance to grieve. I didn’t before, because I had to survive. I had to keep moving. But now-” His caught his breath from his ramble. “Now it’s hard. And whenever I say anything to mom or dad about them, it just makes them sad. I know that they aren’t happy that someone else raised me.”

Harley hesitated before scooting closer. “Peter, that’s not your fault. You don’t have any control over how your body reacts to trauma.”

Peter shook his head. “I had the power to stop it, and I didn’t.”

Harley put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “That wasn’t your fault. The guy who did it. That was on him. Not you.”

Peter let out a shaky breath. “Then why does it feel like it is?”

“Because you care.” Harley said simply. “And because you don’t ever want it to happen again.”

Peter swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. I guess that’s why I do this. Don't want it to happen to anyone else.”

Harley nudged him lightly. “Well, now that I know, you better believe I’m gonna be keeping an eye on you. And if you ever get in over your head, I’m telling Dad.”

Peter let out a wet laugh, wiping his eyes. “No promises.”

Harley rolled his eyes but squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “I got you dude. Always.”

Peter took a deep breath and then looked up at Harley, smirking slightly. "Okay. I just told you my deepest, darkest secret. Now it’s your turn."

Harley raised an eyebrow. "What, you wanna know about the time I accidentally set my hair on fire trying to take apart the toaster?"

Peter laughed. "Tempting, but no. I wanna meet Cooper. And I wanna see you ride."

Harley’s smirk widened. "Oh, you are not ready for my skillz."

Peter snorted. "Skillz? With a z? Wow. Alright, let’s go then."

Harley jumped up, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his jacket. They walked out into the kitchen, still talking, Peter listening as Harley explained that he had a huge competition in a few weeks.

"It’s gonna be one of my biggest.” Harley said, grabbing a banana from the counter. "No pressure or anything."

Peter nodded. "Sounds cool."

"Yeah, well, let’s hope I don’t eat dirt in front of a bunch of judges."

Peter chuckled and turned to the stove, grabbing some eggs. "Want breakfast before we go?"

Harley perked up. "You cook?"

"Yeah, well, when you’re left home alone for days at a time, you figure it out."

"I’m sorry." Harley said, looking sad that his brother had to go through that.

“Its fine. What kind do you want?” Peter asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. He hadn’t meant to bring it down in the first place.

“Whatever’s easiest.” Harley responded, putting on his hoodie.

Peter rolled his eyes but grinned as he started making scrambled eggs and bacon for both of them. They were nearly done when Tony walked into the kitchen, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Well, look at you two getting along." he said, looking at Peter and winking before tuning his attention to Harley.

Harley grinned. "Yeah, I’m taking Peter to meet Cooper. Gotta show him all our skillz."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "With a z? Oh boy."

Peter smirked as he plated their eggs. "Yeah, apparently I’m about to be amazed."

Tony chuckled, watching them with an affectionate look. "Alright, go have fun. But no broken bones, please.” He paused, then added “Or laws."

Harley gave him a mischievous grin. "No promises."

  -

Peter and Harley left the kitchen, still chatting about random stuff and snickering about their dad'd reaction as they stepped outside. The air was cold and crisp, but not too bad. Winter was fading into spring. The city surrounding them as they walked to the stable where Harley kept Cooper. It was actually quite a walk, but he still enjoyed it. He'd been pretty cooped up lately. 

As they walked, the conversation flowed easily.

“So,” Harley said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets to keep them warm. “I still have, like, a million questions about the whole Spider-Man thing.”

Peter sighed dramatically. “Of course you do.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not every day your twin brother turns out to be a literal superhero.”

Peter side-eyed him seriously, before his smile broke through. “Kay, what do you want?”

Harley grinned. “What’s it like? Having powers?”

Peter was quiet for a moment as he thought about the question. “It’s… weird I guess.” he admitted. “At first, it was terrifying. I was super sick for like- a week, and then I woke up one morning, and suddenly everything was super super loud, way too bright, just- I guess all my senses were terribly dialed up, but I guess I got used to it. My reflexes were off the charts, I could stick to walls… Hmph, I thought I was losing my mind.”

Harley whistled. “Awe, so no cool training stuff? Just straight to freaking out?”

“Oh, there was definitely lots of stuff.” Peter said, shaking his head. "Very embarrassing, very painful ones. Lots of running into walls, breaking things by accident, I tried to open a door normally once and ripped the handle off.”

Harley cackled like an evil villain. “Please tell me there’s footage.”

“Unfortunately, no.” Peter sighed dramatically. “Such a shame..” He said sarcastically.

They walked in silence for a few moments before Harley nudged Peter with his elbow. “So, is it, like… nice? Having someone know?”

Peter thought about it.

It wasn’t like he had never considered telling someone before. There had been moments when he had almost cracked, holding everything to himself. But he had always stopped himself, always convinced himself it wasn’t worth the risk. He had the responsibility to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves, otherwise, why would he have gotten bit and given these powers? That power gave him responsibility, and he couldn’t just quit. It would be selfish. Besides, he loves being Spider-Man.

Now, though…

“Yeah.” he admitted. “It is.” He glanced at Harley. “I’ve never really gotten to talk about it before. How it feels, what it means. It’s hard. It’s just been me, trying to figure things out alone.”

Harley nodded, not pushing, just listening.

Peter exhaled. “So, yeah. It’s nice. And hey, one less person I have to lie to.”

Harley clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, I feel honored. Also, now I have exclusive rights to give you crap when you do something stupid.”

Peter groaned. “Wonderful.”

Harley just grinned.

By the time they reached the stables, Peter had almost forgotten where they were headed. But when Harley led him through the entrance, the strong scent of hay and feed filled the air.

“Welcome to my second home.” Harley announced, waving his arms dramatically around. The stable was large and well-maintained, rows of stalls stretching down either side, the occasional noise of a horse breaking the quiet.

Peter looked around, impressed. “Fancy.”

“Only the best for Cooper.”

Harley led him toward one of the stalls and opened the door? Gate thing?

Peter peered in and immediately understood why Harley spoke about Cooper like he was a person. The horse was beautiful. He was white with speckles of brown and beige, maybe even some red in his coat, freckled with darker spots. One of his eyes were blue, one brown. His big eyes intelligent, full of mischief, and the moment he spotted Harley, his ears perked up.

“Hey, bud!” Harley said, stepping inside the stall and running a hand down Cooper’s neck. The horse huffed, nudging him, and Harley laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I took forever.”

Peter watched with an amused smile. “So this is the famous Cooper.”

“The one and only.” Harley patted Cooper’s shoulder before looking at Peter. “Wanna say hi?”

Peter hesitated. He had never been around horses before, and Cooper was big. But he stepped forward, holding out a cautious hand.

Cooper sniffed at him, then, seemingly satisfied, bumped his nose against Peter’s palm.

Peter blinked. “Oop-”

Harley grinned. “Congrats. He likes you.”

“Was there a chance he wouldn’t?”

“Well.” Harley tilted his head. “There was a small chance he’d decide you were an alien threat and try to take you out.”

Peter turned his hand back to Harley. “What?”

Harley laughed. “Kidding! Mostly.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

Harley grabbed a saddle and bridle, getting Cooper ready. As he was tightening the strap, a voice called out.

“Hey, Harley!”

Peter turned to see a girl about their age approaching. She had long brown hair pulled into a ponytail, dressed in riding gear, and was giving Harley a look.

Harley looked over, getting visibly nervous. “Oh- Hey Megan!”

She glanced at Peter, curiosity in her green eyes. “Who’s this?”

Harley hesitated for half a second too long, clearly realizing they had not planned for this scenario. “He’s, uh… my friend.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, biting back a smirk at how awkward Harley sounded.

Megan just nodded, though she looked suspicious. (Duh, they look just like each other) “Uh-huh… Well, It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Peter said, shaking her hand.

She turned back to Harley, her hair flipping as her head moved. “You riding today?”

“Yeah, just showing Peter the ropes.” Harley said.

Megan smiled. “Cool. Welp, see you around I guess!”

She walked off, and Peter immediately turned to Harley with a teasing grin. “Soooo… Megan, huh?”

Harley groaned. “She’s just one of the guys’ sisters.”

“Uh-huh…” Peter crossed his arms. “And do you stutter that much around all ‘the guys’ sisters??” He asked innocently.

“Shut up.”

Peter smirked but let it go as Harley led Cooper to the training ring.

Once they got inside, Harley swung onto Cooper’s back with easily. He had clearly been doing this for a while. He adjusted his grip on the reins, giving Peter a confident smirk. “Prepare to be amazed.”

Peter leaned on the fence, watching as Harley guided Cooper into a trot, then a canter. He moved swiftly with the horse, his posture nice, his control easy. Then came the jumps, smooth and graceful over the obstacles.

Peter was in fact amazed.

“Alright,” he admitted as Harley slowed Cooper to a stop in front of him. “That was pretty cool.”

Harley grinned, patting Cooper’s neck. “Told ya.”

Peter tilted his head. “How old is he?”

“Seven, almost eight.” Harley said. “Had him since he was a little baybyye.” He drew out the word with a high pitch, leaning forward to hug Cooper around the neck. It was like he was treating him like a dog, a very loyal best-friend kind of dog.

Peter frowned. “Wait. So… you had him when you were-”

Harley nodded, expression shifting slightly. “Yeah. When I was with uh- her.”

Peter hesitated. “She let you have a horse?”

“She got him for me.” Harley said, voice and face unreadable. “She was… kind, in her own way.”

Peter didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t sure what to say. Because a part of him, one he wasn’t proud of, felt bitter that he had gotten the short end of the stick.

Harley had been kidnapped, too. But he had a home. A person who cared enough to get him things and sort of show him love. Meanwhile, Peter had lost everything. Including his trust in adults, which honestly, he never really got back. He was still super hesitant about trusting people or getting close to anyone.

But before he could dwell on it, Harley suddenly hopped down from Cooper’s back and smirked. “Your turn.”

Peter blinked at his brother dumbly. “What.”

Harley led Cooper over. “Come on. Time to prove if Spider-Man has any balance outside of walls.”

Peter held up his hands. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

Harley grinned. “It’s fine! Cooper’s great with beginners. I use him to teach little kids all the time.”

“That was an unnecessary jab.”

Harley grabbed a mounting block. “Up you go.”

Peter groaned but stepped onto the block. With Harley’s guidance (and a lot of nervous muttering about how he hadn't signed up for this), he swung into the saddle.

“Feet in the stirrups.” Harley instructed.

Peter did, gripping the reins more tightly than necessary.

Harley started leading Cooper in slow circles, and Peter tried not to freak out.

“Relax,” Harley said, laughing. “You’re not gonna die.”

“How do you know?”

Harley rolled his eyes and, without warning, let go.

Peter tensed. “What are you doing!?”

“Letting you ride.”

“I don’t know what to do!”

Harley smirked. “Guide him with the reins. Gentle, like you’re steering a bike.”

Peter hesitated, then cautiously tugged the left rein gently. Cooper turned.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Harley grinned. “There ya go.”

Slowly, Peter got the hang of it. And once he wasn’t convinced he was about to fall to his death, it was actually kind of… fun.

After a few minutes, he pulled up beside Harley. “Okay. That was cool. But I’m done before my luck runs out.”

Peter slid off Cooper’s back with Harley’s help, his legs a little wobbly as he landed. “Okay, yeah, that was terrifying.”

Harley scoffed. “Terrifying? You’ve fought bad guys, jumped off buildings, and swung through the city hundreds of feet up, but a horse is what freaks you out?”

Peter patted Cooper’s neck as the horse nudged him. “I know how to control my webs. I do not know how to control a giant animal with a mind of its own.”

Harley snorted. “Fair enough. But you did good. Cooper didn’t even try to buck you off.”

Peter’s head snapped to Harley. “That was a possibility?!”

Harley grinned. “Not really. But your reaction was worth it.”

Peter groaned. “You suck.”

Harley just laughed as he took Cooper’s reins and led him toward the center of the ring. “I’m gonna exercise him a little more. You can sit on the fence and admire my superior horsemanship.”

Peter shook his head but climbed onto the fence, watching as Harley guided Cooper through a series of smooth, controlled movements. He had to admit, it was impressive. The way Harley moved with Cooper, the trust between them, the skill’z’.

Peter found himself smiling.

It had been a long time since he had done something so… normal. Since he had just hung out, laughed, and let himself relax. Honestly, the past week had been probably the best he’d had in his life so far. He was back with his family, he had Harley, he wasn’t carrying Spider-Man completely oh his own anymore. Honestly, he was pretty happy.

There was still a lot more though. Things he had to deal with. The grief of May and Ben, fixing things with Ned, keeping his identity secret from anyone else.

Harley and Cooper finished their routine, and Harley rode back over, still looking smug. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how impressed are you?”

Peter pretended to think. “Mmm… solid six.”

Harley gasped, pretending to be offended. “Six?! That was at least an eight!”

Peter smirked. “Eh, I’ve seen better.”

“Liar.”

Peter grinned. “Kay fine, you’re right that was at least an eight. Maybe a nine..”

Harley hopped down and led Cooper back toward the stable. Peter followed, the two of them falling into easy conversation again.

“So, do you have any friends?” Peter asked.

“A few,” Harley said, loosening Cooper’s lead. “I mean, people are more focused on riding when they come, but there’s a couple nice people.”

Peter smirked. “Ah, so Megan, then?”

Harley shot him a glare. “No.”

Peter just grinned.

Once Cooper was unsaddled and settled, Harley leaned against the stall. “Alright, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day. Ice cream?”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “That’s random.”

Harley shrugged. “Not really. There’s a place a couple blocks from here. Best ice cream in the city.”

Peter tilted his head. “I dunno, I’ve had some pretty good ice cream.”

Harley smirked. “Challenge accepted.”

Peter rolled his eyes but followed as Harley led the way out of the stable.

As they walked, the sun had started dipping lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the streets.

Peter found himself warm and happy, even with it being so cold.

For so long, he had been running. Hiding. Keeping his distance from people, afraid of what would happen if he let anyone in.

But with Harley, it was easy.

Maybe he didn’t have to run anymore. Maybe he could let people in.

And that thought scared him more than any fight ever could.

  -

As they walked down the street, finishing their ice cream, Harley stretched with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Alright,” he said suddenly. “New round of questions. And before you complain, too bad.”

Peter groaned. “Seriously? How many questions do you have?”

Harley grinned. “A lot.”

Peter sighed but gestured for him to go on. “Fine. What?”

Harley took a dramatic pause, then asked, “Do you ever get, like… scared? Not just in a ‘this is dangerous’ kind of way, but in a ‘what am I even doing kind of way?”

Peter hesitated for a second before nodding. “Yeah. All the time.”

Harley glanced at him, actually looking serious for once. “How's that?”

Peter exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I guess I just push through it. I remind myself why I have to do this. If I don’t, people get hurt.”

Harley frowned, kicking at a stray rock on the sidewalk. “That’s a lot for one person, Pete.”

Peter gave a small smile. “Yeah. But I’m used to it.”

Harley didn’t look satisfied with that answer, but he let it slide. Instead, he smirked again.

“Okay, okay, follow-up, Have you ever had a moment where you were like, ‘Yeah, this is it, I’m done for?”

Peter’s smile faded slightly. “More than once.”

Harley noticed the shift and nudged him lightly. “Any that you actually wanna talk about?”

Peter sighed. “I guess that there was this one time, couple weeks in, when I tried to stop a car chase. The guy had a gun, and I knew it was coming, but I wasn’t in a position to dodge. Got shot in the leg.”

Harley’s expression darkened. “Dude.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I guess I just had to crawl onto a rooftop and just… hope I didn’t bleed out? Put pressure on it and got back to my apartment. Stiched it up myself. My enhanced healing took care of it.”

Harley looked genuinely disturbed.

Peter shrugged. “It happens.”

Harley shook his head. “No. That’s not normal, Peter.”

Peter gave him a small smile. “Well, neither am I.”

Harley was quiet for a moment before sighing. “You need backup.”

Peter snorted. “What, you volunteering?”

Harley was serious. “Yeah. I mean- not me I guess, but I’m going to be here whenever you need help. I’m not kidding. I will send dad so fast you won’t even-

“Harley, no. I don’t want dad involved.” Peter said.

Harley glared at him. “Kay, well, if things get bad, you don’t have any choice. I'd rather you hate me than you dieing. If you die, I will murder you.”

Peter just shook his head, smiling as they kept walking, the city buzzing around them.

  -

As they finished their ice cream, Peter was still chuckling at the idea of Harley as his sidekick. (Harley had suggested the crazy idea.) It was ridiculous. But at the same time, it was… nice. Nice to have someone to joke about this with. Nice to not feel like he was carrying it all alone. He’d never had that before.

Harley wiped his hands on his jeans as they walked. “Alright, we better head back before Dad gets all antsy. Plus we have the whole Avenger’s dinner thing.”

Peter nodded in agreement, tossing his napkin into a nearby trash can. “Yeah, wouldn’t want him sending a search party. Let alone of the search party was the Avengers.” He laughed.

The walk back was nice. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm golden glow over the city, and the cold air. They kept talking about random things, Peter told Harley about some of the weird things he’d seen swinging around the city, Harley told Peter about the time he accidentally made a homemade rocket that almost caught fire on his school’s football field, getting him detention for a week. (Harley sure did set a lot of things on fire, huh?)

By the time they made it back to the apartment, the scent of something delicious cooking filled the air.

“Smells like dinner’s almost ready.” Peter said as the elevator door dinged open.

Before he could even step all the way inside, a blur of red and brown barreled into him.

“Peter!” Morgan squealed, practically launching herself at him.

Peter, with his senses, had time to react before he was catching her, stumbling back dramatically. He laughed as he steadied them both. “Hey, Morgs.”

Morgan grinned up at him. “Where’d you guys go?”

“Got ice cream and went to see Cooper.” Harley answered as he slipped his shoes off, revealing some black socks.

Morgan gasped dramatically. “Without me?”

Peter smiled. “You were busy.”

Morgan pouted but then perked up. “Dinner’s almost ready! Come on! People are gonna start getting here and mommy says you guys are going to be stinky.”

They both rolled their eyes and shared a look.

She tugged Peter and Harley toward the kitchen, where Pepper was stirring something on the stove while Tony leaned against the counter, sipping what was probably coffee.

“Hey, you two!” Pepper greeted, giving them both a quick once over before hugging each of them. “How was you guys’ day?”

Harley grinned. “Well, I got to show Peter what real talent looks like.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You mean, I got to see you show off.”

“Same thing.” Harley shot back. Then he smirked. “Oh, and by the way, Peter was totally scared to get on Cooper.”

Peter groaned. “Really?”

Pepper raised an amused eyebrow. “Oh, were you?”

Morgan turned to him, eyes wide. “You were scared?”

Peter felt his face heat. “I wasn’t scared, I was just… cautious.”

Harley snorted. “You practically turned into a ghost.”

Morgan patted Peter’s arm sympathetically. “It’s okay. I was scared my first time too.”

Peter sighed heavily as everyone laughed. “Great. Thanks.”

Tony laughed, reaching over to ruffle Peter’s hair. “Don’t worry, kid, I'm scared of him too. I'd rather my feet on the ground or in my suit, thank you.”

Peter grumbled but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. It was embarrassing, sure, but it was also nice to be a part of their laughter and teasing.

  -

Peter had been silently dreading this all day.

When Tony had told him that the Avengers were coming over for dinner the day before, he had felt his stomach twist with anxiety. He’d barely managed to handle meeting Steve and Natasha the first time, now he had to meet even more of them? All at once? That sounded like some kind of torture plan.

And yet, here he was, sitting all tensed up on the couch as his enhanced hearing picks up the sounds of voices growing louder, probably heading up the elevator now. He could hear the distinct sound of Steve’s voice, Natasha’s calm but amused replies, and someone else laughing, definitely a man, but Peter didn’t recognize who.

His knee bounced anxiously as he tried to prepare himself. A moment later, the door swung open, and in walked the Avengers.

There were so many of them.

Peter felt his chest tighten, and he held his breath.

Steve walked in first, carrying a casserole dish with something light yellow inside? Maybe macaroni? Some other kind of pasta? He greeted Tony like an old friend. Natasha was next, cool and composed, her eyes sweeping the room before landing on Peter. She gave him a small smirk, like she already knew exactly what was going through his head.

Behind them came a man with a metal arm, Bucky Barnes. His blue eyes locked onto Peter briefly before moving on, scanning the room much like Natasha had.

Next was a man wearing a baseball cap and an easy smirk, Sam Wilson, also known as The Falcon. Peter watched as he nudged Steve and said something that made the super soldier roll his eyes.

Clint Barton followed, hands shoved in his pockets, looking comfortable, or maybe Peter was just freaking out, considering the way he felt like he was about to pass out.

Then there was Wanda Maximoff, also known as the Scarlet Witch. She was smiling softly, but something about the way she looked at Peter made him feel like she could see straight through him.

And finally, Bruce walked in, looking slightly uncomfortable but giving Peter a small smile.

Peter felt completely overwhelmed. His fingers curled into the fabric of his jeans. There were too many people, too many eyes on him. His chest felt tight, and the room suddenly seemed way too small.

Before he could even think about making an excuse and running for his room, someone plopped down on the couch next to him.

Harley.

"Y'know, you could try not looking like a deer in the headlights." Harley whispered, just loud enough for Peter to hear.

Peter shot him a glare. "Dude, shut up."

"Love you too, buddy." Harley said cheerfully before turning to the group. "Alright, let’s get this over with before Peter here dies of stress. Everyone, this is Peter. Peter, this is everyone.”

Peter groaned. “Thanks for that.”

Sam snorted. “Thanks Harley.” He responded sarcastically.

Tony smirked. “Yeah, he’s real special.” He honestly couldn’t tell if that was directed towards Harley for being obnoxious, or towards Peter.

Peter sank lower into the couch, feeling heat turn his face pink.

Everyone said hello to him, telling him their names, even though he already knew what they were.

After a few minutes, Bruce sat down across from him, adjusting his glasses. "Tony mentioned you were into science."

That immediately got Peter’s attention. His anxiety didn’t disappear, but it dulled a little as he nodded. "Uh, yeah. I really like engineering and chemistry."

Bruce’s expression warmed. “You into any specific fields?”

And just like that, Peter forgot about his anxiety for a moment.

They started talking. Peter found himself actually sort of enjoying the conversation as he and Bruce nerded out over research. Bruce actually listened to him, nodding along and offering insights Peter hadn’t considered before. It was... nice.

The tension in Peter’s shoulders slowly calmed, and before he knew it, he wasn’t thinking about how many people were in the room or how many eyes were on him. He was just talking.

The others let them go on for a bit, but eventually, Sam interrupted with an exaggerated groan.

"Okay, okay, we get it, you two are nerds," he teased. "Let the rest of us get to know the kid, huh?"

Peter huffed a small laugh but leaned back in his seat, letting them take over.

"So, Peter," Clint started, leaning back in his chair. "What do you do for fun? Any sports?"

Peter shook his head. "Uh, no. Asthma and bad eyesight kinda ruled that out for me."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly noting the glasses he wasn’t wearing, but she didn’t say anything.

"Fair enough." Clint responded. "So, what then? You a music guy?"

Peter shrugged. "I mean, I like music, I'm in band, but mostly I do academic stuff. I’m on my school’s academic decathlon team."

That got a reaction.

Sam smiled. "Dang, a nerd and a half, huh?"

"Definatly Tony's kid." He heard Nat say from were she was sitting on the end of the couch.

Peter groaned. "I walked into that one."

"You really did." Wanda said, smiling.

Harley patted Peter on the back. "C’mon, tell them the rest of it. He’s also in the robotics club."

Peter shot him a betrayed look. "Dude."

Harley just smirked. 

"Robotics, huh?" Bruce said, clearly impressed. "What kind of projects have you worked on?"

Peter hesitated before answering. "Uh, I guess all kinds of stuff. We do competitions and build different prototypes. Right now, we’re working on a mechanical arm with advanced articulation. Well- we were, I don’t know what they’re working on now. I start back on Monday. "

"That’s pretty cool." Bucky muttered, flexing his own metal fingers.

Clint grinned. "So, basically, if we ever need a new arm for Barnes, we know who to call."

Peter choked on his drink, and Harley cackled evilly beside him.

The teasing continued throughout dinner. They poked fun at him in the way family did, affectionate, welcoming, making sure he knew he belonged. It was weird, he had only met them an hour ago, and they already felt like aunts and uncles, siblings even.

And despite his initial panic and how overwhelmed he was with how many people were not only in the room, but all trying to get to know him, Peter found himself enjoying it.

But his neck did prickle every once in a while, and he’d look to see one of the spies or Wanda looking at him like they knew something. It was like Wanda could see past the act. Did she know? No way, he'd been careful.

And Natasha and Clint? They were watching him too. Not in a bad way, but in the way spies did when they were assessing something they hadn’t quite figured out yet.

Peter tried not to let it get to him. Of course they didn’t know. How could they?

By the time dinner ended and people started heading out, Peter was completely drained. He slumped onto the couch, closing his eyes for a moment.

Tony sat down next to him, nudging him with his shoulder. "That bad?"

Peter sighed. "No," he admitted.

Tony smirked. "Told you so."

Peter cracked an eye open. "You’re so annoying."

"Yeah, but you love me."

Peter groaned, but the corner of his mouth twitched up slightly.

He had to admit… It hadn’t been that bad. It might actually be fun to get to know them. But he would use his usual caution, and not let himself get too close to anyone, for fear of what might happen to them, and how it would effect him.

  -

After dinner, as Peter was helping clear the table, Tony came up to him.

“Hey,” he said quietly, so only Peter could hear. “The Parker’s apartment is ready whenever you want to go through it. If you want to go through it.”

Peter froze for a second before forcing himself to nod. His good mood dropped a little, and he stared down at the plate in his hands.

Tony must have noticed the shift because he quickly added, “You don’t have to do it alone, kid. We’ll all go if you want.”

Peter swallowed, then looked up at him. “That… actually sounds nice.” He said slowly. “Plus, you guys would get to see where I was raised.”

Tony nodded, his expression soft. “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll pay rent until its all sorted out.”

Peter nodded, then busied himself with putting the dishes away.

Not long after, he decided to ‘turn in for the night’. He stood up, stretching. “I think I’m gonna head to bed early.”

Harley smirked knowingly. “Awe, all that horsin’ around wear you out?”

Peter shot him an annoyed warning look. “Shut up.”

Harley just grinned.

Peter rolled his eyes, saying goodnight to everyone before heading to his room. This time, he made sure to actually lock the door behind him.

He changed quickly, pulling on his suit. He walked to the window, opening it quietly. The city stretched out before him, lights flickering like stars below.

With one last glance back, Peter shot a web and swung out into the city.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Peter woke up to the soft voices outside his room. His family was in the kitchen, he heard Morgan’s giggles and his parents planning their day. The house was certainly awake.

Today was Saturday, the day that they were going to the Parker’s apartment.

He stared at the ceiling, the blankets pulled up to his chin. He wanted to see the apartment, to get it over with, but the thought of clearing of having to clear out the place he thought of as home for a little under six years, just made him sad. This was real. May and Ben are gone, and he’d never see them again. And it’s your fault.

A knock at the door made him jump. “Peter?” Tony’s voice called from the other side of his door. “Can I come in?”

Peter hesitated before sighing. “Yep, you’re good.”

The door cracked open, and Tony stepped inside, his usual smirk replaced with a serious searching gaze. He sat on the edge of the bed, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this, y’know.”

Peter swallowed. “Yes I do.”

Tony nodded, watching him carefully. “You don’t have to do it alone at least.”

Peter looked away. “I know.”

A moment of silence. Then Tony pulled him into a hug, one hand running through his curls.

He shut his eyes and melted into it. This was exactly what he needed.

“I got you, kid.” Tony said quietly. “We all do.”

Peter took a deep breath. “Thanks dad.”

  -

After breakfast, they got in the car, and Peter tried not to overthink.

Pepper reached back from the front seat, squeezing his hand.

Morgan was curled up against his side, her tiny arms wrapped around his left. It was a little uncomfortable because she had to lean over her booster seat, but it was sweet that she was trying to comfort him.  “You okay, Petey?”

Peter smiled a little. “Yeah, Mo. I’m good.”

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes that patched his and Tony’s. “You sure?”

Peter hesitated. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Morgan smiled and hugged him even tighter.

Harley, sitting on his other side, raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Didn’t think you were the affectionate type, Pete.”

Peter shot him a look. “Shut up.”

Harley smirked, flicking Peter’s elbow. “There he is.”

Peter huffed a small laugh.

  -

When they got to the apartment building, Peter hesitated outside the door that lead to May and Ben’s apartment. Tony stood beside him, everyone else behind them.

Peter took a deep breath and unlocked it before stepped inside.

It smelled the same. For whatever reason, he hadn’t expected that.

The same faint scent of old books and May’s vanilla scented candles, mixed with the oldness of the apartment itself.

Morgan clung to his hand as they walked in, her voice quiet. “It’s nice.”

Peter felt like he was about to start crying. “Yeah. It is.”

Harley nudged him. “You good?”

Peter nodded.

Tony placed a hand on his back, guiding him forward so that everyone else could get around him. “Take your time, kid.”

  -

They moved through the apartment slowly. Peter showed them the kitchen, the living room, cracking jokes to keep the mood light, and to keep himself from curling into a ball and crying.

Then they got to his bedroom, making Peter hesitate in the doorway.

It was like he had never left. The bed was still messy, blankets half-falling off the side. His old books for school were stacked on the desk, the walls still had posters of space and science, things that had always fascinated Peter, even when he was young.

And on the shelf, his old stuffed animal. A floppy, well-loved, a little gross, brown dog.

He swallowed and reached for the stuffed animal. The fabric was soft and familiar. Ben had gotten it for him for his ninth birthday.

Tony stepped beside him, glancing at the toy. “What’s his name?”

Peter huffed a laugh. “Benny.”

Pepper smiled. “Uncle Ben?”

Peter nodded, his grip tightening on the toy.

Before he could say anything else, Morgan suddenly wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his side.

Peter blinked, surprised.

Then Pepper hugged him from the other side, and then Tony, wrapping his arms around both of them.

Peter barely had time to breathe before Harley joined in just loving the group hug.

“You guys are suffocating me.” Peter mumbled, voice thick, though he loved it.

“Shut up and take the love.” Tony muttered.

Peter let out a wet laugh and wrapped his arms around his mom, who was the only one he could reach because she had hugged him so that he was a T-rex with the tiny arms. He closed his eyes, letting himself be surrounded by his family.

  -

They spent the next few hours looking through old things, photo albums, school papers, drawings. Oh- and packing, that too.

At some point, Peter sat on the floor with Morgan in his lap, flipping through a book of old pictures.

“That’s you?” Morgan asked, pointing at a photo of him and May, covered in cake frosting from May’s birthday. At that point, he had gotten pretty comfortable with the Parker’s, so when May had smudged some on his nose, he smudged some on her cheek, and it had turned into a full blown cake fight.

Peter groaned. “Unfortunately.”

Harley snorted. “Awe, a beautiful moment of you proving that cake belongs everywhere except your mouth.”

Peter threw a pillow at him.

Pepper smiled teasingly “I’ve never tried that form of skincare! Cake mask, so refreshing… and sticky..” Her face scrunching with disgust at the thought.

Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Tony ruffled his hair. “You love us.”

Peter sighed dramatically. “Yeah. I do.”

Tony squeezed his shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

Peter hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

It hurt, but it wasn’t the same, aching, empty kind of hurt he had been carrying for years.

It was different now, and the difference was that he wasn’t alone.

  -

After Peter gives his family the rest of the tour and they all share some teasing and comfort, as well as questions about what things mean or why they are where they are.

He heads back to his old bedroom, taking his time packing up things that meant a lot to him. His Legos, figures that Ned had given him over the past year, some of his tools, and extra Spider-Man supplies he had stashed away. It’s tricky to get to the Spider-Man stuff with everyone hovering, but he does end up getting it.

He also finds old photos, trinkets, and a few pieces of clothing that still fit.

When he’s done, he hesitates at the door to May and Ben’s room. For a few moments, he just stands there, unsure if he should even go in. Tony notices and gently puts a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze but not pushing him.

Peter finally steps inside. The room is exactly how they left it. There was still the lingering scent of a lavender candle, and the way the bed is still neatly made, like they were just about to come back.

They never would. He would never see them again, and it was his fault. No matter what Harley said, he still blamed himself for May and Ben’s deaths. He could have prevented it.

Slowly, he walks through, running his fingers on one hand over the smooth wood of their dresser, looking for small keepsakes. He carefully picks up May’s favorite hat, the one he made for her their first Christmas together, holding it tightly It still smelled like her shampoo. He finds Ben’s old watch, the one Peter used to play with when he was little, pretending he was a secret agent. He takes a framed photo of the three of them at Coney Island, back when he was just around ten, sitting on Ben’s shoulders, laughing as May held onto them both.

At some point, his breath starts to grow uneven, and he doesn’t realize he’s crying until Pepper steps inside and wraps her arms around him. She doesn’t say anything, just holds him as he lets the tears stream down his face.

He eventually pulls himself together, wipes his eyes, and gathers the things he wants to take. When he walks out, Tony just ruffles his hair lightly with a small smile, asking if he was ready to go.

  -

By the time they left, the sky was starting to turn pink as the sun set.

As they got in the car, Harley stretched. “So. Ice cream?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Tony sighed. “I already know the answer, don’t I?”

Morgan gasped. “ICE CREEAMM!”

Peter snorted. “Guess we’re getting ice cream.”

Tony glanced at Peter in the rearview mirror. “You feeling alright, kid?”

With a small smile, he nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

Tony grinned. “Told you so.”

Peter groaned. “You always have to say that, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

Pepper kissed the top of Peter’s head. “We’re proud of you, Peter.”

Peter ducked his head, ears burning. “Thanks mom.”

Harley smiles at him with this weird sappy look, and then leans his head on Peter’s shoulder for the drive to go get ice cream.

  -

When they got back to the Tower after getting ice cream and dinner at some restaurant in Queens, Peter carried his boxes into his room, carefully setting them down beside his bed. The space was sleek, modern, and way bigger than the room he’d had before. It was nice. It was safe. But it wasn’t home. At least, not yet.

Peter took a deep breath and crouched down, opening the first box. The first thing he pulled out was a small stack of framed photos, the glass cool against his fingers. The one on top was his favorite. It was a picture of him and May at a park on a picnic blanket when he was nine. She had her arms around him, laughing, while he tried (and failed) to eat an entire hot dog in one bite. It was stupid, but it was perfect.

He found a place for it on the wall next to his desk. Then, one by one, he set out the rest. A picture of Ben with his arm slung around May, both of them smiling at the camera. One of him, Ned, and MJ piled together in a goofy selfie, their decathlon medals still hanging around their necks. He even had an old polaroid from when he was about eleven, sitting between May and Ben, while May made bunny ears behind him.

Then came the smaller things, his tiny collection of action figures, which he lined up on a floating shelf near his desk. Most of them were Star Wars, though he had a couple of Iron Man ones too. (If Tony ever found out, he’d never let him live it down.)

Next were the Legos. Peter carefully set up the Death Star first, placing it exactly how he remembered from his old shelf at the apartment. It made him smile, remembering all the nights he and Ned had spent putting it together. He could almost hear Ned’s voice going on and on about Star Wars lore while MJ sat on his bed, pretending not to care while secretly enjoying their enthusiasm. He couldn’t wait to see them. He still needed to apologize to Ned.

He ran his fingers over the model, feeling the familiar ridges of the bricks.

His clothes were easy to unpack, most of them were shoved into drawers without much thought. The things that really mattered, though—his tools, his extra web fluid, a few notebooks filled with doodles and ideas, those got a special spot in his desk.

He had his new Spider-Man stash, he would shove his suit and other gear into an old backpack, and then shove it into the vent, far enough up the wall that nobody could reach it without a ladder. (Except him, because he was sticky.)

And then, at the bottom of the last box, he found May’s hat.

It was soft and well-worn, the fabric still faintly smelling like her. He held it for a moment, his chest tightening, before placing it on the shelf next to one of his Lego sets.

Finally, he turned to the last few things he’d taken from May and Ben’s room.

Ben’s old watch, the color faded and a small crack on the glass from years of wear. Peter placed it on his desk, running his fingers over the chipped glass before stepping back.

May’s all-time favorite book, creased and ripped in places from how may times she read it. He hesitated before tucking it onto the bookshelf near the door. Maybe he’d read it.

And finally, a small ceramic figurine of a cat May had kept on her nightstand for as long as he could remember. It had been something he always associated with her room, tiny but it was always there. He didn’t even know why it was so special to her. He set it next to the hat, making sure it wouldn’t tip over.

When he finally stepped back and looked around, something in him felt warm having things that were familiar to him laying around his room.

It wasn’t the same as the apartment. It never would be. But now, this room didn’t feel so empty. It felt like his.

A knock at the door made him turn, though he had hear them approaching, he hadn’t known if they were going to go past his door or not. Clearly not.

"Hey, kid?" His dad’s voice came through, quiet. "You still up?"

Peter rolled his eyes but smiled. "Yeah, come in."

The door opened, and Tony stepped inside, eyes flicking over the room. He took in the pictures, the Legos, the scarf on the chair. His gaze lingered on the old baseball cap, but he didn’t say anything.

Peter sat cross-legged on the floor beside a half-unpacked box, running his fingers over the cardboard distractedly.

Tony lowered himself down beside him with a quiet grunt. "You good?"

Peter nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think so."

Tony tilted his head. "That wasn’t exactly a confident answer."

Peter huffed a small laugh. "No, I mean it. I just…" He glanced around again, at all the little pieces of his past that had settled into the room. "It’s weird. But it helps."

Tony’s expression softened. "Well that’s good."

Tony reached over, nudging the brim of Ben’s cap. "This his?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. He used to wear it all the time."

Tony nodded, expression unreadable. "He seems like he was a good guy."

Peter swallowed, suddenly feeling like he was about to start crying. "He was."

A beat of silence. Then, Tony glanced over at him. "You know, it’s okay to take your time with this stuff. Making a place feel like home isn’t something you have to do overnight."

Peter nodded. He knew that.

Tony ruffled his hair before standing up, stretching. "Alright, kid. You want food? I was thinking of ordering something, those sandwiches at the ice cream place weren’t exactly filling.”

Peter snorted, pushing himself up. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll come eat." Peter never turned down some food. It was his metabolism speaking.

As they left the room, he took one last glance around. It still wasn’t quite home, but it was getting there.

  -

After dinner, Peter stretched out on the couch, feeling comfortably full from the Thai takeout. The Tower still didn’t quite feel like home, but having everyone around, laughing, teasing, just being a family, was helping.

He had decided to go hang out in his room, today had been super emotional and kind of a lot for Peter. He kind of just wanted to be on his own for a little bit.

His room was still filled with a few half-unpacked boxes, but he wasn’t in a rush to deal with them. He’d done enough packing and unpacking for today.

He pulled out a book and settled onto his bed, laying down for the first time that day. He and Harley started back at school tomorrow, and he was actually super excited about something normal. A schedule, Friends, Homework.

He was halfway through a chapter when there was an obnoxious knock on his door. Before he could answer, Harley’s head popped in.

“Yo, are you busy?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “You already opened my door, so I’m assuming you don’t actually care about the answer.”

Harley grinned unapologetically. “Wanna play video games?”

Peter didn’t hesitate before closing his book and hopping off the bed. “Oh yeah.”

Harley led the way across the hall to his room, tossing Peter a controller as soon as they stepped inside. “Let’s see if you still suck. Last time was disappointing.”

Peter caught the controller easily, rolling his eyes. “Oh, you’re on.”

They sat on these puffy camping bags that trapped air in them, they were the shape of bean bags. The games were quickly getting competitive. The usual teasing started up almost immediately, Harley calling Peter’s tactics weak, Peter reminding Harley who had actual enhanced senses.

At a break between rounds, Harley stretched before standing up. “I’m grabbing a drink. You want one?”

“Dr Pepper please, thanks.”

Harley nodded. “Knew you were gonna say that. Be right back, don’t you dare start without me.”

Peter leaned back against the bag, twirling the controller in his hands as he waited. His eyes scanned around the room, seeing some little details he hadn’t really noticed before.

Harley returned a minute later, two sodas in hand. He cracked his open, plopping down on the bed beside Peter, only for the can to fizz over immediately.

“Shoot!” Harley scrambled, trying to keep the sticky soda from dripping onto his controller. “Uh- Peter, can you grab some tissues? They’re in my nightstand drawer.”

Peter nodded, setting his own controller down as he got up. He pulled the drawer open, eyes immediately landing on the tissue box inside.

And then he saw what was next to it, and it make him gasp quietly,

Right next to the tissues, half-buried beneath a couple of random papers, was a tiny green dinosaur keychain.

Peter’s fingers hovered over it for a second before carefully picking it up. He turned it over in his palm, barely breathing.

He knew this keychain. It used to be his. He had given it to Harley the night that they had gotten separated.

He had been six, and it had been his favorite little toy for some reason. One of those cheap stuffed ones, green with a yellow belly and a small splotch of pink sewn in that was supposed to be blush. It was well loved and dirty from being clutched in his hands all the time when he was little. Just a few minutes before they were separated, not to see each other again for eight years, Peter had pressed it into his brother’s palm, saying, “Here, you can have him until I come back.”

He hadn’t thought about it in years. He hadn’t let himself. He didn’t want to get attached to the idea of a family he could never have. But apparently, he could have that family, and it was better than he imagined.

Harley had kept it. All this time.

“Hey, what’s taking so long?”

Peter turned, still holding the keychain as Harley looked over.

The second he saw what was in Peter’s hand, Harley froze.  The playfulness faded from his face, replaced by something softer, sadder.

Peter looked at his brother. “Is this-?”

There was a pause before Harley nodded. “Yeah.”

Peter looked down at the tiny dinosaur in his hand. “You… you kept it?”

Harley exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I- uh, I dunno. I guess I just… never wanted to let go of it. It reminded me of you.”

“I used to hold onto it whenever I missed you.” Harley admitted. “Which was, y’know, a lot.”

Peter sat still, feeling guilty.

Harley had missed him. All these years, Peter had thought his family had just… moved on. But they hadn’t. They had looked for him.

They had never stopped missing him.

He clenched his teeth together, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I’m sorry.”

Harley frowned. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter repeated, voice all up and down. “For all of it. For not knowing you were looking for me. For-” His voice cracked before he tried again. “For hurting you.”

Harley shook his head, stepping closer. “Peter you didn’t-”

Peter looked up at him, eyes burning. “I love you dude.”

Harley’s expression softened. Peter had never said it first before.

Peter wrapped his brother in a hug. Not the playful, roughhousing kind, but a real, I’ve-got-you kind.

Harley didn’t hesitate before hugging him back. Peter was the one initiating contact. He had only done that one other time.

Harley squeezed the back of his hoodie, voice muffled in the hood of Peter’s said hoodie. “I love you too, man.”

They stayed like that for a few seconds, just holding onto each other.

Eventually, Peter pulled back. Harley cleared his throat, trying to shake off how emotional that just got. “Well, uh, That got deep fast.”

Peter huffed a quiet laugh, wiping at his eyes. “Yeah.”

Harley glanced at the forgotten game on the screen. “Kinda don’t feel like playing anymore.”

“Me neither.”

Harley flopped onto his bed, stretching out. Peter hesitated for a second before sitting down on the end. They just sat there talking about random stupid things before they ended up falling asleep.

At some point, their voices grew quieter, more tired, conversation started growing further apart, until it was quiet. Eventually, they both drifted off.

Peter ended up curled at the edge of the bed, half on top of the blanket. Harley was sprawled out on his pillows, snoring quietly.

  -

Tony knocked on Peter’s door, waiting for some kind of response. When none came, he knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing.

Frowning, he pushed the door open. The room was empty. The bed was still neatly made, looking completely untouched since the day before. Tony’s stomach dropped.

He quickly checked the connecting bathroom, but it was empty too.

Great. Had Peter snuck out again? He’d just started trusting that the kid wasn’t going to pull that kind of thing.

Tony ran a hand over his face, exhaling through his nose. Okay. Think.

If Peter wasn’t in his own room, there was one other place he might be.

Tony turned on his heel and made his way down the hall to Harley’s room. He knocked once before pushing the door open. As soon as he saw him, he immediately felt his shoulders relax. Peter was there.

He was sprawled across the edge of Harley’s bed, tangled in the blanket, one leg dangerously close to slipping off the mattress. Harley, meanwhile, was sleeping at the opposite end, his head buried in a pile of at least three pillows, arms thrown out in every direction.

Tony huffed out a quiet breath, shaking his head.

Walking over, he gave Harley’s shoulder a small shake first. “Rise and shine, kid.”

Harley groaned, attempting to burrow deeper into his pillows.

Tony rolled his eyes before nudging Peter next. “Pete, you too. C’mon, up and at ‘em.”

Peter mumbled something incoherent before blinking up at him, eyes squinted from sleep.

Tony smirked. “Mornin’ sleepy head.”

Peter groaned, stretching slightly before freezing as he realized just how close he was to falling off the bed. He quickly scrambled upright, shooting a halfhearted glare at Harley, who still looked about two seconds from falling asleep again.

Tony clapped his hands together. “Alright, you two get ready for school. I’m making breakfast, so hurry it up before I eat it all myself.”

Peter yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

Tony gave him a small pat on the head as he turned toward the door.

Shaking his head fondly, Tony headed for the kitchen, leaving them to wake up properly.

  -

By the time Peter finished getting ready, he was much more awake. He ran a hand through his still damp hair as he walked into the kitchen, where the smell of bacon and eggs filled the air.

Tony was standing at the stove, flipping the last few strips of bacon onto a plate. “There you are.” he said, giving Peter a quick grin. “Thought you were gonna sleep through breakfast.”

Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing a plate. “Not a chance. I smelled the bacon.”

“Smart kid.”

Harley was already slumped at the table, staring blearily at his food like it had personally wronged him.

Peter snickered as he sat down. “You good there, bud?”

Harley grumbled something that nobody could translate and stabbed at his eggs.

Tony smirked, dropping into his own seat with his coffee. “Don’t take it personally. Harley doesn’t have a personality before nine a.m.”

“Mmfh.” Harley mumbled through a mouthful of bacon.

Conversation flowed easily between bites of food. Tony asked Peter about his classes, what teachers he had this semester, and Peter told him in between bites of toast. He told him about Mr. Harrington, who was always losing things (whether that may be a pen, or a student…), and how Coach Flemming ran gym class like it was basic training. That earned a laugh from Tony, and a huff from Harley.

Harley, for his part, remained half-asleep, only making grumbling sounds every now and then when Tony or Peter said something to him.

Peter smirked as he reached for another piece of bacon. “You sure he’s actually awake? He looks like he’s sleep eating.”

Harley shot him a sleepy glare. “I hate you.”

Tony just sipped his coffee. “Yeah, yeah, eat your eggs.”

A few minutes later, Tony’s phone buzzed on the counter. He picked it up, read the text, and sighed. “Alright, Happy’s here. You’d better go before he gets grumpy.”

Peter shoved the last bite of toast in his mouth and grabbed his bag, giving Tony a quick hug before heading to the elevator. He didn’t notice, but it made Tony smile. Peter had never been the one to initiate physical contact with him before.

Harley trailed behind him, still half-asleep.

When they reached the garage, Happy was leaning against the side of a sleek, black car, arms crossed. He barely looked up as he grumbled, “Morning.” before immediately opening the back door for them and shutting the divider as soon as they got in.

Peter huffed a quiet laugh as he leaned back against the seat. He didn’t know why, but Happy’s grumpiness was kinda funny. The way he just grumbled out his greetings and immediately shut himself off from them, like a grumpy chauffeur in some over the top spy movie.

Smiling to himself, Peter rested his head against the cool window.

  -

As the car pulled up to the school, Peter felt his excitement dissolve into a knot of anxiety. The building, which had once been a familiar place, now felt threatening. So many things could happen.

Harley, on the other hand, was perfectly fine, confident as always. Peter wished he could have that level of confidence. But unalike Harley, he had been taught all his life that it was better to be quiet, to be seen, not heard, and he had never really gotten any comfort for anxiety, choosing to hide it from May and Ben.

Harley on the other hand, was practically bouncing in his seat. "Dude, you ready for this? We’re gonna make a grand reappearance and blow everyone's minds."

Peter forced a small smile. "Yeah, sure."

Even Happy, who was typically gruff and impatient in the mornings, turned around from the driver's seat and gave Peter a look. "You'll do good, kid. Don’t stress yourself out."

Peter huffed out a small laugh. "Wow, Happy, giving me a pep talk? I must look really bad."

Happy grumbled something under his breath and hit the button to unlock the car door. "Get out of here. Learn things. Try not to cause trouble. Shoo."

Peter stepped out of the car, the cool morning air was not helping with the nerves creeping up his spine. Harley put a hand on his shoulder as they walked towards the school. "C'mon, it's just school. And you've got me. You’ll be fine."

Peter nodded even though he wasn’t sure he actually believed it.

The moment they stepped inside, they blended in with the crowd. Harley led the way to their lockers, which, unsurprisingly, were right next to each other.

"Gee, I wonder who arranged that?" Peter muttered, glancing at Harley, who only grinned.

Peter rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small smile that tugged at his lips. He started pulling books from his locker, listening to Harley ramble about how he was going to blow everyone's minds in physics class.

Before he could say anything else, his senses prickled with the familiar tingle of incoming danger. Peter turned on instinct, expecting to dodge a shove from Flash, only to be tackled by two familiar figures instead.

"PETER!"

Arms wrapped around him tightly, knocking the air out of him. For a second, Peter froze, his brain catching up to the fact that it was Ned and MJ clinging to him, not some threat he had to dodge. Then he finally moved, hugging them back just as tightly.

Over Ned’s shoulder, he spotted Harley watching with an amused smile.

"Dude, you’re okay!" Ned pulled back, his eyes wide with relief. "Man, I was so scared! I mean, you disappeared, and then we find out you’re a Stark?!” He whisper yelled the last part, before adding in a frustrated tone, “And you were homeless? Bro, why didn’t you tell us? We would’ve helped!"

Peter swallowed guiltily. "I’m sorry. I didn’t know you guys knew. I didn’t even know my family was looking for me."

Ned shook his head. "Dude, I would never have given you up if I didn’t know they were actually your family, and that they were looking for you. You know that, right?"

Peter hugged Ned again. "Yeah. I know."

As soon as he let go, MJ punched him hard in the shoulder. "Never- NEVER- do that again."

"Ow!" Peter yelped, dramatically rubbing his arm. "What was that for?!"

"You scared us so bad, dude!" MJ snapped. "You go missing for almost a week, then we find out you’re a freaking Stark?!” She lowered he voice at the last part, just like Ned had. “And you were living on the streets? What the actual hell, Peter? Why didn’t you come to us? We’re your friends, you’re supposed to trust us!"

Peter winced but couldn’t help but smile at her concern. "Aw, I care about you too, MJ."

She punched him again. "You’re still a loser."

Harley snorted. "Okay, I like her."

Both Ned and MJ’s attention turned to Harley.

“You transferred here? Thought you went to some fancy rich people school.” MJ said with a raised eyebrow, apparently not bothering with any pleasantries.

Harley rubbed his neck with a small smile. “Yeah, that wasn’t really my thing. I just wanted to find some genuine friends, and spend more time with Peter.”

MJ didn’t respond, just nodded, apparently accepting that response.

The bell rang, and they all started heading to their classes. Peter and Harley quickly realized they had every single class together.

They exchanged a look.

"Dad." they both muttered at the same time, before laughing.

"Guess you're stuck with me now." Harley said, nudging Peter’s shoulder.

Peter rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small, genuine smile that crept onto his face.

Yeah. Maybe he didn’t hate that idea.

  -

Lunch at Midtown had always been chaos. If Peter, Ned, and MJ wanted to keep their usual booth in the back corner of the cafeteria, only two of them could leave to get food at a time, or someone else would swoop in and steal their spot. That was just how things worked.

“So, me and MJ first?” Harley asked, already sliding out of the booth.

“Yeah, sure.” Peter said, stretching out in his seat next to Ned. He was actually enjoying the day so far. Seeing his friends again had been awesome, and Harley was fitting in with them like he’d always been there. It almost felt normal.

Peter leaned against the booth’s cushioned back, fiddling with a napkin while Ned scrolled on his phone. They were talking about some new Star Wars stuff when Peter felt an all-too-familiar tingle crawling up his spine.

Before he even turned his head, he knew that it was Flash.

“Hey, Parker!” Flash’s voice dripped with sarcastic sweetness as he walked up to the table, hands in his pockets like he owned the place. “Wow. Thought you got expelled.”

Peter exhaled loudly through his nose. “Nope. Still here.”

Flash’s smirk widened. “Really? Huh. That’s weird. ‘Cause, y’know, one day you’re here, the next, poof! Gone. Thought maybe the school finally realized what a waste of space you are.”

Peter kept his eyes on the table, unwilling to give Flash the reaction he was looking for.

“Or- wait!” Flash said, tapping his chin in dramatic thought. “Oh, did you run away? That’s what people are saying.”

Peter tensed.

Flash grinned, leaning in. “I mean, makes sense. Your aunt and uncle were killed by some mugger in a dirty alleyway, and suddenly you disappear? Was life just too hard, Parker?”

Ned shifted beside him. “Hey, back off, Flash.”

Flash sighed dramatically, as if Ned was interrupting their ‘conversation’. “Oh, c’mon Leeds. I’m just trying to have a chat with him.” He turned back to Peter, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “So, where’d you go? Sleeping on park benches? Begging for food? Bet that was pathetic.”

Peter clenched his fists under the table but said nothing.

Flash frowned at his lack of reaction. He wanted a show. And when he didn’t get one, he decided to escalate the situation.

“Y’know, if you needed money so bad, you should’ve just asked. I mean, not from me, I don’t give handouts, but I’m sure someone would’ve taken pity on you. Maybe.”

Peter clenched his teeth together, his face heating up. He could feel eyes on them now. People were starting to listen. He was incredibly embarrassed.

Flash, seeing his opportunity, smirked wider. “Actually, I’m surprised you came back at all. If I were you, I would’ve stayed gone.”

That did it.

Ned jumped to his feet. “Shut up, Flash!”

Flash barely glanced at him. “Mind your own business, Leeds.”

Then, before Peter could react, Flash grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the booth, sending him sprawling onto the cafeteria floor.

A wave of laughter and whispers rippled through the students around them. Only some though. Others watched with concern or pity on their faces, but nobody stood up for him.

Peter blinked, kind of shocked. He hadn’t expected Flash to pick up where they left off so soon.

Flash stood over him, quietly laughing. “Wow. The little orphan, so smart with all those accomplishments, and yet you still hit the ground like a loser. I suppose that proves that academic accomplishments don’t matter.” Flash teased, with a fake pouty lip. He honestly looked like a three-year-old who was about to throw a tantrum.

Peter felt his face burn, he felt absolutely humiliated. He lifted an arm instinctively to block whatever Flash was planning next, because once Peter was on the ground, Flash would usually get a few hits in. Peter sure wasn’t going to do anything about it. He wasn’t going to risk his identity over Flash.

“What the hell?”

Peter barely had time to see what was happening before Flash was being yanked backward by the shoulders. The smug expression on his face disappeared instantly as he turned and found himself staring at Harley Stark.

Harley’s glare could’ve melted steel. Peter would hate to be on the opposite end of that look. It was honestly terrifying.

“What makes you think you can talk to people like that?” Harley demanded, his voice sharp and very angry.

Flash’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

Harley Stark.

Defending Peter Parker.

This was not part of Flash’s calculations.

“I- uh- he- I-” He just gave up and shut his mouth.

Before Flash could try and defend himself like he always did (and peter would always let him), MJ appeared behind Harley, her expression just as, if not more terrifying than Harley’s. She didn’t hesitate before punching Flash right in the lip.

A few people around them who had been watching, gasped.

Flash stumbled back, wiping his sleeve over his lip. “What the- Jones, you are so going to regret that-”

MJ shook out her fist like she was barely impressed with his pain level. “Oh, shut up. You deserved that.”

The tension broke when a teacher rushed over. “What is going on here?!”

Peter scrambled to his feet, shaking his head quickly. “Nothing.”

The teacher narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Parker, you were just on the ground-”

“It’s nothing.” Peter repeated, cutting off whatever Harley was about to say. “I just tripped.”

Harley turned to him sharply. “Peter-”

“It’s fine.” Peter said, his voice firm, his face screaming shut-up-or-else.

The teacher sighed. “Fine. Thompson, other side of the cafeteria. Now.”

Flash, still freaked out that he had been caught, pressed his sleeve to his bleeding lip again and speed walked away, glaring at Peter over his shoulder. Great. This definitely wasn’t going to be the end of it.

Peter sighed and slid back into the booth. Ned followed immediately, while Harley and MJ sat across from them.

Peter put a hand over his eyebrow, hiding his face from everyone else at the table. His elbow on top of said table. He was mortified. He felt heat crawl up his neck, knowing people were still staring. Could the ground just open up and swallow him? Please?

Harley, however, was absolutely not having it. “Why did you lie?”

Peter exhaled, voice warning. “Drop it.”

“No. You should’ve told the teacher what really happened!”

“Yeah, and what would that do?” Peter shot back. “Make it worse?”

Harley’s face scrunched up. He clearly didn’t understand. “Maybe it would stop him from pulling that crap again.”

Peter shook his head. “No, it won’t.”

Harley raised his eyebrows ready to argue. “Peter-“

Peter slammed his fork onto his tray. “Just stop, Harley! Things like this have happened to me my whole life. Just because you show up doesn’t change anything. If you could just drop it, I would appreciate it.” Peter snapped.

Silence.

Harley stared at him, his expression more frustrated and knowing than hurt, but it was there.

Peter sighed through his nose and quietly got up from the table. “I forgot something in my last class. I’m gonna go get it.”

No one stopped him.

  -

The car ride home was silent at first.

Harley sat with his arms crossed, staring out the window, his teeth clenched together. Peter, on the other hand, was slouched low in his seat, his hood pulled up like he was trying to disappear into it. There was a lot of tension.

Harley wouldn't say they were arguing, exactly. It wasn't like that. It was just that he had seen something today that made his blood boil, something he knew was wrong, and he wanted- no, needed to put a stop to it.

But Peter thought it was somehow fine, and honestly, that made Harley even angrier.

It wasn’t fine. It was so far from fine that it made him want to storm back into that school and deck Flash all over again (Thank you for that by the way, MJ).

When they had climbed into the car, Happy had barely looked up from his phone, simply muttering, “Hey, kids.” before rolling up the partition. Which was fine. Harley wasn’t in the mood for company right now.

The silence stretched on for a while, the only sounds coming from the hum of the engine and the occasional honk from traffic. Harley drummed his fingers against his knee, trying to organize his thoughts, trying to pick the right words, ones that Peter wouldn’t just brush off or shut down.

Eventually, he took a deep breath and turned his head slightly toward Peter.

“Why are you letting that happen to you?” he asked, his voice quieter than he expected.

Peter didn’t even look at him.

Harley clenched his jaw and tried again. “Why don’t you defend yourself?”

Still nothing.

Harley exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay calm, to keep his voice even. “Peter, you have the means to. So why?”

Peter sighed and finally turned his head, though his gaze remained fixed out the window. “Harley, just drop it.”

“No,” Harley said defiantly. “I won’t. Because that? What I saw back there? That wasn’t okay.”

Peter let out a laugh, and it didn’t even seem to be fake. Like he actually thought it was funny that Harley would be concerned about something like this. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Harley repeated, skeptically. His voice raised slightly before he evened it out again, taking a deep breath. “Peter, that guy pulled you onto the floor in front of the whole cafeteria! He was going to hit you if I hadn’t pulled him off! That is a big deal!”

Peter slouched in his seat. “I’ve had worse.”

“That doesn’t make it okay! That literally just makes this worse.” Harley snapped. He wouldn’t just let this slide.

Peter rubbed a hand over his face before finally meeting Harley’s eyes.

Peter sighed. “If I couldn’t stop them before,” he said, voice quiet but heavy, “what right do I have to stop them now?”

Harley blinked, thrown off by his words for a second, before replying, “What?”

Peter shrugged, his hands resting stopped twisting together a sat limply in his lap. “Taking a hit is easier than pretending I have the right to fight back.”

Harley’s breath caught in his throat. What? Would he ever know what Peter had really been through?

Peter was still talking, still staring at the window. “Besides, I can take it.” he said simply. “I heal quick. Other people don’t.”

Harley’s stomach twisted again.

Peter turned back to him then, face unreadable. “I’m not going to brush Flash off onto someone else.”

Harley frowned. “What?”

“I have a responsibility.” Peter said, voice more certain now. “And I’m not going to use what was given to me to protect people, to hurt someone else who didn’t do anything wrong.”

Harley reeled back like he’d been slapped. What!?

“Didn’t do anything-” He cut himself off, trying to put together words to tell his brother how stupid he is being. “Peter, are you serious? Of course he did something wrong! He’s bullying you! What part of that is okay?”

Peter flinched slightly but shook his head. “It’s not that simple. He’s a kid, like us. He doesn’t deserve his life destroyed over teasing.”

“Yes, it is that simple!” Harley exploded, unable to contain his frustration. “Yeah, he’s a kid like us, but do you see us going around throwing people on the floor? He’s treating you like crap for no reason, and you’re just letting him! Why? Because you think you deserve it?”

Peter didn’t answer. And that silence was the loudest confirmation Harley had ever heard.

Anger swirled around him. Anger at Flash, anger at the school, anger at the world for letting Peter believe something so wrong. Harley swallowed, forcing himself to lower his voice.

“How would you feel if I was getting bullied and didn’t do anything about it?”

Peter’s head snapped back to look at him again. “That’s different.”

Harley narrowed his eyes. “How?”

Peter faltered, mouth opening and closing before he finally muttered, “Because you wouldn’t just take it. Besides, you aren’t like me.”

Harley knew what he meant, but it still made him sad that those last words were said with disgust. 

Harley scoffed. “You’re right. I wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t either.”

Peter exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into his own voice. “Harley, you don’t get it. If I fight back, it’s just gonna make things worse.”

Harley shook his head. “No. It’s gonna make him realize he can’t treat you like that.”

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly done with the conversation. “Just drop it, Harley.”

“No.”

Peter tilted his head up, irritated. “Harley-”

“I won’t drop it.” Harley cut in, firm. “Not until you promise me you won’t let that keep happening.”

Peter groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Why do you care so much?”

Harley just looked at him sadly. “Because you’re my brother.”

Peter blinked, clearly caught off guard. Harley didn’t let up. “And because I know you. I know you’d do anything to protect other people, but you won’t even lift a finger to protect yourself.” He shook his head. “That’s not okay, Pete.”

Peter exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping. He looked down at his hands, silent for a moment.

Harley let the silence sit, hoping that his words were sinking in.

Finally, Peter sighed. “Fine. I won’t let Flash keep treating me like that.”

Harley sat up a little straighter, cautiously hopeful. “Yeah?”

Peter gave him a pointed look. “If you don’t tell anyone. Especially not dad.”

Harley hesitated. He really didn’t like that condition. But the alternative was Peter continuing to just take it without ever standing up for himself. And that was worse.

“…Fine.” Harley said reluctantly. “Deal.”

Peter let out a small, laugh. “You’re annoying.”

Harley smirked. “You love me.”

Peter rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. He was glad to have Harley.

Chapter Text

The Avengers rarely held meetings over something as small as a single vigilante. But lately, whoever was calling themself ‘Spider-Man’ was getting harder and harder to ignore. He was gaining a lot of popularity, and people were starting to ask them questions that they had no idea the answers to.

It had started with whispers, stories about some masked dude running across rooftops, swinging around and taking down criminals in Queens, but then the videos started popping up all over social media. Blurry pictures, shaky camera footage from people who happened to glance up and see the small-time hero, flipping and twisting through the air with crazy strength and accuracy.

And then, recently, Cho had told them that he had saved her, and that had been the tipping point apparently.

So now, the Avengers sat around the conference table on the 76^th floor of the Tower, debating, arguing really, about what to do with the guy.

“He’s just a kid, no older than twenty five.” Nat said, arms crossed, expression frustrated. “We should leave him alone.”

“Should we?” Steve asked, leaning forward slightly, brows furrowed. “Because from what I’ve seen, he’s strong. He’s showing up more.” He glanced at Cho, who sat off to the side, observing the conversation patiently. “And if he saved you, that means he’s not just stopping small-time criminals anymore.”

“Not necessarily.” Bucky said.

“He pulled a man out of a wrecked car last week.” Sam added, sitting back in his chair. “Bare-handed. Ripped the door clean off.”

Clint raised his eyebrows. “That’s more than your average friendly neighborhood vigilante if you ask me.”

“Noone did ask you, birdbrain.” Tony said, he had been staring at a holographic projection of some of the footage. He suddenly leaned back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

Steve shot him a look. “You’re saying we shouldn’t?”

Tony shrugged. “I’m saying if the kid wanted to make a big deal out of himself, he would’ve done it by now.” He tapped at the hologram, zooming in on the shaky image of a red-and-blue blur swinging between buildings. “Looks to me like he’s trying to stay low profile.”

“Low profile or not, he’s still got powers.” Bruce pointed out, arms folded on the table. “That makes him our concern.”

Nat still looked frustrated. “God, you sound like Ross.”

Bruce frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You know, ‘people with powers should be monitored,’ ‘no one should operate outside the system’ the whole ‘Sokovia Accords’ thing?” Nat made vague air quotes. “Just saying, not everyone with abilities needs to be reined in. He hasn’t done anything but help people so far.”

“Right, because you were so keen government oversight.” Sam said dryly.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “You really wanna have that debate right now?”

“Not particularly.” Sam said.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we focus, please?”

“Look.” Steve said, regaining control of the discussion. “I get what you’re saying, Nat. I do. But we’re not talking about a guy in body armor or a vigilante with some martial arts training.” He gestured at the hologram. “This guy has super strength. We don’t know how strong, we don’t know how fast. We don’t know why he’s doing this. We don’t even know if he’s human.”

“He’s human.” Cho spoke up for the first time, looking a little amused. “I was close enough to tell.”

“Still enhanced, though.” Bruce muttered.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “And? So are you. So’s Steve. So’s Bucky. So’s Wanda. Half of us at this table qualify as ‘enhanced.’”

“She’s got a point.” Clint said. “Are we really gonna track the kid down just because he’s stronger than we think he should be?”

“It’s not just about strength.” Steve said. “It’s about control. If he’s out there stopping crimes, putting himself in the middle of dangerous situations, then someone needs to make sure he knows what he’s doing.”

Tony scoffed. “The guy seems to be handling himself just fine.”

Helen tilted her head. “That’s debatable.”

All eyes turned to her.

She smiled awkwardly. “I’m just saying… he was efficient, yes. He got me out of the situation before I was in real danger. But he was also panicked. Rushed.” She tapped her fingers against the table. “I got the impression that he’s used to working alone, but not necessarily comfortable with it.”

That caught Natasha’s attention. “What do you mean?”

Helen considered for a moment before replying. “He moved like someone who’s afraid of getting caught.”

A short silence settled over the table at that. “…Well, that’s concerning.” Sam muttered.

Bruce sighed. “Okay. Let’s assume he’s just some guy with powers who’s been operating on his own. Let’s assume he’s got no real training. And he’s starting to gain attention. What do we do about it?”

“We bring him in.” Steve said simply.

“For what?” Clint asked. “A chat? A lecture? A job interview?”

Steve exhaled through his nose. “We talk to him. Figure out where he came from, why he’s doing this, if he needs help.”

“And if he doesn’t want our help?” Tony said.

“Then we back off.” Natasha said.

Steve hesitated but ultimately nodded. “If he doesn’t want us involved, fine. But I need to know if he’s okay.”

“So it’s settled then?” Bruce said, glancing around. “We go up to him?”

There were a few reluctant nods.

“Alright.” Steve said. “We know he patrols at night. We go out this evening, find him, and-”

“-and what, Cap?” Tony interrupted, leaning forward. “We ambush him on a rooftop? Corner him in an alley?”

“We make contact.” Steve said evenly. “Nothing aggressive. Just… talk.”

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fine. Whatever. But if he flips out and webs you to a lamppost, I will laugh.”

“I’d pay to see that.” Sam muttered.

Steve ignored them, pushing back from the table. “Alright. Its settled then.”

   -

Patrol had been quiet tonight.

Peter had spent the last hour swinging across Queens, checking for anything that seemed out of place. A mugging, a carjacking, something that would make him feel useful. But for once, the city seemed to be behaving.

Not that he was complaining. Quiet nights were good nights. Nobody got hurt. (Including him, which satisfied Harley)

With nothing better to do, he swung down to Delmar’s. (In the suit of course, he hadn’t been to the bodega as Peter Parker since Tony chased him while he was homeless, and he didn’t know how he was going to deal with that, but that’s a problem for another time.)

The moment he stepped inside, the bell above the door jingled, and Mr. Delmar turned to look at him, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You again?” the old man said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Peter hesitated, lifting his hands trying to show him that he wasn’t a threat. “Uh… yeah? Unless there’s another guy running around in red and blue pajamas.”

Delmar gave him a long look before shaking his head. “You got people asking questions about you, you know that?”

Peter stiffened,  more alert. “Questions?”

“Couple weeks back. You saved some bus from getting hit by a car right outside my shop.” Delmar gave him a look. “Anyway, that was a scene. People talk, you know.”

Peter forced a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, that was a… misunderstanding. Just a big ol’ miscommunication. The driver was running from the police, so I just y’know, helped ‘em out a little?”

Delmar didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged, going back behind the counter. “Whatever you say. You want your usual?”

Peter was glad for the subject change. “Yes please.”

A few minutes later, he had his food and a bag of gummy worms shoved into his backpack, and he was back out on the rooftops, unwrapping the foil around his sandwich.

That lasted all of three bites before his hearing picked up something in the distance.

Voices. Familiar voices.

His stomach dropped.

No, no, no. There was no way.

“…telling you, he usually patrols around here.”

Peter froze. That was Steve’s voice. And his dad’s. Oh, no. no no no no. He needs to get out of here.

Heart pounding, Peter yanked his mask back down, stuffing the rest of his food into his backpack. He barely had time to figure out his escape route before a shadow moved at the edge of the rooftop.

A very large, very star-spangled shadow.

Peter straightened as literally Captain America stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest.

“So,” Steve said. “You’re the guy I’ve been hearing about.”

Peter backed up a step. “Uh, well I guess that depends. Who’s been talking?”

Steve huffed a small laugh. “A lot of people.” He nodded in Peter’s direction. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself.”

Peter shifted on his feet. “Well, ya know, Gotta keep things interesting.”

Steve gave him a look. “That’s a dangerous game to play.”

Peter forced himself to stay relaxed. “Eh. It’s Queens. Everything’s dangerous.”

Steve tilted his head slightly, studying him. Peter felt like he was being x-rayed.

Then he spoke again. “Would you be willing to come back to the Tower with me?”

Peter’s stomach twisted. “What?”

“We want to talk.” Steve said. “Figure out what your deal is. Maybe we can help.”

Peter shook his head instantly. “Nope. No thanks. I’m good.”

Steve frowned. “Kid, we’re trying to help you.”

“Oh, I know,” Peter said quickly. “And that’s great. Very noble. Gold star for effort. But I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched up. “Listen-”

“No, you listen,” Peter cut in, pointing at him. “I know how this goes. You take me to your fancy lare, ask me questions, and then, boom, my identity is blown. Yeah, no thanks.”

Steve frowned. “That’s not-”

“It’s a secret for a reason.” Peter snapped, taking a step back. “I need to protect myself. The people I care about.”

Steve sighed. “Kid, it would just be between us.”

Peter let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, because that always works out. Are we going to just ignore the SHEILD dump in ‘14?”

Steve took a step forward, and Peter took two steps back.

“Look,” Steve said, clearly trying to be patient. “We just want to make sure you’re not alone in this. We’ve got resources.”

“Oh, great! Resources. That’s exactly what I need.” Peter said sarcastically. “You know what I need? Privacy.”

Steve was looking more and more frustrated, but honestly, he could care less.

“I’m not going.” Peter said firmly.

He took another step back. He needed to get out of here.

Steve stepped forward again. Nope. That was enough of that.

Before Steve could react, Peter shot out a web, yanked his shield from his back, and in one smooth motion, webbed the man’s arm to a nearby brick wall.

Steve let out a surprised yelp as the webs tightened around him, effectively pinning him in place. He also webbed the shield to the wall right next to him.

Peter smirked under his mask.

“What is-” That was Tony’s voice.

Peter turned to see some of the other Avengers standing a few feet away, staring.

There was a few seconds of silence, then Bucky started laughing.

Then Sam, then Natasha. Even Thor looked amused.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest, smirking. “Told you.”

Steve glared at him. “Not. A. Word.”

Peter grinned, though they couldn’t see it, saluted, and shot out another web.

“I’ll see you guys never!” he called, swinging away.

He landed on the next rooftop, his super hearing picking up the laughter echoing behind him.

And Tony’s voice, smug as ever. “I warned you, Cap.”

Peter shook his head, smiling as he disappeared behind another building. Was that too close?

  -

Patrol was slowing down and he was getting ready to head back to the tower soon. Probably another twenty minutes.

Peter swung lazily between buildings, still overthinking his encounter with the Avengers.

That had been way too close.

The fact that they were even paying attention to him was already bad enough, but after tonight? He had no doubt that a few of them were suspicious. Natasha, Bucky, Clint, Wanda, they were all trained to pick up on the tiniest details. He didn’t know how much they had figured out already, but he wasn’t about to stick around and make it easier for them.

And Tony? If he had heard his real voice, if he had put together even a part of the puzzle, this could be over.

Peter shook his head, clearing those thoughts before they could spiral. He was fine. He had been careful. He had changed his voice when he talked to them. He had left as soon as possible.

Even if part of him, some small, stupid part, wondered what it would have been like to say yes. To go to the Tower with them, to have backup, to maybe, for once, not feel like he had to carry these responsibilities by himself, to have people around who understand and who can help.

But he knew better than that.

The Avengers weren’t just any group of people. They were dangerous. Not in the way that villains were, but in the way that people who cared could be dangerous. Because if they found out who he was, they wouldn’t just let it go.

And if Tony found out? That was kinda just a disaster waiting to happen.

Peter let out a long breath and glanced at his phone. Almost midnight. He should probably head back soon.

Then a loud crash split the air. Peter’s head snapped up. Across the street from Delmar’s, some ATM was getting ripped apart.

He shot out a web, swinging down low and perching himself on the side of the building across from the ATM. There were four of them, all wearing cheap plastic avengers masks and handling weapons that- Oh, crap. Those weren’t normal weapons. They were advanced. Alien? Some kind of high tech stuff.

Peter narrowed his eyes. Yeah. This was not good. Still, he could handle it. He’d figure it out.

He dropped down behind them, and leaned up against the door behind him, trying to play casual, for fun he supposes, why not mess with them? He cleared his throat before making one of his usual quips. “Sup guys, forget your pin number?”

The robbers all turned to face him, immediately getting defensive.

“Whoaah, you’re the Avengers!” Peter said, pointing at them.

Whoever was dressed up as Thor stood up and pointed a gun at him. Peter webbed the gun out of his hand, and swung it at the holder, and Captain America.

“Thor, Hulk, good to finally meet you guys. Thought you’d be more handsome in person.” Peter said as he kicked Captain America into the wall.

He stuck to the ceiling and turned around to the rest of them. Ironman tried to swing a hit at him, but Peter dodged it. “Ironman! What’re you doin’ robbin’ a bank? You’re a billionaire!” He drabbed Ironman’s fist and threw him as well.

 Things were going fine until Captain America grabbed one of those high-tech weapons and started swinging him around with it. He yelped and said “Hey! Aw, this feels so weird!” before he was thrown into hulk, poor guy. Not really.

He hardly got a chance to recover before the blue gravity thingy picked him up again. “Wha-what is that thing!?”

Captain America used the gravity thing to throw him from the ground to the ceiling up and down over and over. “I’m starting. To. Think. You’re. Not. The avengers!” He used his stickiness to stick to the floor with one hand, and with the other, he webbed a shelf and yanked it at Captain America to make him drop the weapon.

“Alright guys, lets wrap this up. It’s a school night!” He pinned Ironman to the glass and held down the gun thing. He reached for the mask, but apparently these guys are friends, because hulk shot some purple laser thing, pretty much cutting the ATM part of the building in half, and then some buildings around them. Including Delmar’s.

“No-!”

The blast slammed cut through the small shop, and the entire front exploded in a burst of fire and shattering glass.

The force of it threw Peter back, and he barely managed to twist mid air, landing hard on the pavement.

For a second, his ears rang. The world tilted.

Then he heard the crackling of fire, and the groan of a collapsing structure.

And somewhere inside he heard a voice calling out. “Help!”

Peter had heard Mr. Delmar calling the cops earlier, so he knew that the man was in his shop. He had to make sure he was okay.

Ignoring the burns along his ribs, Peter pushed himself up, rushing toward the wreckage.

“Delmar!” he shouted, coughing as smoke filled his lungs. “Where are you!?”

A voice called back. “Here!” Peter spotted him, half-buried under a collapsed shelf, eyes wide with panic.

Peter wasted no time. He pushed forward, shoving debris aside. A scared meow came from somewhere near Delmar’s feet, and Peter glanced down to see Murph huddled in a corner.

“Don’t worry, buddy, I got you.” Peter muttered, scooping the cat up with one arm. Murph immediately latched onto him, claws digging in. Peter ignored the sting.

He turned back to Delmar. “Can you move?” The man grunted, struggling under the weight of the shelf. “Not really.”

“Okay. Hang on.”

Peter grabbed the shelf, his burns stinging as he lifted it off. Delmar gasped as the weight lifted, and Peter reached down, helping him up.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Peter said.

He half-carried the older man out of the burning building, stepping carefully over shattered glass and destroyed items. Once they were clear, he helped Delmar sit against the curb.

Delmar coughed, shaking his head. “My shop…”

Peter swallowed hard, guilt twisting in his gut. “I’m so sorry.”

Delmar sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Not your fault kid.”

Peter didn’t answer.

“You okay?” Delmar asked, looking at him properly. Peter frowned. “What?”

Delmar nodded down. “You’re hurt.”

Peter followed his gaze and winced.

Oh. Right. The blast.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he could feel the burning sting along his stomach and arm. His suit was scorched in places, the fabric melted into his skin.

Great.

“I’m fine,” he said automatically.

Delmar didn’t look convinced. “You should—”

“I gotta go.” Peter interrupted. “Seriously. I just- just stay put, okay? Help should be here soon.”

He didn’t wait for a response.

Turning quickly, he shot out a web and swung off back home.

His entire side screamed in pain. By the time he made it back to the Tower, his hands were shaking.

He forced himself to go through the motions, sneaking in through his window, heading to his bathroom, getting out of his suit. The burns were pretty bad. He cleaned them as best as he could, hissing at the sting, before wrapping them in bandages.

It would heal. It always did.

Once he was finished, he collapsed onto his comfy bed, feeling exhausted.

At least it was Friday. At least he didn’t have to deal with school tomorrow. That was something, at least.

  -

Peter had been right last night when he decided that his burns didn’t need any help. He had done a good job of cleaning it, and it was already halfway healed. He decided after he woke up, to take the bandages off, because they were just irritating, and were almost healed anyways. He had woken up early that day so that he could fix his suit without getting caught.

He had just finished scarfing down breakfast when Tony strolled into the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee. Probably at least his third of the day. He ruffled Peter’s curls as he passed, then leaned against the counter, looking between him and Harley.

“So..” Tony started, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’s the plan for today?”

Peter shrugged. “Dunno.”

Harley barely looked up from his phone. “Mhm?” He said, clearly not paying attention.

Tony sighed dramatically. “You two are so boring. What happened to adventure and curiosity? Youthful energy??”

Peter snorted. “You mean chaos?”

“Same thing.” Tony said, moving his hands in a shooing motion. “Anyway. I’ve got a new project in the lab today, and I could use some extra hands. You two interested?”

Peter perked up immediately. “Really?”

Tony grinned. “Really. We’re working on an older car. I don’t remember the last time I drove it, but I thought it’d be fun to tinker with it.”

Peter practically bounced with excitement, but Harley just hummed, still scrolling. Tony flicked his forehead, still trying to get his attention.

“You can just hang out if you want.” he said. “You don’t have to tinker. The only requirement is that you help me mercilessly tease Peter.”

Harley smirked, finally looking up. “That sounds fair.”

Tony grinned and clapped his hands together. “Great. Let’s go.”

Peter all but skipped to the lab.

By the time Tony and Harley strolled in, Peter was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking over the car parked in the middle of the workshop.

Tony laughed. “Calm down, It’s not going anywhere.”

Peter barely heard him. This was awesome.

The next few hours were filled with tinkering, joking, and having fun.

Peter got under the car, wiggling further down to reach a part that his dad told him needed adjusting.

Harley, meanwhile, helped out for a little bit before settling onto the couch with his book. That was pretty much his designated spot. He wasn’t the biggest fan of tinkering, but he still liked spending time with his dad and brother, so this worked out just fine.

Peter reached his arms up as he adjusted something above him.

  -

Harley glanced up from his book, looking to see what Peter was doing now, and immediately froze.

His stomach twisted, and he felt like he was about to throw up. Peter’s shirt had ridden up.

And stretching across his torso, were burns. Huge, angry burns, deep and ugly, trailing up his side and over his arm.

Harley slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from making any noise. What the hell?

His mind raced. Where had those come from? When did those happen? Peter had been fine yesterday, hadn’t he?

He must’ve gotten them while out on patrol last night. Where else would that have happened?

Panic clawed at him, but he forced himself to stay calm. He couldn’t freak out. Not here. At least, not with dad still in the room.

Tony was still under the hood of the car, obliviously listening to the music loudly playing in the background.

Harley took a shaky breath, waiting for the right moment.

When Tony left the lab to go to the bathroom, Harley immediately turned back to Peter and whisper-yelled, “What the hell happened to you?”

Peter looked at him confused. “Nothing?”

Harley gave him a look. “Literally look at your stomach and tell me that’s nothing. What happened?”

Peter barely reacted. He just sighed, finishing his adjustments. “It’s fine.”

“Fine?” Harley whispered, annoyed. “You have freaking burn wounds all over your side, Peter! How is that fine?”

Peter scooted out from under the car, rubbing his face. “It’ll heal in a day or two.”

Harley’s jaw clenched. “That’s not the point.”

Peter frowned. “Harley-”

“Is this from last night?” Harley cut in. “Because I saw on the news that some guys with high-tech weapons hit a couple places, including some ATM near your favorite sandwich place. Where you involved?”

Peter hesitated.

That was all Harley needed.

“Oh my God.” Harley said, running a hand through his hair, trying not to lose it. “Peter, you can’t keep doing this. You promised! You told me that you would tell me things and get help when you need it!”

Peter groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t need help, and I don’t want to stress you out and have you react like this!”

Both of their voices were starting to raise, but not loud enough for Tony to hear.

“Not that bad? You’re covered in burns, you idiot!”

Peter threw his hands up. “I handled it, okay? No one got hurt-”

“You got hurt!”

Peter blinked.

“I get that you heal fast, I get that you’re tough, but you’re still human, Pete. You still get hurt. This isn’t okay, dude!”

Peter didn’t respond, just looked away, his expression a mix of guilt and frustration.

Harley continued looking at him, though Peter wouldn’t return his gaze. “You can’t keep brushing this kind of stuff off.”

Peter was about to answer when the lab door opened.

Tony strolled back in, completely unaware of the tension in the room. “Alright, what’d I miss?”

Harley and Peter both froze.

“…Nothing.” Peter said quickly.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like that’s a lie?”

Peter turned back to the car. “Dunno.”

Tony narrowed his eyes but let it go, going back to his work. He kept glancing in between them though.

Harley sat back down on the couch, holding his book but not actually reading a single word. He felt like he was gonna throw up.

  -

Later that afternoon, Peter found Harley alone in the living room.

Harley looked up as Peter sat beside him, shifting awkwardly.

Peter sighed and wrapped his arms around Harley in a quick hug.

Harley stiffened. “Dude- what?”

Peter pulled back, looking serious. “I mean it, Harley. Don’t worry. If something serious happens, I’ll get help. I promise.”

Harley looked at him, searching his face for any sign of dishonesty.

“…You better,” he muttered.

Peter grinned. “I will.”

Harley sighed, running a hand through his hair. He still wasn’t happy, but he was just gonna have to trust him.

  -

(Sunday night)

Pepper pulled up in front of a large house in the suburbs, the sound of music and laughter coming from one of the houses. She turned in her seat, smiling at her two boys. Harley sat in the front passenger seat, and Peter sat in the back, diagonal from her

“Alright, you two, have fun.” she said. “But don’t do anything crazy. Please follow the law, I know it’s a hard thing to ask.” She said sarcastically. “If you need anything, call me, and I’ll be here as soon as possible, okay?”

Harley rolled his eyes with a playful smile. “We got it mom.”

Peter just chuckled, pushing open the car door. “Thanks for the ride.”

Pepper smirked and then gave Harley a small kiss as he tried to get out of the car.

“Ewww..” Harley said, wiping where she kissed him and rolled his eyes.

“Awe, I know. It’s so hard to be loved.” Pepper said teasingly with a fake pouty lip.

Peter grinned, giving her a small wave as they headed inside.

The house was overwhelmingly crowded, music thumping through the walls. They spotted Liz almost immediately, she was standing near the front door, greeting people as they walked in.

“Oh my gosh, hey guys!” she said brightly.

“H-hey Liz..” Peter said awkwardly, earning a smirk from Harley.

“I’m so happy you guys came! There’s pizza.. drinks, help yourselves.”

“What a- What a great party.” Peter fumbled.

 Harley nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Liz smiled. “Thanks.”

Peter smiled back awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Something breaks, causing Liz to turn around, when she turns back to face Peter and Harley, she smiles apologetically. “I should- probably check on that, my parents would kill me if anything’s broken.”

Peter shifts and then nods. “Yeah!”

She turns around and walks towards whatever broke.  

They made their way through the house, eventually finding Ned and MJ in the backyard. The four of them settled into easy conversation, joking, teasing, laughing.

Harley nudged Peter. “Hey, you should go talk to Liz.”

Peter scoffed. “What? No. I already talked to her.”

“C’mon, you’ve had a crush on her for, like, ever.” Ned says, making Peter even more embarrassed. He ducked his head, his face flushing.

MJ snorted. “It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”

Peter groaned. “Okay, wow. Love the support.”

Before the teasing could keep going, something caught Peter’s eye in the distance.

Some flash-explosion of blue lit up the distance.

Peter’s stomach dropped. That looked an awful lot like the same tech from the ATM robbery. “The hell?” He muttered under his breath.

He leaned over to Harley, lowering his voice. “I need to check something out. Tell Ned and MJ I got sick or something.”

Harley raised an eyebrow. “Pete-”

“I’ll be fine.” Peter assured him. “I just gotta make sure it’s nothing serious.”

Harley hesitated but nodded.

Peter slipped away, heading to the side of the house where it was dark enough to change.

He always wore his web-shooters, just in case. And tonight, he’d brought his suit, folded neatly in his backpack.

He quickly suited up, double-checking that his mask was secure before shooting a web to the nearest rooftop.

Time to check this out. He swung from lamppost to lamppost, heading towards whatever that was.

  -

Swinging through the neighborhood, Peter followed the direction of the explosion, keeping to the shadows. It wasn’t long before he spotted the source.

Some sort of meeting place, half under a bridge, hidden from anyone who shouldn’t be there. Like him. The area was dimly lit by a single light, and the weapon’s people were dealing out of some white van.

There was another explosion, and now that he was up close, he could tell that this one was like electricity?

Peter landed silently on a thick tree branch, crawling upside down to get a better look.

He saw three men, at least, possibly more inside the van?

It was fairly easy to tell the difference between the dealers and the buyer. They shot another weapon, this one blasting a car.

The dealers were explaining what it was, and Peter was listening intently.

“Now this is recrafted by a reclaimed sub-Ultron arm, straight from Sokovia. Here, you try.”

The buyer was clearly not too happy. When the weapon was pushed into his arms, he gave the seller a look. “Man, I wanted something low-key, like- why you tryin’a upset me man?”

The seller took the weapon back. “Okay, okay, I got what you need, alright? I’ve got some great stuff here. One sec.” He said, going back to the van. He started listing weapons, but that’s not what Peter was focused on.

The second guy, some bald dude, started talking to the buyer. “Look, times are changin’, and we’re the only ones sellin’ these high-tech weapons.

“Ohh, these guys must be where the ATM robbers got their stuff.” Peter whispered to himself.  

“Look, I’m just tryin’a find somethin’ to take out somebody, not shoot them back in time.”

That explained a lot. These guys were scavengers, taking pieces of old battles and turning them into weapons.

His phone rang. Peter flinched. Crap.

The group below went silent. “Kay, what the hell was that?”

Peter scrambled to mute the call, but the damage was done.

He barely had time to glance at the screen, Harley.

Oh. Right. He’d kind of left without much of an explanation.

Guns were drawn. “Did you set us up?” The bald dude said, pointing his gun at the buyer.

The buyer put his hands up. “Hey, hey, man.”

Peter jumped down from his tree, his arms raised. He didn’t want anyone dying today.

“Hey, hey, c’mon, if you’re gonna shoot at someone, shoot at me!”

The bald guy raised an eyebrow, but turned the gun on him. “Alright.”

Peter used his quick reflexes, and webbed the gun from the guy’s hands before he could fire.

That was when things went sideways.

One of the men lunged, swinging a high-tech hammer-fist thing at Peter. That sent him trying into the wall of the bridge. Okay. That hurt.

The guy with the hammer laughed, apparently finding throwing someone into a wall funny.

Before he could recover, the leader shouted, “Move, move!”

The men scrambled, loading the weapons into the van.

“Wha’ was that?” Peter muttered before realizing that if he didn’t move he’d lose them.

He shot a web, latching onto the back of the van just as it sped off.

The wind rushed past him as the van swerved crazily, trying to shake him off.

Blasts of energy shot from the open back doors, forcing Peter to let go.

He tumbled onto the pavement, rolling to absorb the impact. He groaned, pushing himself up. No way was he letting them get away.

He sprinted, webbing forward to catch up.

Just as he was about to leap onto the van, a shadow passed over him.

Peter barely had time to react before -talons? grabbed him by the shoulders.

“What the-?!” he yelped.

He was yanked off the ground, lifted high into the air.

The wind roared in his ears as he twisted, trying to see who or what had grabbed him.

It was a man. A man in a mechanical, winged suit.

The guy didn’t say a word.

He just flew over the river and let go.

Peter barely had time to scream before he hit the water, the freezing current swallowing him.

  -

Peter was doing exactly what you shouldn’t do when in a scary situation. Freaking out. He was franticly trying to get his mask off so that he could at least try to tell which way was up or down. It was all wet and clung to his face, not coming off.

He was running out of breath and didn’t know which direction up or down was.

How was he supposed to get out? This was just like when he was living with the Parkers. He tried desperately to get out, to find his way up, but he was stuck. He should have listened to Harley. He did need help. And now he was going to die alone in a river, just because he’s stubborn and too proud for his own good.

  -

Tony was working in the lab, finishing something he had been working on with Peter, who wasn’t here. He and Harley had gone to some high school party. Fun. People. Ew.

He was listening to classical rock, trying to get this stubborn piece out when- SHIELD called. Because of course they did.

He picked up with a sigh, already regretting it. “What?”

“Stark.” came Maria Hill’s short voice. “We need you to check something out.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unless this is life or death, I’m off the clock.”

“Weird alien explosions in Queens.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry- what kind of explosions?”

“Unknown origin, possible advanced/ illegal tech. There were reports of some blue energy bursts in the suburbs. It’s not showing up on our sensors anymore, but we want to make sure it’s not an ongoing threat.”

Tony groaned, throwing his head back. “Queens? Why is it always Queens?”

“You’re the closest person available.”

Tony scowled. “That’s a terrible reason.”

“Get moving, Stark.”

And with that, she hung up.

Tony stood there for a second, debating his life choices, before sighing and stepping into the suit.

“FRIDAY, let Pep know I have a tiny job for SHIELD. Shouldn’t take long.”

“Yes, boss.” the AI responded. “And should I include your level of enthusiasm in the message?”

“Don’t get sass me, FRI.”

“I’m coded to learn, and you are the main person I communicate with, sir.”

Tony just huffed through his nose. It’s just like having another sassy kid.

  -

Tony flew toward the location Hill gave him, scanning the area for anything remotely alien. Or explosive. Or both.

Instead, he found… a smoking car. That’s it.

He hovered for a moment, frowning. “That’s it?”

He scanned again. Nothing.

“FRIDAY, anything?”

“No active energy signatures. Sorry boss, I’m not seeing anything.”

He landed, walking over to the car. It was charred, the metal still glowing faintly from residual heat, but aside from that? Nothing.

Tony crossed his arms. “Well, this was a waste of time.”

He turned away. He had a family waiting for him. He wasn’t about to waste another minute out here on his own doing nothing productive.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement.

He turned just in time to see a giant bird thing drop something into the river.

Tony stared. “What in the-”

The bird- no, guy in a flying bird suit, flew off before Tony could get a better look.

Okay, well that was weird.

But more importantly, what the hell did it just drop?

He had a gross feeling settled in his gut for some reason. “FRIDAY, tell me you caught that.”

“I did, boss. The object was human-sized.”

Tony cursed, shooting up into the air. He flew toward the river, scanning the water.

Then he saw it.

A red and blue shape, limp and unmoving beneath the surface.

“Oh, hell no.”

Tony dove, grabbing hold of the person. And then it clicked.

“Wait a damn second.” Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

He just pulled Spider-Man out of the water, flying him onto solid ground.

The kid was coughing before his feet even touched the pavement, sputtering out river water as he stumbled.

“You okay there, bug boy?” Tony asked. Spider-Man groaned. “I hate flying people.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, well, I hate being interrupted during my night off, so I guess we’re both suffering.”

Spider-Man turned toward him, clearly trying to get his bearings. “What are you doing here?”

“SHIELD told me there were alien explosions.” The guy nodded. “Yeah. That checks out.”

Tony crossed his arms. “Now, you wanna tell me what just happened?”

Spider-Man hesitated, and Tony frowned.

That wasn’t normal. Most people -specially younger people- tended to overshare when they were scared or overwhelmed.

But this kid? He was too controlled. And now that Tony was paying closer attention, he realized the kid was forcing his voice deeper. Interesting.

Spider-Man shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “I was- uh- handling something. It got out of hand.”

“Handling what, exactly?”

Spider-Man exhaled sharply. “Illegal weapons deal. High-tech stuff.”

Tony’s jaw tightened. “And you thought you could take that on alone?”

“I did take it on alone,” the kid shot back. “I mean, minus the whole getting thrown into a river thing.”

Tony arched a brow. “Yeah, real successful operation you ran here.”

Spider-Man huffed.

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m siding with Cap on this one, kid. You need backup.”

“No, I don’t.”

Tony gave him a flat look. “Kid. You could’ve died if I wasn’t here. Which I wasn’t even supposed to be, by the way.”

Spider-Man flinched. Bingo.

Tony softened his voice a little, trying not to come across as aggressive. “Look, I get it. You wanna do this on your own. You wanna prove yourself. But this? This isn’t a game. You need a safety net.”

Spider-Man clenched his fists. “I have a safety net.”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah? And where is it?”

Silence.

Tony sighed, reaching into one of his suit’s compartments. He pulled out a small, round device and tossed it at the kid.

Spider-Man caught it without even looking.

“A panic button.” Tony explained. “Press twice on the front, and once on the back. I’ll get a notification. No tracking, no strings attached, just something in case you find yourself drowning again.”

Spider-Man stared at it for a few seconds, then, hesitantly, he clipped it to his belt.

“Fine.” he muttered.

“Glad we could come to an agreement.” Tony said. “Now, tell me what you know about these weapons.”

Spider-Man hesitated. “They’re salvaging tech from previous battles. Sokovia, Chitauri. They’re selling it on the streets.”

“Alright,” Tony said. “Here’s what you’re not gonna do, you’re not getting involved.”

The kid stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Tony said. “Leave this to the professionals.”

Spider-Man scoffed. “Oh, yeah, sure, I’ll just sit back and relax while criminals with alien weapons run around my city.”

“Exactly.” Tony said, knowing the kid would argue more.

“That’s not happening.” Spider-Man said, sounding surprisingly aggressive.

Tony frowned. “Kid, listen to me-”

“No, you listen,” Spider-Man snapped, stepping closer. “This is my business. These guys are in my city. They’re putting my people in danger. It’s my job to protect the little guy, and I’m not just going to sit back and do nothing while they get hurt.”

Tony stared at him.

The kid was trembling, whether from frustration or the cold, Tony wasn’t sure.

“I hear you, but no. I’m not going to let you get killed over something that we, the Avengers caused. Drop it kid, it’s not worth it.”

After a moment, Spider-Man yanked up some of the top part of his sopping sweatshirt, revealing nasty burns across his stomach. “ATM incident, I’m sure you heard about it. All over the news.”

Tony felt his stomach drop. The kid let the suit fall back down, crossing his arms. “Still think I should stay out of it?”

Tony exhaled sharply. “Alright. Here’s the deal. You call if this gets out of hand. Got it?”

Spider-Man hesitated.

“Got it?” Tony repeated.

“…Got it.”

Tony smirked. “And maybe consider training with the Avengers. No pressure, but everyone needs help sometimes. You clearly aren’t trained.” Tony winced. That probably sounded like he was discounting everything he had done and everyone he had saved successfully.

Spider-Man froze. “…Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

The kid was quiet for a moment, then finally, “I’ll think about it.”

Tony grinned. “That’s all I ask.”

And with that, he took off back to the tower.

  -

“Oh, wonderful.” he muttered sarcastically. This whole situation was one of those that just made you want to bang your head on a wall repeatedly.  

With a groan, he sat up and reached for his phone, only to realize it was completely ruined. The screen was black and unresponsive. He shook it uselessly before sighing.

Great. No phone. No way to check in.

And Harley was probably already freaking out.

Peter forced himself to his feet, wincing at the bruises forming beneath his suit. He needed to get back to Liz’s house before Harley did something crazy, as Harley does, like call the police, or worse, called Pepper.

When something caught his eye. It was some glowing purple thingy. Very clearly part of the alien tech that he was trying to hunt down.

He stared at it for a few seconds, before putting it in his pocket. Probably some useful piece of evidence/lead.

He swung his way back to the party, careful to keep to the shadows near the bushes where he’d stashed his clothes earlier. With stiff, cold fingers, he yanked off his suit, rolling it up and ringing it out, before he stuffed it back into his backpack before pulling on his dry clothes.

He ran a hand through his damp hair.

Okay. Time to try and act normal. He walked back toward the backyard, trying to shake off the exhaustion from the fight. He was so ready for bed.

  -

When he stepped into the backyard, he spotted MJ and Ned still sitting in the same spot as before he left, having a conversation. But Harley wasn’t there.

Peter frowned as he walked up to his two friends. “Where’s Harley?”

MJ and Ned both looked at him, but it was MJ who responded. “Bathroom, I think. You okay?”

Peter nodded. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” before heading inside, ignoring/not noticing the concerned glance Ned and MJ shared.

He made his way to the bathroom door and knocked. A few seconds passed before Harley’s voice came through. “Just a minute.”

“It’s me.” Peter said.

There was a pause, then the door swung open.

Harley looked exhausted. But more than that, he looked relieved.

“Dude.” he started, voice tight. “You cannot do that. You can’t just tell me to cover for you and disappear with no explanation!”

Peter opened his mouth, but Harley wasn’t done.

“I was this close,” he held his fingers an inch apart, “to calling mom or dad. Or both. Do you have any idea how bad that would’ve been?”

Peter shifted awkwardly. “I know, I know-”

“No, you don’t!” Harley hissed, keeping his voice low. “I thought something happened to you, Peter!”

Peter sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat. “I’m fine, Harley..”

Harley’s eyes scanned him, narrowing slightly. “Why’s your hair wet?”

Peter blinked. “I- uh-” He scrambled for an excuse. “Fell in the pool.”

Harley’s eyes flicked down to his clothes, completely dry.

Peter knew it was a horrible and unbelievable excuse, and he didn’t even know why he lied.

Harley’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t push.

Instead, he exhaled sharply and shook his head. “You’re impossible.”

“C’mon.” Harley said, nudging Peter’s arm. “Let’s just call mom and go home.”

  -

The ride back home was quiet. Pepper didn’t ask too many questions, just the usual. ‘Did you have fun?’ and ‘Was the party good?’ Peter gave vague but acceptable answers, and Harley, while still clearly annoyed, kept quiet and didn’t snitch.

When they finally got back to the tower, Peter went to his room. He couldn’t go to bed just yet. He still had work to do, and not the school kind. He was going to make use of those nifty hacking skills and figure out who those three guys were.

Pulling off his backpack, he sat at his desk, pulling out his laptop and placing the broken piece of tech on his desk. It was so weird, nothing he'd ever seen before. He had research and hacking to do. Those weapons, those guys. He needed more information if he was going to go after them.  It didn’t matter what his dad thought about Spider-Man going after them. They were dangerous, and if he wasn’t going to do anything about it, Peter would.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Text

Peter shot up in bed, gasping for air like he had just surfaced from the freezing cold river all over again. His heart slammed against his chest, his throat felt so tight that he thought he might explode. His throat burned from the scream that had left him just a few seconds ago.

The room was dark, but his mind was replaying his dream, his uncle lying motionless on the dirty alleyway ground. He was gasping for air that just wouldn’t seem to fill his lungs.

Little seven year old him, cowering in the corner, Richard yelling at him for getting an imperfect grade.

May’s eyes wide with terror as the gun was turned on her, the deafening gunshot echoing in his ears like it had just happened all over again.

The suffocating river, water entering his lungs, dragging him down, down, down-

His door burst open, and suddenly there were hands on his shoulders, a voice in his ear, warm and familiar, but slightly panicked.

“Pete, hey, hey, kiddo, look at me.”

Peter flinched violently at the touch, his instincts screaming at him to fight, to escape. But he realized that he recognized the voice, which belonged to his dad. His breath came in uneven gasps, and the room blurred through the tears burning at his eyes.

The bedside lamp clicked on, casting a warm glow over the room. That’s when he saw that Tony was kneeling beside his bed, his dad’s expression filled with something between panic and helplessness, and Pepper standing just behind him, her brows furrowed in worry.

“Peter, sweetheart, you’re okay.” Pepper said softly, stepping closer. “You’re safe.”

Peter forced himself to nod, even though he was sure he didn’t believe it. His body was trembling, his breath still all over the place. He hated this. Hated how weak he felt. Hated that he’d woken his parents up. That he’s worrying them.

Tony’s hands loosened their grip on his shoulders but didn’t pull away. “You with me, kid?”

Peter swallowed, tried to push down the nausea rising in his throat. “Y-yeah.” He said, though his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m okay.”

It was a lie, but what else was he supposed to say?

‘I’m not okay, never have been?’ ‘I just had a nightmare about being thrown into a river, only for you, who wasn’t even supposed to be there, to save my pathetic excuse for a hero butt?’ ‘I just watched my third pair of parental figures die right in front of me again, in a dirty alleyway, knowing that it’s completely my fault?’

From the doorway, movement caught his eye. Harley and Morgan were both standing there, Morgan clinging to Harley’s arm, looking confused and scared.

Peter’s stomach sank. Great. He hadn’t just woken up his parents, he’d woken up the whole damn tower.

“I-” He forced himself to sit up, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled, voice thick with shame. “I didn’t mean to wake everyone up.”

Pepper didn’t hesitate. She plopped herself on the edge of his bed and gently tugged him toward her, guiding his head onto her lap.

“Don’t apologize.” she murmured, her fingers threading through his damp curls. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. The sensation of her fingers in his hair was comforting in a way he hadn’t expected, easing some of the tension from his body. But the guilt still sat heavy in his stomach.

“I’m fine now, really. You guys can go back to bed.” he tried again.

Tony huffed. “Yeah, okay, and I’m the Queen of England.”

Peter would’ve laughed at that if he wasn’t still fighting off the panic that was clawing at his chest.

“You’re not fine.” Tony continued, his voice softer this time.

Peter fidgeted with his fingernail. He knew what was coming next. The question he couldn’t answer.

Tony didn’t press right away. He just sat there, watching him with careful eyes, like he was trying to put the pieces together himself.

After a moment, he finally asked, “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”

Peter stiffened. The blood. The gun. The river. Trapped. Yelling. The suffocating and darkness.

He swallowed and shook his head. “I- I can’t.”

Tony didn’t look surprised, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t disappointed.

Peter hated that.

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Okay.” He said, and Peter could hear the reluctance in his voice. “Okay. You don’t have to talk about it. But just… know that I’m here, alright?”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek and nodded.

“I mean it.” Tony said, voice a little firmer. “You ever want to talk, you come to me. No matter what.”

Peter couldn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the concern that he had no doubt was all over his dad’s face. So he kept his eyes locked on his bedsheets instead.

Tony was silent for a minute before finally pushing himself up to stand.

“Get some rest, kiddo.” he murmured. “We’ll be here in the morning.”

Pepper leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Try to sleep, sweetheart. I love you.”

Peter’s throat tightened, and he nodded.

As Tony and Pepper stepped toward the door, Morgan hesitated before shuffling into the room, going all the way up to his bed and crawling up onto it.

“Are you okay, Petey?” she asked, even her small voice was laced with worry.

Peter forced a small smile. “Yeah, Mo. I’m good.”

Before she could say anything else, Pepper gently took her hand.

“Come on, bug,” she said. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Morgan cast one last glance at Peter before letting Pepper lead her away.

Harley, who had been quiet through the whole thing, lingered for a moment longer. His gaze flickered between Peter and Tony, and for a second, Peter thought he might say something. But then he just gave a small nod and turned to leave.

The door shut with a soft click, leaving Peter alone in the quiet. But quiet didn’t mean peace.

He pulled the blankets up to his chin and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to actually be able to fall asleep, but he knew that even if he did, the nightmares would still be waiting.

He sat up, curled in on himself, his back against the wall and his breath shaking. He still felt so guilty and scared. His chest was tight, his throat sore from the silent sobs that refused to be contained. His hands trembled and his head spun with voices, with accusations, with memories he couldn't escape.

May and Ben are dead because of you.

You could’ve stopped it. You could have saved them.

You’re supposed to be Spider-Man, supposed to be a hero.

But heroes didn’t let their families die.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his heart pounding in his ears. The suffocating thoughts felt just like the river all over again, dragging him down, stealing his breath, filling his lungs with ice. He gasped, struggling to pull in air, but it felt impossible, like no matter how hard he tried, he was still drowning.

His body shook with silent sobs, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He didn’t notice the door creak open. He didn’t hear the soft footsteps crossing the room. He didn’t realize he wasn’t alone until strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him in close.

Peter startled, eyes flying open, body tensing instinctively, until he realized that it was just Harley.

Peter sucked in a sharp breath as his brother’s arms wrapped around him. Harley didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions or try to force him to say anything. He just held on, his chin resting on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter was shaking, his breath still uneven, but the warmth of the hug slowly pulled him out of the freefall. The sobs that had been silent and jagged turned into quiet sniffles, then into slow, shaky breaths. His head drooped slightly, exhaustion replacing his fear and anxiety.

Harley still didn’t say anything. He just stayed, his own eyes closed, and his arms wrapped tightly around his twin.

Minutes passed. Maybe more. Peter wasn’t sure. He was still trembling, but he wasn’t drowning anymore.

Half-asleep, resting against Harley’s shoulder, he heard his brother finally speak.

“Was it Spider-Man, or from your past?”

Peter froze. The nightmare replayed in his mind over and over. He saw Ben and May, their lives stolen from them right in front of him. The bird guy dropping him into the river, the helplessness of sinking, the terror of knowing he wasn’t getting out of it alone.

“Both.”

Harley exhaled softly, his arms never loosened. “Yeah.” He said quietly, as if he’d already known the answer.

Neither of them moved for a while, but after a moment, Harley shifted slightly. “May and Ben weren’t your fault.” he said, his voice steady, calm. “I’m gonna keep telling you that until you believe it.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to believe it. He did. But how could he? He had powers. He could’ve stopped the guy. He could’ve saved them.

But he hadn’t.

Harley sighed, like he could hear the argument playing out in Peter’s head. “You were just a kid, Peter. Still are.” he said. “A scared kid. No one would’ve expected you to stop a guy with a gun.”

Peter swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat still didn’t go away. His case is different.

“And whatever happened with Spider-Man,” Harley continued, “you’re here now. You’re safe. You’ve got a whole team of superheroes who would do anything for you just a floor up.”

Peter wanted to believe that too.

He didn’t respond. Didn’t argue. He felt too drained to do anything anyway.

Harley seemed to get that. He reached for the comforter and pulled it over both of them.

“Go to sleep, idiot.” he muttered, shifting a little so they were both comfortable.

Peter huffed out something that was almost a laugh.

Harley elbowed him lightly. “That wasn’t permission to overthink. That was permission to shut your brain off for a few hours. Go to bed or else.”

Peter let out a slow breath, letting himself relax against his brother’s shoulder.

Harley kept the nightmares away the rest of the night.

  -

Peter woke up to the feeling of something digging into his ribs, then it moved. For a second, his sleepy brain panics, until he realizes it’s just Harley. His brother is still there, curled up beside him, elbow digging into his ribs and head resting against Peter’s pillow, breathing slow and even. Obviously still asleep.

It’s comforting. It also makes him feel embarrassed.

Carefully, Peter shifts, trying not to wake Harley. His body aches, his head is a mess, and his eyes feel swollen from crying. He’s exhausted. He could probably stay in bed all day if it weren’t for the fact that Tony and Pepper were already worried enough.

He’s had nightmares all his life, this one was just a bad one. Ever since he was taken all those years ago, his brain would replay things in his mind, make stuff up.

Harley stirs beside him, blinking sleepily before realizing Peter was awake. “Mornin’.” he mumbles, stretching with a groan.

“Morning.” Peter replies, voice still quiet with sleep.

Harley just studies him for a second, then sighs. “You look like you got run over dude.”

Peter huffs a weak laugh and rubs his face. “Gee, thanks.”

Harley doesn’t joke back like he normally would. Instead, he watches Peter carefully, the way he sometimes does when he thinks Peter isn’t taking care of himself. “You good?”

Peter nods quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Harley clearly doesn’t buy it, but he lets it go. “C’mon,” he says, nudging Peter’s shoulder. “I want breakfast.”

Peter groans but drags himself out of bed anyway.

  -

By the time Peter and Harley make it to the kitchen, the smell of breakfast is already in the air.

Pepper is at the stove, flipping pancakes, while Morgan hovered over her ‘helping’. Tony is leaning against the counter, coffee in hand.

When Pepper sees Peter, her face softens. “Morning, sweetheart. How’re you feeling?”

Peter shrugs, grabbing a glass and pouring himself some orange juice. “I’m fine.”

Tony gives him a look. “Yeah, you look perfectly wonderful.”

Peter avoids his dad’s gaze and focuses on his drink. He knows he looks awful. Dark circles under his eyes, face still a little puffy, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. He just wants everyone to forget all about last night. He didn’t want people worrying about him.

Morgan, however, has other ideas. She sits down so that she could hop off the chair, before running over and grabbing Peter’s wrist, tugging him toward the table. “You get the first few pancakes!” she insists.

“I’m not-”

“Nope! Sit. Eat it or else.”

She pushes a plate of pancakes in front of him. Peter hesitates, but Pepper raises an eyebrow, and, well… he’s smart enough to know when he’s lost a battle.

  -

After everyone had finished with breakfast, Peter disappears to his room, claiming he has homework. Harley follows a few minutes later, under the excuse of grabbing something from his own room.

That leaves Tony and Pepper alone in the kitchen.

Tony leans against the counter with a frown. “So… that was something.”

Pepper exhales, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah.”

“Kid looked like he hadn’t slept in forever. He hasn’t.” Pepper says. “Not properly.”

“I know. When we first got him back, I thought it was just because of the state he was in. I mean, of course you’re not going to be in the best shape after being homeless for a week and starved for even longer, but some things still haven’t gotten better. Like sleep.”

Tony sets his coffee down. “Last night. That wasn’t just nightmares. He was shaking. And he wouldn’t talk about it.”

Pepper folds her arms, leaning against the counter across from him. Her face… sad. “Have you… Have you been noticing the bruises? Like- fresh ones. On the daily.”

Tony’s shoulders tense. He has. They aren’t always obvious, but every now and then, Peter would have a scrape, a bruise on his arm or jaw, something he’d brush off as nothing.

“He’s sneaking out sometimes.” Tony admits. “I don’t know how often, I’ve only caught him a few times.”

Pepper looks down and studies the countertop like it’s the most interesting thing. Then she speaks. “Do you think he’s getting bullied? Like- at school?”

Tony straightens. “What?”

“Think about it.” Pepper says. “He’s anxious, he’s exhausted, he won’t tell us anything, and then there’s the bruises.”

Tony runs a hand down his face. “Great. Fantastic. My kid’s getting hurt by little brats at a nerd school, and he won’t even tell me about it.”

“I don’t know for sure.” Pepper says gently. “But something is wrong. That might not even be the case.”

Tony looks toward the hallway where Peter had disappeared. The idea of Peter dealing with something like that alone makes his stomach turn.

Pepper sighs. “Harley knows something that we don’t.”

Tony nods. “Yeah. He’s been hovering, like- a lot.”

“Maybe we should ask him?” Pepper asks, her face creased with worry.

Tony sighs. “Yeah.”

They exchange a look, then head towards their son’s room.

  -

Harley is lounging on his bed, book in hand, when Tony and Pepper knock on his door.

He raises an eyebrow. “Uh… what’s up?”

Tony doesn’t beat around the bush. “You know what’s up.”

Harley frowns. “I do?”

“Peter.” Pepper clarifies. “We’re worried about him.”

Harley shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah, well… me too.”

Tony crosses his arms. “You know something we don’t?”

Harley hesitates.

Pepper softens her voice. “Harley, if something is going on, you need to tell us. We want to help. We love him just as much as you do.”

Harley looks torn. “It’s not really my thing to tell.”

Tony exhales frustratedly. “Alright. Fine. Just… is he in danger?”

Harley hesitates. “I don’t really know.”

“Not exactly reassuring, kid.” Tony says with an annoyed huff.

Harley looks down at the book he’d been reading. “He’s just… carrying a lot.”

Tony and Pepper exchange a glance.

“Does this have anything to do with last night?” Pepper asks.

Harley sighs. “Maybe.”

“Was it about May and Ben?” Tony asks.

Harley looks away, which is basically an answer in itself. At least, that’s what they think.

Tony swears under his breath and sits down on the end of Harley’s bed.

Pepper presses her lips together, worried. “That’s why he wouldn’t talk about it.”

Harley nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

Tony rubs a hand over his face. “Alright. Thanks, kid.”

Harley watches them go, still looking conflicted.

  -

That night, Tony finds Peter in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. Maybe its just him, but that’s not exactly normal teenage behavior.

Tony leans against the doorframe. “Hey.”

Peter glances up. “Hey.”

Tony studies him. He looks tired.

“Listen, kid,” Tony says, stepping inside. “I know you don’t wanna talk about it. And that’s fine. But just so we’re clear, you don’t have to deal with this crap alone.”

Peter swallows, looking away.

Tony sighs and sits beside him. “I mean it, Pete. You can talk to me. Or Pepper. Or Harley.”

Peter hesitates. “I know.”

Tony nudges his shoulder. “Good. Just… keep it in mind, alright?”

Peter gives a small nod.

Tony squeezes his shoulder before standing. “Alright. Get some sleep kid. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He says, words still weird on his tongue. Peter watches him leave the room.

  -

Tony leaned against the desk in his workshop, staring blankly at the half-built project in front of him. His mind wasn’t on it. It hadn’t been for a while.

He sighed frustratedly, violently tapping a pencil on the desk. He didn’t like not knowing what was going on. Peter was struggling, but he wasn’t letting Tony in. And Harley… Harley definitely knew something, but he wasn’t talking either.

“FRIDAY?” Tony said suddenly.

“Yes, Boss?” The AI responded almost immediately.

Tony hesitated, then sighed. “I need you to monitor Peter’s room at night. If he has another nightmare like last night, let me know immediately.”

There was a pause, then FRIDAY’s voice returned. “Would you like me to alert you for any disturbances in his vitals as well?”

Tony sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. Peter hadn’t just been dreaming. He’d been panicking, trembling, crying so hard he could barely breathe.

“…Yeah.” he said finally. “If something’s off, wake me up.” Tony replied.

“And does this override the protocol that Harley set in place to make sure you sleep and to lock you out of the lab after 1 A.M.?”

Tony rolled his eyes with a small smile. “Yeah, FRI.”

“Understood, Boss.”

Tony sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Whatever was happening, he needed to figure it out.

  -

By the time dinnertime rolled around, Peter had finally started to shake off the exhaustion and guilt. Mostly because Morgan had made it her mission to distract him.

She had found him in the kitchen, looking through the fridge, and hugged his arm.

“Are you making dinner?” she asked, bouncing on her toes.

Peter shut the fridge with his hip and grinned down at her. “Yup!”

Her eyes lit up. “Can I help?”

Peter smirked. “I dunno... We’re making something fancy. You think you can handle it?”

Morgan gasped dramatically. “I can handle it! What are we making?”

Peter pulled out the ingredients and set them on the counter. “Chicken parmesan.”

Morgan’s eyes widened. “That sounds so fancy.”

Peter laughed. “Yeah, well, don’t let it fool you. It’s not that hard to make. Or fancy.”

Morgan placed her hands on her hips sassily. “I think you just think it’s easy because you’re a chef.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m not a chef, Morgan.”

“Then how do you know how to cook so good?”

Peter hesitated. She didn’t need to know about all his trauma. So, he responded. “May taught me.” It was a half-truth.

May had taught him how to cook complicated things that actually tasted good, But it was the Parker’s who’d neglected him long enough for him to figure out how to cook himself real, balanced meals.

Morgan blinked, then gave him a small smile. “Then she must’ve been really good at it.”

Peter felt a lump in his throat and nodded. “Yeah. She was.”

Morgan, sensing the shift in mood, grabbed his hand. “Okay, now teach me your ways.”

Peter laughed and squeezed her hand. “Alright. First, we gotta start with the chicken. Grab me the knife and I’ll start slicing.”

  -

Morgan took her job very seriously.

Peter showed her how to dredge the chicken, first in flour, then egg, then breadcrumbs. She was very careful and precise, trying her best to make it perfect.

When she finished her first one, she grinned up at Peter. “How’d I do?”

Peter smiled at her, and ran a hand over her smooth auburn hair. “Ya nailed it.”

She beamed.

When they moved to making the sauce, she insisted on helping stir. She stood on a stool, wooden spoon in hand, watching carefully as the tomatoes simmered.

“This smells so good!” she said, closing her eyes dramatically.

Peter huffed a laugh. “Just wait till you taste it.”

Morgan gasped. “Can I?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “It’s hot.”

“I’ll blow on it!” she pleaded.

Peter hesitated, then dipped the spoon in the sauce, carefully bringing it up. Morgan blew on it for a solid five seconds before taking the tiniest sip.

“This is so yummy!” She said dramatically.

Peter smirked. “Told you.”

Morgan looked at the pot like it held all the secrets of the universe. “How do you do that?”

Peter grinned. “Magic.”

Morgan narrowed her eyes. “No. Teach me.”

Peter laughed. “Okay, okay. It’s just seasoning.”

Morgan nodded seriously. “Seasoning.”

Peter grabbed the fresh basil leaves. “This is super important for flavor. Wanna add some?”

Morgan took the leaves carefully and tore them up, sprinkling them into the sauce.

Peter gave her a proud nod. “Look at you, little chef.”

Morgan giggled.

  -

By the time they were done, Morgan had flour in her hair, sauce on her shirt, and the biggest grin on her face.

She was very excited about dinner.

“I’m setting the table!” she announced, darting off.

Peter smiled as he plated the food to look more aesthetically pleasing (Morgan may have made a little mess…) A few minutes later, Morgan ran back, grabbed her plate, and carefully carried it to the table.

Then she yelled down the hall. “DINNER TIME!! AND IT’S FROM SCRATCH!”

Peter snorted.

Within minutes, everyone had gathered.

Harley raised an eyebrow. “From scratch, huh?”

Morgan nodded proudly. “Yep! We did everything! Peter’s a chef.” That earned an eye roll from Peter.

Pepper smiled warmly. “It smells amazing.”

Tony ruffled Peter’s hair as he passed. “Look at you, kid. A genius and a cook.”

Peter looked at his feet, but his cheeks warmed.

They all sat down together, and as they dug in, Morgan continued to be dramatic, as kids are.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” She said, taking a bite of the chicken.

Peter snorted. “You say that like- every dinner Morgs.”

“Yeah, well, it’s true every time,” she shot back.

After a little while, he glanced at Morgan, who was happily munching away, swinging her legs under the table.

He would do anything for her. No matter what.

  -

(The next day)

Tony had been thinking about it for a while.

Ever since that nightmare, ever since Peter had woken up shaking, crying, looking so utterly broken, Tony had known that it had been about May and Ben.

But he’d been thinking about it before the nightmare happened too.

Peter hadn’t wanted to say it. Maybe he couldn’t.

But Tony could put the pieces together. He wasn’t dumb.        …not most of the time at least.

And now, standing in the kitchen while Peter sat at the counter, reading a book, Tony knew he couldn’t put this conversation off any longer.

He took a deep breath. “Hey… kid?”

Peter glanced up, face scrunching slightly at Tony’s tone. “Yeah?”

Tony hesitated. He didn’t want to upset him. But this wasn’t something Peter should have to deal with alone.

“I was thinking…” Tony started, carefully. “If you ever wanted to… visit May and Ben’s grave, we could do that.”

Peter’s grip on his fork tightened a little.

Tony continued cautiously. “And if you wanted to do something more than just visit, something bigger, something for them, we could do that too.”

Peter swallowed.

“No pressure.” Tony added quickly. “We don’t have to make it some big, traditional thing. It could be whatever you want. Just… if you do want to, you wouldn’t have to do it alone.”

For a long moment, Peter didn’t say anything. His eyes were fixed on the counter, expression unreadable, which was strange, but something that came with the package. Kids weren’t supposed to have to know how to guard how they felt.

Tony didn’t push.

Then, after a minute, Peter took a breath. “I… I think I’d like that.”

Tony’s chest ached at how quiet his voice was.

Peter looked up, hesitant. “Not a big funeral thing. Just something small. For the people who really knew them.”

Tony nodded, keeping his voice even. “Okay. What kind of thing are we talking about?”

Peter glanced away, as if he was thinking carefully about his words. “Not a whole service. Just… I don’t know. I don’t think they would have wanted that. Just… something meaningful. Something for them. They deserved that much.”

Tony’s throat felt tight. “Yeah, kid. They did.”

Peter exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I want some of Ben’s old cop buddies to be there. May’s best friend, Kathryn. She was like an aunt to me. Nora too, she was May’s other friend.”

Tony nodded. “We’ll make it happen.”

Peter hesitated, then, barely above a whisper, said, “Thanks dad.”

He reached over, squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “Anytime, kid. Don’t ever hesitate to ask for things. We’re here for you.”

And he meant it.

  -

Peter stood stiffly beside a wall of fake ivy; his fingers curled into his sleeves as he listened to the soft voices of the people around him. The small gathering of people who had come for May and Ben’s little funeral-like get together stood in clusters, speaking in hushed tones, exchanging memories of the two people who had meant the world to him.

It wasn’t a formal service. No speeches, no priest, no rows of chairs under a canopy. Just a quiet, personal gathering in the back of a small restaurant May had loved. A place where Ben used to bring him after school for fries and milkshakes when he was little.

Peter barely heard the words spoken around him. His head was too full of what-ifs and should-haves.

Ben and May deserved so much more than this. They deserved a full church, a long ceremony with people lined up to say how much they meant to them. They deserved a proper goodbye. But he also knew that’s not what they would have wanted.

And Peter wouldn’t have been able to face that.

As the gathering continued, Peter found himself caught in a tight hug before he could react. Strong arms wrapped around him, and the familiar scent of cologne and old leather filled his nose.

“Kid.” Ryan said, his voice thick with emotion, “you have no idea how worried we were.”

Ryan, his uncle’s best friend. Peter had known him for- ever since May and Ben took him in. He was at every barbecue, every birthday party, every holiday dinner. When he was younger, Ryan would let him sit in his police car, letting him pretend to be a detective solving some grand mystery.

Kathryn wasn’t far behind, stepping forward the moment Ryan pulled back to cradle Peter’s face between her hands. “You just- vanished on us, honey. We didn’t know where you were or if you were okay.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she pulled him into a tight hug.

Peter swallowed, feeling guilty. He hadn’t really thought about how far the ripples of his disappearance had spread, how many people had been left wondering if he was even alive.

“I’m okay,” he murmured, returning the hug. “I promise.”

Kathryn pulled back, eyes scanning over his face like she was trying to read him. “You sure you’re safe? You have somewhere to stay?”

Peter nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m with-” He hesitated, glancing toward Tony, who was standing nearby, pretending not to eavesdrop. He took a breath and turned back to them. “I’m safe.”

Ryan crossed his arms, giving Peter a skeptical look. “You’re sure you don’t need anything? Anything at all?”

Peter offered them a small, reassuring smile. “I promise. But… thank you. For worrying about me.”

Kathryn let out a soft breath, shaking her head as if she still couldn’t believe him. “Of course we worried. You’re family, Pete. I would take you in in a heartbeat.”

Ryan nodded in agreement, ruffling Peter’s hair like he had when Peter was younger. “Just don’t scare us like that again, alright?”

Peter’s smile wavered slightly, but he nodded. “Yes sir.”

Peter didn’t even notice the tear that ran down his cheek until Kathryn wiped it away.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

Peter closed his eyes, letting himself lean into the hug, just for a moment.

“They loved you so much, Peter.” she whispered. “More than anything in the world.”

Peter swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“They shouldn’t have h-” The words caught, and he shook his head.

Kathryn pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Peter flinched, looking away.

“I mean it.” she insisted, her hands on his arms. “Whatever you’re thinking, whatever guilt you’re carrying, you need to let it go. Ben and May would never want you to hold onto that.”

Peter’s eyes burned.

He couldn’t tell her that it was his fault. That he had stood there and let it happen. That he was Spider-Man. A hero. And he had still failed the people who had raised him.

Kathryn cupped his face, brushing his curls back the way May used to. “You are not alone, sweetheart.”

Peter sighed shakily, nodding.

She pulled him back into another hug, holding him tight, and he let her.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Harley watching him, worry clear in his expression.

Tony stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes filled with something Peter couldn’t quite place.

They were all watching. They all knew something was wrong. But Peter couldn’t tell them.

Not yet.

Instead, he forced himself to step back, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes.

“Thank you for coming.” He said quietly.

Kathryn smiled sadly. “Always.”

Morgan suddenly appeared at his side, slipping her small hand into his.

Peter looked down at her in surprise.

She just squeezed his fingers.

And somehow, that small gesture was enough to make him feel just a little better.

  -

The air felt heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and freshly cut grass as Peter walked through the cemetery. The quiet felt suffocating, pressing against his chest with each step.

He didn’t want to be there anymore. The restaurant, the people, the empty condolences.

It was all just a reminder of the sadness and pain his failure had caused. All of this? It was his fault. He could have saved them. He should have saved them.

All of his thoughts left him feeling like he was suffocating.

So, he left.

His feet carried him forward as his hand reached for his pocket. Pulling out his phone, he tapped his code and went to messages, then selected his dad’s contact. Hey, I’m at the cemetery. Just need a minute. Don’t worry. He sent the message to Tony and slipped his phone back into his pocket before making his way toward the two graves.

There they were.

May Parker. Ben Parker.

Right next to Richard and Mary Parker. Wow. Look at that, four of his parental figures, buried right next to each other.

He barely spared the other two a glance, stepping past the cold stone markers that had the names of the people he had once been told were his parents. He had visited them before, when he was younger. May and Ben had thought it was the right thing to do, bringing him to see the graves of the people they thought to be his parents. But Peter had never felt a connection to those names, never felt any warmth when he stood in front of them.

No. His parents had been May and Ben. They had raised him, loved him.

And now they were gone too. Thanks to him.

Peter sat criss cross, and rested his forehead against Ben’s headstone. The stone was freezing, but that didn’t stop the tears from welling up, slipping down his cheeks and onto his nose, dripping onto the grass below.

His fingers curled into the damp grass, his shoulders shaking.

He had lost six parental figures. Six. Now he had two of them back.

But how long would that last?

It was a pattern. He ruined every life of the people he got close to. Was it selfish of him to want to stay with them? To be happy and feel respected? Loved?

How long before it would be Tony and Pepper that he had to grieve?

He knew he shouldn’t be letting the Starks in. He knew he shouldn’t be getting attached, shouldn’t be trusting them, shouldn’t be letting them make a home in the broken pieces of his heart.

But he already had, and he didn’t want to push them away.

Harley knew more about him than anyone ever had. Tony and Pepper cared about him more than he ever thought they would. Morgan loved him like he had always been there.

He had let them in.

And if he lost them like he lost May and Ben-

A quiet sob tore through his throat, his hands clenching into fists.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

His vision blurred, and he pressed his forehead harder against the stone, like he could make Ben and May hear him, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, to take away the stupid crushing guilt that was suffocating him.

“It’s my fault.”  he choked out. “I should have done something. I could have done something.”

His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard.

“It should’ve been me.”

He closed his eyes. “It should’ve been me.” he repeated, barely more than a whisper.

Tears continued streaming down his face, and he sat there, wishing he could just make this all go away.

  -

Tony sat awkwardly at the small gathering Peter had arranged, feeling like an outsider in a life he should’ve been there for. A life he would have given anything to be there for. The restaurant was filled with quiet conversations, quiet laughter, and the occasional sniffle. People exchanged stories, remembering May and Ben fondly. They were clearly good people. They had good friends, caring about who was in their circles. And as much as Tony hated to admit it, they raised a damn good kid. He just wished he was there to see it.

At first, when he and his family arrived, there had been questioning stares, hesitant glances from people who clearly didn’t know how to place the Starks in Parker’s life. Tony had braced himself for questions, but thankfully, none came. It didn’t take long for people to settle, shifting their attention back to each other and Peter, offering condolences, hugs, and quiet reassurances.

And Tony watched.

Watched as Peter accepted every hug with a small, fragile and weak smile. Watched as people ruffled his hair, cupped his face, and held him like they had known him his whole life.

Because they had. He hadn’t.

He watched as they spoke of how proud May and Ben would have been.

And honestly, it hurt.

It was a painful reminder of how much of his son’s life he had missed. (Had been stolen)

If he had just found Peter sooner, maybe the kid wouldn’t have had to go through so much pain. Maybe he would’ve never had to feel like he didn’t belong.

Maybe he wouldn’t have had to lose so much.

Tony sighed, rubbing at his temple as he sat with Pepper and Harley, Morgan curled up in Pepper’s lap, her tiny fingers idly playing with Pepper’s necklace.

He wasn’t even really listening to the conversations around him anymore, just lost in his own thoughts. He was so caught up thinking that he didn’t notice anything wrong until Harley suddenly stiffened beside him.

Tony frowned, watching as Harley scanned the room, his expression slowly morphing into one of concern.

"Where's Peter?" Harley asked suddenly.

Tony immediately straightened, glancing around the small gathering. The quiet hum of conversation continued, no one seeming to realize that Peter wasn’t there.

“Check the bathroom.” Tony instructed Harley, already standing up and looking around the room.

Harley nodded, quickly heading in that direction.

A second later, Tony’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, unlocking it to find a text from Peter.

Hey, I’m at the cemetery. Just need a minute. Don’t worry.

Tony exhaled, running a hand down his face. Of course, he should’ve known.

“What is it?” Pepper asked, eyes immediately locking onto him.

Tony hesitated for a moment before showing her the message.

Pepper’s lips pressed into a thin line, concern flickering across her features.

“I’ll go check on him.” Tony said before she could say anything. “Just stay here with Morgan and Harley.”

Pepper nodded, though she didn’t look happy about it.

With one last glance at his family, Tony slipped out of the restaurant and made his way to the cemetery.

  -

When he got there, the sight that greeted him made his chest ache.

Peter was sitting on the ground in front of one of the graves, his body curled inward like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. His forehead rested against Ben Parker’s headstone, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Tony was about to call out to him, let him know he was there, but then he heard him talking.

“I’m sorry.” Peter whispered, his voice breaking in a way that made Tony’s stomach twist. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony froze.

“It’s my fault.” Peter choked out. “I should have done something. I could have done something.”

“It should’ve been me.”

Tony’s breath caught.

“It should’ve been me.” Peter repeated, barely more than a whisper, his eyes still closed.

For a moment, Tony couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Then, something snapped.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Tony said, his voice sharp, leaving no room for argument.

Peter flinched. He clearly wasn’t expecting anyone to be around. He turned, eyes wide and red-rimmed, tears still streaking down his cheeks.

Tony didn’t hesitate.

He crouched down, placing a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I mean it, kid. Not ever.” His voice softened slightly, but there was still edge to it. “You hear me?”

Peter swallowed hard, dropping his gaze.

“I-”

“None of this is your fault.” Tony cut him off, shaking his head. “Not May. Not Ben. Not any of it.” He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “And I swear to god, if you ever say it should’ve been you again-”

His voice cracked slightly, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment before exhaling sharply.

Peter stared at him, his expression unreadable.

Tony took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing, his voice softer this time.

“I’m glad it wasn’t you, kid. So damn glad. You know how scared we all were when you had sepsis?”

Peter’s breath hitched.

“I know it hurts.” Tony continued. “I know you miss them. And I know nothing I say is gonna change that. But you are not responsible for what happened. You were just a kid, Peter.” His grip on Peter’s shoulder tightened slightly. “And you’re still a kid now. A kid who has been through way too much, and who does not deserve to have to carry this kind of guilt.”

Peter let out a shaky breath.

Tony sighed, shifting so he was fully sitting beside him. “I wish I could take it away. All of it. I wish I could go back and change everything for you.” He paused, then added, “I wish I could have been there for you. I would give anything to have gotten the chance to give you a normal childhood, to raise you, and take all of the hurt away.

Peter let out a small sniffle, resting his head on his dad’s shoulder.

Tony smiled faintly before his expression turned serious again.

“You’re not alone, Pete.” he said quietly. “Not anymore. Not ever again”

Peter swallowed, his gaze flickering between the graves and Tony.

“You sure about that?” he asked, voice small.

Tony frowned. “What do you mean?”

It looked like Peter hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He fumbled over his words trying to correct himself. Before just responding, “Nothing.”

“No, you meant something by that, what?” Tony said.

Peter hesitated, looking away. “I just… I don’t know how long this lasts. How long I have before I lose all of you, too.”

The poor kid expected everyone in his life to leave him.

Tony’s heart twisted, and without thinking, he reached out and pulled Peter into a hug.

Peter stiffened at first, clearly caught off guard, but after a second, he melted into the hug, his fingers curling into Tony’s suit.

Tony held him tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere, kid.” he murmured. “Neither is Pepper. Neither is Harley. And Morgan would fight anyone, even if she wouldn’t win, just to keep you around.”

Peter let out a small, wet huff that was supposed to be a laugh against his shoulder, and Tony smiled.

“You’re stuck with us kiddo.” Tony added, squeezing him gently. “So you better get used to it.”

Peter nodded against him, his grip tightening slightly.

They both sat there for a little while, Peter’s cries turning into sniffles.

Tony didn’t say anything, just kept a hand around Peter’s shoulders. He wasn’t going to force him to leave, but he wasn’t gonna let him keep spiraling either.

  -

Peter hesitated, staring at the headstones as if they might disappear if he blinked (or left). He had spent so long running from them, from what happened, from the guilt, and now he was just going to leave? Like it wasn’t eating him alive? Like they weren’t worth more than a couple of words and a handful of tears?

“They wouldn’t want you to sit here all day, Pete.” Tony said softly, as if reading his thoughts. “You did a good thing for them today. Now let’s go before your aunt’s friend decides to adopt you and I have to fight for custody.”

A weak, breathy laugh escaped Peter before he could stop it. It wasn’t much, but it was something at least.

Tony squeezed his shoulder. “Listen, kid. I know your brain’s telling you that you don’t belong, that you should’ve done more, that you don’t deserve to move on, but that’s a load of crap.”

Peter turned his head slightly, just enough to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

“You do belong here, Peter.” Tony said, voice softer but still confident. “With us. With your family. We love you, and I promise you, May and Ben? They would be so proud of you, kid. I think they’d want you to be happy. At least from what I’ve seen.”

Peter swallowed, eyes stinging again, but this time it wasn’t just grief.

Tony didn’t rush him. He let Peter have another few seconds to say a silent goodbye before nudging his shoulder and nodding toward the car that had the family in it. He hadn’t said anything when they pulled up, not wanting to rush the kid. “C’mon, let’s get outta here. I’m thinking a lazy day for the rest of the day?”

Peter gave the headstones one last look before standing up, wiping his face as Tony started walking beside him.

“They would be proud of you, you know.” Tony added again as they reached the car. He hesitated before opening the door. “And so am I.”

Peter’s breath hitched slightly, but he didn’t argue. He really did want to believe Tony. But there were factors that he didn’t know, and his father’s judgement wasn’t fair without the full story.

Tony gave him a small smirk before ruffling his hair. “You’re stuck with us.”

  -

The ride back was quiet, but not uncomfortable. When they got home, the mood shifted, into something calmer, warmer. There was no pressure, no expectations, just a lazy day spent together.

Peter ended up on the couch, half-watching a movie with Morgan curled up against his side, holding his arm and twirling her hair around her finger over and over idly. Harley was next to them, throwing popcorn at Peter whenever he made a comment about the movie’s physics. And Nala, who sat on his feet, would happily clean it up. Tony and Pepper sat together a couple cushions down, talking quietly but keeping an eye on them, making sure Peter was okay without smothering him. (Unlike Morgan and Harley)

At some point, Pepper checked the time and sighed. “Alright, bed. You three have got school tomorrow.”

Morgan groaned dramatically. “But Mooooom-”

“No buts. It’s 9:30, already past you’re bed time, miss.” Pepper said with a raised eyebrow.

Morgan huffed, crossing her arms. “Well, when I become president, I’m making it illegal for anyone to have to go to school.”

Pepper just gave her an unimpressed look, with a hint of a smile, Tony snorted, and Harley said he agreed with her. And even though Peter still felt a little heavy from the day, he couldn’t help but smile.

  -

After everyone had gone to bed, Peter suited up and headed out for patrol. It was quiet, just the usual small-time crime, but the familiar routine wasn’t enough to completely distract him.

By the time he crawled through his window, he was exhausted. He barely managed to slip out of his suit and pull on some sweats before flopping onto his bed, sighing into his pillow.

He was almost asleep when he felt the bed shift slightly. A second later, a soft whisper-bark came from the end of his bed.

Peter cracked one eye open to see Nala staring at him expectantly.

He blinked. “You know there’s a whole bed for you right there, right?” He said, indicating the entire rest of the bed.

Nala put her butt in the air and her chin on the ground, in a playful position. Her little nub wagging.

Peter sighed but lifted the covers. Immediately, the dog jumped up and made herself comfortable up against his stomach, her lightly colored fur was itchy against him, but she huffed whenever he moved, so he just fell asleep like that.

  -

(The next afternoon, after school)

Tony had been half-distracted by a blueprint when Peter shuffled into the workshop, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie. It wasn’t unusual for him to wander in, he’d been spending more time here lately, but something about his posture caught Tony’s attention. He looked… hesitant. Almost guilty.

Tony swiped the prints away, just leaving the home screen. “What’s up, kid?”

Peter shifted on his feet. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Took a breath. “Um… I wanted to ask you for something.”

That was new.

Peter never asked for anything.

Tony’s brows furrowed slightly, but he forced himself to keep his voice casual. “Sure. What do you need?”

Peter hesitated again. That just made Tony more concerned.

Finally, Peter exhaled, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Some… Money?”

Tony blinked. That was definitely new.

He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table. “Alright,” he said carefully. “How much are we talking?”

Peter swallowed. “I-I don’t really- know. Maybe- a couple thousand?”

Tony’s concern deepened. That was a lot of money for a teenager to ask for out of nowhere. He’d give Peter anything, but he needed to know why.

He tilted his head. “Peter, I’m happy to give you however much you need, but… what’s it for?”

Peter glanced away, looking even guiltier. “It’s not for me.”

Of course it wasn’t. Tony huffed a small breath, shaking his head. “Didn’t think it was, but humor me.”

Peter hesitated for another long second, then finally admitted, “It’s for Mr. Delmar.”

Tony frowned. “The guy who runs that sandwich shop?”

Peter nodded. “The same one you tracked me down in.” He shifted again, like he was bracing himself for judgment. “His shop got destroyed. He lost a lot. I- I just wanted to help him get back on his feet.”

Tony’s expression softened.

Peter had finally asked for money, not for himself, not for something he wanted, but to help someone else.

He’d been sitting on a multi-billion-dollar fortune for weeks and hadn’t even thought about using any it for himself. But the second someone else needed help? He was here, hesitant about asking, but still asking.

Tony exhaled, shaking his head with a small smile. “You’re really something, kid.”

Peter frowned slightly. “What?”

Tony just smiled. “Nothing. You got it. I’ll make sure it’s covered.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, really?”

Tony snorted. “Of course, really. What, you think I was gonna say no?”

Peter looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “I dunno. It’s a lot of money.”

“Not to me, it’s not.” Tony said easily. “And if it’s gonna make you happy, then I’d do it anyway.”

Peter’s shoulders relaxed, his expression shifting into something like relief. “Thank you.” he said quietly.

Tony just reached over and ruffled his hair. “Anytime, bud.”

Peter ducked away, but the small smile on his face didn’t fade.

Within two weeks, Delmar’s shop was as good as new, and Peter was so happy about it.  

Tony just shook his head.

The kid had a billion-dollar bank account and had used it to fix a sandwich shop.

He really was something else.

  -

It was late, probably too late for Harley to still be awake, but he had a feeling Peter was up, he usually was, and he wanted his opinion on something for school. So, he didn’t bother knocking when he pushed Peter’s door open, expecting to find him hunched over his desk or lying awake staring at the ceiling, or maybe not even home.

Instead, he froze in the doorway.

Peter was sitting on the edge of his bed, his back turned toward the door, a deep slash running across the back of his shoulder. Like- along his entire shoulder blade to his armpit. It was still bleeding, but Peter was trying to clean it up himself, wincing as he reached around awkwardly with a disinfectant wipe.

Harley’s stomach twisted.

“Dude, what the hell?”

Peter startled, immediately yanking the blanket up over his shoulder as he twisted around. “Harley- what are you- ?”

But it was too late. Harley had already seen.

His hands clenched at his sides as he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He felt sick. And angry. Peter had no one for this. No one but him. And what was Harley supposed to do when it got serious? When it was more than a cut he could slap a bandage on?

Peter looked guilty, his eyes darting away.

Harley exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You- dammit, Peter.”

Peter swallowed hard. “I didn’t-” 

Harley was staring at him like he was about to either throw up or punch a wall, so he seemed to think it better to just shut up.

Harley let out a sharp breath through his nose, rubbing a hand down his face before jerking his head toward the bathroom. “Go. Now.”

Peter hesitated. “Harley, I-”

“Now, Peter.”

There was no room for argument in his voice, so Peter sighed and pushed himself off the bed, heading to the connecting bathroom. Harley followed right behind him, flipping on the light and grabbing the first-aid kit from under the sink. (Which Harley had insisted on putting there)

“Sit.” Harley ordered, and Peter obeyed, lowering himself onto the closed toilet lid as Harley crouched beside him. He peeled back the soaked bandage Peter had managed to haphazardly press over the wound, wincing at the deep gash. “Jesus, dude. This needs stitches. Like- a normal person would be bleeding out and dying from this.”

Peter groaned, already shaking his head. “I’m not a normal person. I’ll be fine. It’ll be gone in the next forty-eight hours, probably less.”

Harley didn’t look convinced, his jaw tight as he pulled out some disinfectant. “Yeah, well, it’s here right now, so shut up and let me help.”

Peter sighed but didn’t fight him as Harley worked, dabbing disinfectant over the wound with a sharp sting before pressing a bandage over it.

“You’re lucky you don’t get scars.” Harley muttered after a moment, carefully securing the bandage.

Peter huffed out a dry laugh. “Perks of the job.”

Harley didn’t look amused.

  -

Peter’s back was against the wall, both physically and figuratively. He had expected Harley to be mad, honestly he had braced himself for it the moment Harley stepped into the room. But nothing could have prepared him for the hurt in his brother’s eyes. He felt so guilty. Harley looked like Peter had just run his dog over. Anger and sadness.

Harley had his arms crossed, frustration written all over his face. “If you can’t tell me everything, then what are we even doing, Pete?” His voice wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t soft either. It was the kind of voice that demanded an answer.

Peter swallowed hard, the words not at all wanting to leave his mouth. He wanted to say it’s nothing. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. But he knew Harley wouldn’t just stop worrying until he got an answer.

So he told him. Everything.

About the party. About how he left. About the weapons and the river and the weight of his suit dragging him under, and drowning. About the way his lungs burned and how he had barely, barely made it back to the surface.

Harley interrupted him. “Hang on- so dad dragged out of a freezing cold river in the middle of the night, and you chose to just brush it off?”

Peter didn’t really have anything to say to that other than, “Yeah.”

Harley didn’t say anything for a minute, just stared at him, his jaw tight. “Is that what the nightmare was about?” he finally asked.

Peter hesitated. He wanted to say yes. That would have been easy. But instead, he nodded and muttered, “Some of it.”

And then Harley’s eyes flicked over him, taking in the faint bruises on his arms, the way he held himself, the exhaustion that Peter tried so hard to hide.

Harley crossed his arms, frustration written all over his face as he stood in the middle of Peter’s room. “You’re gonna get yourself killed, Peter.”

Peter sighed, running a hand down his face. “I’m fine, Harley.”

Harley scoffed. “Fine? You were literally bleeding alone in your bedroom ten minutes ago.”

Peter turned away. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“That’s not the point!” Harley snapped, stepping closer. “You get hurt all the time, and you just- you hide it. You don’t tell anyone. You don’t ask for help. And before you start with your whole ‘I don’t want you to worry’ speech, too bad, because I already do.”

Peter clenched his fists, still feeling guilty. “I don’t want you to worry.” he muttered, voice quieter now. “I can handle this.”

Harley’s expression softened for a second, but he shook his head. “That’s not the point, either. I know you can handle it, Pete. But that doesn’t mean you should have to do it alone.”

Peter looked away. “I’m sorry, but I’m not just going to up and quit being Spider-Man just because you worry. I have to do this. It’s my job! My responsibility.” His voice was firm, but Harley caught the hint of something else, something fragile. Fear? Beneath his voice.

“I get that.” Harley said, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. “I do. But it’s also your life. And I want you to actually keep it.”

Peter’s breath hitched slightly, but he quickly masked it. “I can’t control what happens out there.”

Harley huffed. “Maybe not. But you can be more careful. You can let people help you.”

Peter hesitated before nodding. “I’ll try.”

Harley studied him for a moment before sighing, running a hand through his hair. “Good. Because, Pete… you’re not alone. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He wasn’t trained. He had been lucky. But luck wasn’t enough. If he kept going like this, pushing himself past his limits, fighting without a plan, without technique or strategy, one day, he wouldn’t get back up.

Peter looked away, his throat tight. He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself. But it was true. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until he finally forced out some words.

He let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. His heart was still pounding from Harley’s words, from finally admitting out loud what had been gnawing at him for weeks.

“I, uh…” He hesitated, his fingers curling into the hem of his sleeve. “Dad offered Spider-Man training.”

Harley blinked. “Training?”

Peter nodded. “With the Avengers.”

There was a beat of silence before Harley snorted. “And you’re over here struggling with whether or not that’s a good idea?”

Peter groaned, slouching forward, elbows on his knees. “I want to.” he admitted. “I know I need it. I know he’s right. I almost drowned, Harley. Not because I wasn’t strong enough, but because I was stupid. Because I don’t know what I’m doing.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I just- something about it feels like a bad idea.”

Harley raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And what part of ‘I am currently fighting crime without proper training’ seems like a better idea?”

Peter groaned. “You’re not helping.”

Harley shrugged. “Not trying to help. Trying to make you see that you’re being dumb.”

Peter scowled. “I know I need training. But you know what else is a bad idea? Letting a group of geniuses, superspies, and superheroes get a close enough look at me to recognize my voice, the way I talk, my height, my fighting style, anything. It’s too risky.”

Harley made a face. “Okay, yeah, I get that. But dude, you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Like, ever. And that’s saying a lot, considering Tony Stark is literally our father.”

Peter scoffed, looking away, but Harley wasn’t done.

“If you’re that worried about them recognizing you, just- fix it. Change it. Build a voice changer or something. I bet you could make one in, like, a day.”

Peter hesitated, but the logic was solid. He could make a voice changer. And if he tweaked his suit a little, maybe adjusted his fighting style, changed his posture, limited his usual movements, maybe he could pull this off.

Harley saw the gears turning in Peter’s head and smirked. “See? You know I’m right.”

Peter rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

“Besides,” Harley continued, leaning back against the bed, “you’re already on their radar, man. You’re not exactly subtle. At this point, getting trained is just gonna make you less suspicious. They’re gonna think you’re hiding something.”

Peter sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “I hate when you make sense.”

Harley grinned. “That’s why I do it.”

Peter let out a long breath, his fingers drumming against his knee. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Harley nodded approvingly. “Good. I think it’s a good idea.”

Peter glanced at him. “But if this backfires, I’m blaming you.”

Harley snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Peter groaned, chucking a pillow at him. “Shut up.”

Harley just laughed.

Peter’s expression went serious again. “How though? He only gave me a panic button.”

So, they discussed ideas, how he would approach the Avengers to accept their training offer, and what modifications he could do to his suit to not get caught.

This was going to end in disaster, he could already tell.

  -

Chapter Text

Patrol had been… boring. Not that Peter was complaining, boring meant nobody was getting hurt, and that was always a win for him. But it also meant he was getting restless, swinging aimlessly through Queens with no actual reason.

There had been the usual stuff, like stopping a thief, helping an old lady carry her groceries across the street (he didn’t even need to, she was surprisingly strong for an 80-year-old), and helping a drunk guy back to his apartment safely. All in all, it was a slow night.

Which was fine. Really.

But MJ and Ned were supposed to come over soon, and he knew that if he stayed out too long, Harley would get annoyed with him. So, he decided to call it a night and swung his way back home.

Peter climbed up the side of the tower and slipped in through his window, not even bothering to check his surroundings for whatever reason.

He yanked off his mask, ruffling his hair to get rid of the flattened down look. He made his way to the mirror to fix the mess his curls had become, when he froze.

Because in the reflection, standing right behind him, were MJ and Ned.

MJ’s arms were frozen awkwardly by her side, her eyes wide in shock but otherwise unreadable. Ned’s mouth was hanging open, opening and closing like a goldfish, completely at a loss for words.

Peter’s stomach dropped.

Harley, who had just walked in, took one look at the situation and smacked his forehead. “You idiot.”

MJ was the first to recover. She looked him dead in the eyes. “You’re Spider-Man?”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut for a second before facing her with an awkward, guilty smile that came out more as a grimace. “Uhhh… surprise?”

Ned sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh my gosh. My best friend is Spider-Man.” Then he squealed, bouncing on his feet. “My best friend is Spider-Man!”

“Shhh!” Peter lunged forward, putting a hand over Ned’s mouth. “Do you want to get me caught?”

MJ’s eyes narrowed, taking in his suit, the way he had just casually swung in through a window. “This… actually explains a lot.”

Ned flailed under Peter’s grip, pushing his hand away. “Dude! How long have you been-”

“Seven months.”

MJ blinked. “And you never told us?”

Peter grimaced. “It’s not exactly something I could just casually bring up, MJ.”

Harley scoffed. “No, but you could’ve been smarter about it. You didn’t even check to see if they were here first? Amateur move.”

Peter groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Okay, fine! My bad! But please, you guys can’t tell anyone. Especially my parents.”

MJ raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Peter hesitated. He really didn’t want to get into this. But MJ was waiting, and Ned looked like he was about to explode with curiosity, and Harley was watching him like he already knew where this was going.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because if he finds out, he’ll make me stop.”

Ned frowned. “I mean… yeah? You literally almost die, like, all the time.”

Peter shook his head. “No, you don’t get it. I have a responsibility to protect people, and if I get caught, they’re going to lock me away in the tower forever and roll me up in bubble wrap.”

MJ tilted her head. “Okay, but… would that be so bad?”

Peter raises both hands and pulls at his curls. “Yes. It would.” His voice was firm, confident. “I need this, guys. I’ve been doing this for months, before I even knew my family still wanted me, before I had anyone but you and May and Ben. If I stop, if I just sit back and do nothing, people die.”

Silence.

Ned stared at him, exasperatedly. “Jeez, dude.”

Peter shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

MJ studied him, then finally nodded. “Alright. We won’t tell him.”

Ned threw a hand over his heart, closing his eyes dramatically. “I swear, I’ll take this secret to my grave.”

Peter felt relief flood over him. “Thanks, guys.”

Just then, footsteps echoed from the hall, something only Peter could hear clearly.

Peter scrambled, diving into his dark closet.

Harley’s eyes widened. “Crap, that’s Dad-”

 The door swung open, and Tony poked his head in. “What’s up? You guys doin’ teenager-y things?”

They all froze.

Tony squinted at them. “Why do you all look like you just got caught committing a felony? Where’s Peter?”

MJ, without missing a beat, deadpanned, “He’s in the bathroom, and we’re just talking about school.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “Gross. Carry on.” He turned to leave, and closing the door behind him.

The second the door closed, Peter let out a shaky breath.

MJ side-eyed him. “You’re gonna get caught eventually.”

Peter shook his head. “Not if I can help it. Or- at least not till I’m eighteen. Hopefully.”

"You knew?" MJ asked, turning to Harley, her voice edged with something between disbelief and exasperation.

Harley nodded, his arms crossed. "Yeah. I haven't for long, just when he decided to jump out his window a hundred stories up in the middle of the night. Scared the crap out of me."

MJ let out a quiet huff, shaking her head. "Of course you did."

They had all sat down, MJ on the floor with her legs crossed, Ned on the edge of Peter’s bed, Peter sitting against the wall, still looking sort of like he wanted to bolt out of the room.

It didn’t take long before the questions started raining down on him.

“How strong are you?”

“Can you, like, actually stick to walls?”

“Do the webs come out of you or did you make them?”

Peter groaned, tipping his head back against the wall. “Guys!”

“Do your webs dissolve or do you have to go back and clean them up?”

Then MJ asked with a concerned frown, “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

Harley huffed, rolling his eyes, and Peter shot him a glare.

“Sort of." Peter answered hesitantly, crossing his arms. "Harley talked me into accepting the Avengers’ offer for training and-"

Ned gasped loudly. “You’re training with the Avengers?”

MJ gave Peter a look. “That’s a great way to get caught.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his face. “I know, which is why I’m making some modifications to my suit to keep that from happening.”

“Like what?” MJ asked, her expression skeptical.

“Like a voice modifier, a way to make myself appear taller…” Peter counted on his fingers before shrugging. “And I’m gonna try to talk like a mature adult, so no one realizes I’m a teenager.”

Harley snorted. “Good luck with that.”

MJ smirked. “Yeah, I give that two days before someone calls you out.”

Peter huffed. He couldn’t win. “Well, I do need help. So, it’s either risk my identity, or risk dying because I have no real training. Take your pick.”

Ned, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement. “Dude, you should let me help with the modifications!”

Peter brightened. “Yeah? You’d wanna do that?”

“Uh, obviously!” Ned beamed. “That sounds so awesome! You should teach me all about your tech.  I’ve always thought it was awesome, and you always just nodded along.”

Peter grinned. “Alright. Sure.”

MJ flopped onto Peter’s previously neatly made bed, pulling out a book from her bag. Harley made himself comfortable in the beanbag chair in the corner, also grabbing something to read, while Peter and Ned started tinkering with the small device Peter had been working on for his voice changer.

A movie played in the background, but no one was really watching it. MJ and Harley were both absorbed in their books, while Peter and Ned huddled over the mess of wires and circuits sprawled across Peter’s desk.

“You know,” Ned started, adjusting the tiny speaker, “you could make your voice sound like anything. Like, you could go full Darth Vader.”

Peter gave him an unimpressed look. “I don’t want to sound like Darth Vader.”

“Okay, but what about Bane?”

Peter sighed. “Not doing Bane.”

“Fine, fine. But, like, what if you went super deep and serious? Like-” Ned cleared his throat before dramatically lowering his voice. “‘I’m Spider-Man.’”

Peter narrowed his eyes at him.

Harley snickered from across the room without looking up. “That was terrible. What are you, a wannabe batman?”

Ned threw up his hands. “It was an example!”

Peter rolled his eyes but tested the device anyway, fiddling with the settings.

“Testingggg…” His voice came out garbled, almost robotic. He twisted a few more knobs and tried again. “Hey Ned, this sounds terrible.”

The voice that came out was super deep, like a bad movie villain.

Harley burst out laughing, putting his hands under his armpits. “Oh my god, you sound like the guy who does movie trailer voice overs!”

MJ finally glanced up, smirking. “Very intimidating.”

Peter groaned, dropping his head onto the desk. “I’m never gonna figure this outttt…” He mumbled, face squished against the surface.

“No, wait, I have an idea.” Ned started adjusting the settings, messing with the pitch.

Peter sat back, arms crossed, while Ned fiddled with the device. After a few more tests (and some teasing from Harley and MJ), they finally found a setting that made Peter sound more like a deep-voiced, serious adult instead of a teenager that was trying too hard.

"Better." MJ commented, turning a page in her book.

"Yeah, but you still have to act like an adult.” Harley pointed out.

Peter sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

They stayed like that for a while, the movie still playing in the background, everyone busy, when MJ suddenly turned her head towards Peter, studying him like a textbook.

“So,” she started, her voice casual but obviously leading somewhere. “What exactly can you do?”

Peter, who had been fiddling with the voice modifier, looked up in confusion. “Huh?”

Ned elbowed him. “Yeah! Like, we know you’re Spider-Man now, but what are your actual powers? Can you fly?”

Peter snorted. “No Ned… I can’t fly.”

“Super speed?” Ned guessed.

“Sorta I guess?”

“Laser vision?”

“I- what? No!”

“Can you turn invisible?”

Peter gave him a deadpan look. “Ned, now you’re just listing random superhero powers.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “So just tell us then.”

Peter hesitated, shifting where he sat at his desk. It wasn’t that he minded telling them, Ned and MJ knowing was kind of a relief, actually. But still, talking about what he could do made him feel... exposed?

He sighed. “Alright, um... Well I’ve got super strength, obviously. And… Enhanced hearing, which is kinda a blessing and a curse. The whole ‘climbing walls/sticky’ thing. And then there’s my spider sense, which basically lets me react before things happen or know when something’s coming. Oh, and healing. I guess its just a lot faster than a normal person. A broken arm that would take you six weeks to heal from, I’d heal from in twenty-four hours.”

Ned’s eyes were practically sparkling. “That. Is. Awesome.”

MJ, on the other hand, tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “Wait. So you heal fast?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah?”

“And you have super strength?”

Another nod.

“And your reflexes are basically unbeatable?”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going with this?”

MJ folded her arms. “I’m just wondering why exactly, you’ve been letting Flash bully you for this long, when you could literally toss him across a room with one hand.”

Ned gasped dramatically. “Oh my gosh, she’s right.” He turned to Peter, eyes wide. “Dude. Why?”

Peter groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. He knew this was coming.

“It’s not that simple.” he mumbled.

MJ scoffed. “Oh, really? Because it sounds pretty simple to me.”

Peter shook his head. “No, it’s not. I couldn’t fight back before, so why should I now?”

MJ frowned, clearly not following. “What do you mean?”

Peter sighed, leaning back against the bed. “I wasn’t always strong. I wasn’t always fast, or tough, or any of that. Before I got bitten, I was just... me. Weak, nerdy, asthmatic Peter Parker, wearing half inch thick glasses, and never being able to defend myself. If I fought back then, I would’ve just gotten beat even more. But now? Now it wouldn’t even be a fight. I wouldn’t just be standing up for myself, I’d be humiliating him. And that’s not fair. It’s not who I want to be.”

MJ and Ned were quiet for a moment, letting that sink in.

Peter continued, his voice softer now. “It’s not just about if I can fight back. It’s about whether I should. And I don’t want to be the guy who uses his powers to make himself feel better or more powerful. That’s not what they’re for.”

MJ stared at him for a moment before finally sighing. “Okay. That’s actually... kinda admirable.”

Ned nodded. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still think Flash is a jerk, but... I guess I get it.”

Peter smirked. “Wow, that means a lot coming from you guys.” He laughed.

“Shut up.” Ned said, shoving his shoulder.

Harley looked up from his book. “I still think you shouldn’t just be letting him treat you the way he does.”

“I would agree with that.” MJ responded.

She gave peter a side eye. “Still think you should’ve at least tripped him a few times, though.”

Peter laughed. “Yeah, well... maybe I’ll start getting accidentally clumsy.”

That got a laugh from both of them, though Harley kept quiet, watching them.

The conversation shifted, moving on to other things, but the relief Peter felt, knowing they understood him just a little better? It felt nice.

And so did not having to lie to everyone in his life.

They hung out like that for a while, MJ and Harley reading, Ned and Peter tinkering, the noise playing from the movie playing in the background.

Then, out of nowhere, the door burst open.

Morgan came running in, breathless with excitement. “It’s time to eat!”

Peter smiled, looking up. “Alright, Mo, we’re coming-”

She barely acknowledged him before spotting MJ. Her eyes lit up. “MJ!” She squealed.

Before MJ could even process what was happening, Morgan launched herself at the older teenage girl. MJ barely had time to sit up before the littlest Stark was wrapped around her in a tight hug.

MJ blinked, surprised for a second, before a small smile broke across her face. “Hey, Morgan.”

Morgan grinned. “I didn’t know you were coming over!”

MJ ruffled her hair. “Neither did I. Your brother’s bad at giving details.”

Morgan pulled back, beaming. “Well, I’m so glad you’re here!”

Morgan had met MJ a couple of times in passing when either Tony or Pepper was picking Harley and Peter up from school.

The first time, Morgan had been waiting by the car when she noticed MJ standing nearby and, out of pure curiosity, stared at her until MJ glanced over and raised an eyebrow and a small smile. Another time, she saw MJ again while clinging to Pepper’s hand, eyeing the stack of books in MJ’s arms with interest before being put into the car.

Over time, Morgan started to recognize her, taking note of the way she always seemed unimpressed, but had a quiet, smart, and funny sort of personality that Morgan liked. She always called her brothers 'losers', which she thought was really funny. She made it a habit to wave whenever she saw MJ, grinning when MJ finally started acknowledging her with a small nod or a smile in return. One day though, they actually talked, and Morgan decided that she absolutey loved her brother's best friend (Girlfriend?)

Eventually, Morgan practically begged her parents to go with them to pick her big brothers up, just so she can tell MJ about what craft she did that day at school, or just give her a hug.

Peter smirked. “You realize I’m here too, right?”

Morgan didn’t even look at him. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Harley snickered.

MJ, meanwhile, just shook her head with an amused smile, as Morgan finally let go.

Ned put his hand up to his chest dramatically. “Man. That was adorable.” He teased.

MJ rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the slight fondness in her expression. "Whatever."

Peter grinned as they all got up, heading toward the kitchen together.

  -

They all made their way to the dinner table, Peter noticing that Ned and MJ were looking around with wide eyes, taking in the sleek, modern design of the Stark Tower penthouse.

“This is insane.” Ned muttered under his breath, nudging MJ. “We’re actually inside Stark Tower.”

“I know.” MJ said, her eyes scanning the room. “Kinda crazy.”

They had barely settled down in their chairs when Pepper walked in, greeting everyone warmly. Her gaze landed on his friends, and she smiled. “You must be Ned and MJ.”

Both of them straightened up immediately.

“Uh- yes, ma’am.” Ned said quickly, his voice high pitched.

“It’s really nice to meet you.” MJ said, much calmer, though her usual deadpan was softened by curiosity and excitement. Pepper Potts was one of the few famous people MJ really looked up to. She’s a woman CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world, what teenage girl wouldn’t look up to her?

Pepper’s smile grew. “It’s nice to meet you both, too. Peter’s told me a lot about you.”

Peter, who was sipping on some water, choked on it.

“Oh?” MJ turned to him, her face the definition of smug. “Did he?”

Pepper just laughed. “Dinner’s grilled chicken and Alfredo. That okay with everyone?”

“Oh, definitely!” Ned said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Sounds good.” MJ added.

The dinner itself was pretty relaxed, full of easy conversation, joking, and teasing. Ned and MJ, who were curious about Peter’s new life outside of school, took the opportunity to pry more information out of him, which was something Peter wasn’t particularly thrilled about.

“So, Peter?” Pepper said casually, “Ned was just telling me about your science fair project.”

Peter, who had been in the middle of taking a bite, froze. He slowly lowered his fork, eyes flicking to Ned in betrayal. Peter looked like he was about to start crying, much to MJ’s amusement.

“Oh, yeah!” Ned said, completely oblivious to Peter’s silent begging for him to please shut up. “We’ve been working on it for months! It’s super cool! The fair that we were gonna present it at, is in two weeks.”

Peter kept his head down, as if maybe if he ignored them, they would drop the subject. But since when had he ever been that lucky?

“So what’s it about then?” Tony asked, resting his elbows on the table and looking at Peter with interest.

Peter, still avoiding eye contact, mumbled, “Nothing important.”

Ned, of course, had no chill. “Dude, what? It’s literally about Iron Man’s repulsors!”

The table went silent for a second. Peter could feel every set of eyes turn to him and Ned. He just buried his face in his hands.

Pepper raised an eyebrow with a small smile. “You never mentioned that before.”

Peter lifted his head, already defensive. “Okay, in my defense, we started the project before I met you guys, So it’s not my fault!”

MJ and Harley were on either side of him, snickering. Ned, who was on the other side on Harley, realized that he had just embarrassed Peter in front of the whole table, so he looked apologetic. Peter wasn’t actually mad though.

“I kinda forgot about it.” Peter admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not like we were trying to, y’know, steal technology or anything. It’s more of a theory based presentation, how repulsors could be adapted for different applications.”

Tony, instead of looking annoyed, looked amused. “You forgot about a project that’s literally about my tech?”

Peter crossed his arms, grumbling, “I had a lot going on.”

Tony smirked. “Well, now I’m excited to see it.”

Peter’s face burned. “Great. That’s not intimidating at all.”

Wanting desperately to change the subject, he blurted out. “You know what else is coming up? Harley’s competition! Let’s talk about that!”

Harley, who had been nibbling on some chicken, set his fork down and took the opportunity to steer the conversation away from Peter and Ned’s science fair project. “Yeah, actually! You guys should come.”

Ned perked up. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s tomorrow, so, uh, kind of last minute, but-”

“Tomorrow?” MJ asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harley just shrugged. “What? You guys don’t have plans.”

Ned grinned. “No, that’s awesome! I’ve never even been even close to a horse before.”

“Well, prepare yourself.” Harley said with a smirk. “They’re big.”

MJ, seeming more interested, nodded. “I’d actually like to see you jump.”

“Then you’ll get to see me win,” Harley said confidently.

Peter snorted. “You’re so cocky.”

Harley shrugged. “Can’t argue with facts.”

They finished up dinner, the conversation shifting between competitions, school, and teasing Peter and his terrible attempts at keeping secrets.

(Heh, little do they know)

After dinner, they did the dishes, and the four of them headed back to Peter’s room.

They settled in for a movie, with MJ and Harley lounging and actually watching the movie, while Peter and Ned tinkered a little more. Peter grabbed the popcorn bowl and mindlessly snacked on it while they watched.

At some point, Ned reached over, only to pause and stare at the now empty container.

“Dude.” he said flatly, holding it up.

Peter blinked at him. “What?”

“You ate all the popcorn.”

Peter glanced down at the empty bowl, then back at Ned. “Sorry. Super metabolism..”

Harley snorted. “Yup.”

Ned sighed dramatically. “Well, now we have to pause the movie. Again.”

Peter rolled his eyes but stood up. “No, it’s fine, I’ll pop more. You don’t need to pause it.”

He went to the kitchen to make more popcorn.

Peter was on his way back to sit with everyone else, when his eyes caught something.

The piece of alien tech, just sitting there among the rest of his stuff behind his cup of colorful pens.

For a second, he just stared at it. What was he going to do about that? What could he do?

He needed to figure out where it came from, and what kind of information he could get from it. But how?

“Peter?”

Peter blinked and looked up to see MJ watching him from where she sat on his bed.

“You good?” she asked, giving him a slightly narrowed look.

He hesitated for a second before nodding. “Yup, Just thinking.”

He opened the bag of popcorn, pouring it into the bowl before going back to the others, forcing himself to push the thoughts away.

They finished the movie, and by the time the credits rolled, Harley stood up, stretching. “Alright, I’m calling it a night. I have a massive competition tomorrow, and I actually want to win. Can’t do that if I’m exhausted.”

Ned yawned. “Yeah, we should probably sleep too.”

MJ nodded in agreement.

They all got ready for bed, Peter convinced MJ to take his bed, and Ned and Peter grabbed sleeping pads for the floor, stacking a ridiculous amount of blankets on top of themselves.

Ned got comfortable before grinning. “This is awesome.”

Peter huffed a laugh. “Yeah. It kinda is.”

  -

The next morning started with a loud knock on Peter’s bedroom door, followed by Tony’s voice cutting through the quiet.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties, it’s nine! We gotta be there by ten. Let’s go! Get up.” He knocked a few more times, just to be annoying.

Peter groaned, burying his face in his pillow. MJ mumbled something nobody understood from the bed, and Ned made a sound of protest from his sleeping bag on the floor.

“Come on, you don’t wanna be late!” Tony called again. “Harley, Pepper, and Morgan already left, and I’m not dealing with Pepper if I let you kids sleep in.”

That got Peter moving. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes before looking over at MJ and Ned, who still looked half-asleep.

“C’mon…” he mumbled, dragging himself to his feet. “We gotta go.”

It took them a few minutes to wake up, but eventually the three of them made their way to the kitchen, still in their pajamas. They grabbed bowls and filled them with cereal, Peter leaning against the counter while MJ and Ned sat at the island.

Peter stood there picking at the last bits of his cereal with his spoon as he listened to the chaos taking place on the floor below. The Avengers were trying and failing to leave the Tower in an orderly manner. It was a complete disaster, and Peter was thoroughly entertained.

“I am not riding in the same car as Wanda again!” Sam’s voice echoed up through the vents.

What happened last time??

“Oh, come on, Bird Brain, it’s not like I bite!” Wanda’s voice shot back, and Peter could tell she was glaring, even from here. “Unless you want me to-”

“Absolutely not!” Sam cut her off.

“Everyone, just get in a damn vehicle and stop arguing!” Steve’s voice came through, clearly annoyed.

“Okay, Cap, but explain to me why I have to ride with Barnes and his emotional support knife collection.” Clint said dryly.

“Explain to me why I have to ride with you.” Bucky responded.

“Explain to me why I have to ride with any of you.” Natasha added, sounding beyond done with all of them.

Peter smirked, shaking his head. This was better than a movie. He could just imagine MJ’s unimpressed look when she saw this mess, and Ned was going to absolutely lose it over the fact that the actual Avengers were going to Harley’s competition, and he would get to meet them in person.

“Why are we even taking multiple cars? We could just take the Quinjet and be there in five minutes.” Clint pointed out.

“Because, apparently, we have to ‘blend in’ like normal people.” Sam replied, and Peter could practically hear the air quotes.

“Yeah, because a bunch of superheroes rolling up in multiple black SUVs is totally inconspicuous.” Wanda deadpanned.

“Wait, who’s riding with Thor?” Peter heard someone ask.

“Absolutely not. I am not dealing with his weird space goat thing again.” Sam muttered.

“Mjolnir is not a goat.” Thor said indignantly.

“No, but you brought one last time, and I don’t trust you not to do it again.”

Peter bit his lip to keep from laughing, glancing at MJ and Ned, who were still eating. They had no idea what they were about to get into when they got there. He could already see it, MJ raising an eyebrow at the chaos, Ned absolutely freaking out and squealing in excitement. It was going to be so funny.

Peter drank the rest of the milk from his cereal and washed the bowl off before putting it in the dishwasher. He sat on the empty chair next to MJ, fully content listening to the Avengers continue their bickering.

Tony walked in a few minutes later, already dressed in his usual suit, but looking just as tired as they were. “You three look like you haven’t slept in a week. Zombies.”

MJ raised an eyebrow. “Maybe because someone woke us up by banging on the door like a SWAT team?”

Tony smirked. “You’re welcome. Eat faster.”

They did, finishing off their cereal and heading back to Peter’s room to change. Peter pulled on a white hoodie and some jeans, MJ changed into some leggings and a light grey top, putting a dark grey cardigan over it. Ned had on a T-shirt with some nerdy Star Wars reference.

They made their way down to the car, Peter having lots of emotions on the inside. Excitement, definitely- he wanted to be there for Harley, to support him in something he loved. But beneath that, there was sadness.

He had missed so much of Harley’s life. He had missed birthdays, big moments, things that mattered. And sure, he was here now, but there was no getting back the time he had lost.

Peter swallowed, pushing those thoughts away as they got into the car. He forced a small smile, glancing at MJ and Ned.

“You guys ready?”

Ned smiled widely. “Absolutely. Never seen a horse competition before.”

MJ smirked. “Yeah, this should be interesting.”

  -

Peter heard them before he saw them, the whispers of the crowd shifting as a group of very recognizable figures made their way onto the grounds. He turned just in time to see Thor towering over the rest of the group, his golden hair gleaming in the morning sun as he scanned the area.

The second Thor’s eyes landed on Peter, he brightened. “Ah! Young Peter!” he boomed, causing several heads to turn.

Peter cringed but smiled anyway, walking over to meet them. Ned and MJ followed, but Peter didn’t need to turn around to know that Ned was probably bouncing with excitement.

Thor looked down at the two beside him. “And who might these two be?”

Peter gestured between them. “This is Ned and Michelle. They’re my and Harley’s friends.”

Thor nodded with his usual smile. “Ah, so you are the ones young Harley has spoken so fondly of.”

MJ just raised an eyebrow, nodding in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”

Ned, on the other hand, was practically bouncing in place. “Oh my gosh..” he breathed. “You’re Thor. The actual Thor.”

Thor grinned. “Indeed, I am!” He clapped a hand on Ned’s shoulder, almost knocking him over. “It is good to finally meet you!”

Ned’s mouth flapped open and shut like a goldfish. “Oh my gosh.”

Peter tried to keep himself from laughing as the rest of the Avengers filtered in behind Thor, exchanging greetings with the group. Sam gave Peter a fist bump, Natasha nodded at him, and Steve gave a polite smile. Tony, of course, was at the center of it all, acting like he owned the place. Which, to be fair, he probably helped sponsor it in some way.

Just then, Peter felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Pepper smiling at him.

“Harley’s over that way.” she told him, her voice a lot calmer and more gentle than everyone else’s. She pointed toward the competitor’s area.

Peter nodded. “Thanks mom.”

He turned back to Ned and MJ, who were still in varying states of awe of everything that had just happened in the past five minutes. He waved for them to follow. “C’mon, let’s go see Harley before he goes up.”

They weaved through the crowd, eventually spotting Harley standing near the practice ring, adjusting Cooper’s bridle. Peter could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers fidgeted over the leather straps.

Peter didn’t hesitate. He walked right up to his brother and wrapped him in the biggest hug ever. “You’re gonna do great.” He said, voice quiet.

Harley exhaled, the tension easing just a little. “Thanks.” He said, voice muffled in Peter’s huge hug.

Behind them, Ned and MJ walked up.

“Hey, dude.” Ned said, grinning. “Good luck! You’re gonna crush it.”

MJ nodded. “You’ve got this.”

Harley gave them a small smile. “Thanks, guys.”

Then Ned, still clearly distracted by what had just happened, blurted. “Dude, all of the Avengers are here.”

Harley groaned. “Oh my g- seriously, the whole team came?” He gave Peter a look.

Peter just grinned, a little teasingly. “Yep! We all wanted to come and support you. You’re gonna do awesome.”

Harley sighed, he obviously wasn’t mad though, it was more of a nervous sigh. He gave them each a quick hug. “Alright, I’m up after this guy, so I gotta get over there.”

Peter nodded, watching as Harley led Cooper toward the ring, meeting Lillian near the entrance. He was proud of his brother. Harley had this. He just knew it.

  -

Harley took a deep breath, making sure he had his balance as he adjusted his grip on the reins. It was actually a beautiful day. The crisp morning air, the voices filling the stands in the distance.

He ran his free hand over Cooper’s speckled neck, feeling the warmth of his horse beneath him. Cooper, his steady rock, his partner through all of this. The big guy had carried him through his best rides, his worst falls, and the countless hours of training leading up to today. Cooper flicked an ear back at him, sensing his nerves, and Harley forced himself to loosen his grip on the reins. This wasn’t going to work if he stressed Cooper out.

You’ve done this a thousand times. Just another ride. No big deal.

And for the first time, Peter was here to see him.

For years, that had been nothing more than a wish, an impossible dream he refused to let go of (Or get his hopes up for). He’d clung to the tiny dinosaur keychain that Peter had given him when they were six. He had kept it with him through every competition, every birthday, every holiday, every painful anniversary of the day they were taken. It had been the only piece of Peter he had left, the only way to feel like his brother was still with him.

And now, Peter was with him. Supporting him from the crowd, excited for him.

Harley slid a hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing over the soft, cushiony surface of the little green dinosaur. He had carried it with him for so long, using it as a way to comfort himself, to remind himself of what he’d lost. But now? Now he wasn’t sure he needed it the same way he had before.

He lifted his head, searching the stands, his heartbeat quickening when he spotted his family.

His dad, standing beside his mom, a proud smile on his face. Morgan, bouncing excitedly in her seat. The Avengers scattered around his family and friends.

And Peter. Harley’s throat tightened at the sight of his brother, sitting forward in his seat, his eyes wide with excitement. The second Peter saw him looking, he grinned, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Harley let out a small laugh under his breath, shaking his head.

This was real. Peter was here, watching him, cheering for him.

Harley swallowed, squeezing the stuffed dinosaur one last time before tucking it safely back into his pocket. It had gotten him through a lot, but today, he didn’t really need it.

Today, he had the actual Peter and not just a memory of him.

The announcer’s voice rang out over the speakers.

"Next up, we have Harley Stark, riding Cooper.”

Harley’s heart pounded in his chest. He could hear the polite applause, the quiet cheers from the crowd and other riders, but none of it mattered as much as the sound of Peter’s voice cutting through the noise.

“You got this, Harley!”

Harley took a deep breath and patted Cooper’s neck.

Then, with a final glance at his family, he nudged Cooper forward and rode into the ring.

  -

Harley took a deep breath as he exited the ring, a triumphant grin creeping onto his face despite his best efforts to stay cool about it. He’d done it! He and Cooper had cleared all twelve jumps, only knocking one rail. Not perfect, but good. Really good.

“Stark has secured his spot in the second round.” the commentator announced, and the crowd clapped, a few cheers rising up. Mostly from his family and the team he realized, rolling his eyes with a smile.

Harley slowed Cooper to a walk as he approached Lillian, who was waiting for him just outside the ring. She was already smiling, the kind of proud-but-still-coach face she always had after a solid round.

“You did well.” she told him as he stopped Cooper beside her. “Really solid pace, good control. Just that one rail, what happened?”

Harley blew out a breath and swung his leg over, dismounting smoothly. He ran a hand down Cooper’s speckled neck, feeling his soft coat under his fingers.

“I don’t know.” he admitted. “Maybe I came in too fast?”

“Not really.” Lillian said, shaking her head. “Your approach was fine, but you hesitated. You needed to fold more, commit to the jump.” She gave Cooper a couple of pats. “He knew what to do, but you second-guessed him for a split second. You’ve gotta trust him more.”

Harley huffed out a small laugh, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. You always say that.”

“And I’m always right, aren’t I?” She said with a smile.

Harley turned back to Cooper, pressing his forehead lightly against the horse’s. “You knew what you were doing, huh, bud?” he murmured, running his hand along his neck. Cooper huffed in response, shifting his weight lazily.

Before he could do anything else, he heard his name.

“Harley!”

Harley barely had time to turn before Peter crashed into him, pulling him into a hug so tight it almost knocked the air out of him.

“Dude, that was awesome!” Peter said, pulling back to beam at him. His eyes were shining with excitement, his usual nervous energy buzzing tenfold.

Before Harley could respond, his dad ruffled his hair. “That was great, kid. I’m proud of you.”

Harley ducked his head, his heart warming. His dad wasn’t always vocal about feelings, but when he was, it meant everything.

“Thanks.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Peter gave him a firm nod. “You got this. You’re gonna crush the next round.”

Harley felt a flicker of nerves, but it was covered up by the support coming from Peter and his dad.

“I hope so.” he said, giving them both a small smile.

With one final pat on his shoulder, his dad steered Peter back toward the stands. “We’ll be watching. Everyone else says good luck and that you’re awesome, they just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Harley rolled his eyes, still smiling. “Tell em’ I said thanks.”

Once they were gone, he took Cooper’s reins and led him toward the stables. He needed to walk him out a bit, cool him off and make sure he was feeling alright before the second round.

He chatted with Lillian as they walked, going over strategies for the next round. She reminded him to keep his pace steady, watch his turns, and to trust Cooper.

By the time they reached the stables, Harley felt a lot more clam. He untacked Cooper, running a brush over his coat as the horse stood patiently, only occasionally nudging him when he got too distracted.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Harley said with a small chuckle, giving him a scratch between the ears. “You did all the work, huh, bud?”

Once Cooper was all groomed, Harley gave him some water. Harley grabbed a granola bar from his bag, unwrapping it as he leaned against the stable wall.

As he took a bite, Cooper turned his head, eyeing him like he knew he had food.

“Nope.” Harley said through a mouthful.

Cooper nudged him.

“I said no, dude, this isn’t for you.”

Cooper tossed his head and snorted.

Harley groaned. “Fine, one bite.”

He held out a piece, and Cooper took it, chewing happily.

“Spoiled.” Harley muttered, a fourth of a granola bar poorer.

The time for the second round came closer, and his nerves started to return. But Lillian was there, double-checking his tack, giving him a fist bump before he mounted up.

“You got this,” she said.

Harley sighed, looking toward the entrance to the ring

  -

“And now, entering the ring, we have Harley Stark riding Cooper. If he can keep all the rails up, he’ll easily place.”

The commentator’s voice echoed across the arena, but Harley barely heard it.. He took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back, and gave Cooper a reassuring pat on the neck.

“Alright, bud.” He whispered, “Let’s do this.”

He got the signal for the start of his round. Pressing his heels lightly against Cooper’s sides, he guided him into a forward canter toward the first jump. Cooper’s ears pricked forward.

The first few jumps were clean. They sailed over them with ease, Cooper’s hooves barely skimming the ground as they landed. Harley kept his eyes ahead, planning his turns, and steadying his breathing.

Then came that jump. It was the one he never got right. Not even in practice. He didn’t even know why, it was a normal jump, the only difference was the angle. He always second guessed himself at the last second, and that hesitation had cost him every time.

Harley exhaled and gave Cooper his head, trusting him. He squeezed his legs, feeling Cooper gather himself beneath him.

Trust him.

And just like that, they flew.

The world seemed to slow for a moment as they soared over the rail, clearing it. No knock. No hesitation. Perfect timing.

They landed smoothly, and Harley barely had time to register what had just happened before moving on to the next jump. He almost wanted to laugh.

The rest of the course went perfectly- well, mostly. His form slipped once, and the judge corrected his position over one of the higher jumps. That part always embarrassed him, but he shook it off. He finished strong, guiding Cooper to a smooth, controlled stop before exiting the ring.

As soon as he was out, Lillian practically bounced over to him.

“You did it!” she cheered, grabbing his arm before he had even dismounted. “You cleared it!”

Harley let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, I- yeah. I actually did.”

“See? I told you to trust him!”

He rolled his eyes but grinned. “Okay, yeah, yeah. You were right.”

Lillian smirked, clearly pleased with herself. “Say that again?”

“Not happening.”

She snorted as he dismounted, giving Cooper an affectionate pat. “You two were great out there. Now we just wait for results.”

Harley nodded, feeling his adrenaline start to calm down. He led Cooper back toward the stables, cooling him down while sneaking him a sugar cube as a reward.

Once Cooper was calmed down and all good, Harley grabbed another granola bar and a bottle of Gatorade, taking a seat near the arena to watch the last few rounds, holding Cooper’s lead while he watched everyone else ride.

  -

The tension in Harley’s shoulders never really faded as the last few riders wrapped up their rounds. He stood next to Lillian, arms crossed, trying to act like he wasn’t nervous. Cooper shifted beside him, nuzzling his shoulder, and Harley absently scratched under his mane.

The commentator’s voice rang through the speakers after a few minutes.

“Now for the results of today’s competition.”

Harley sucked in a breath, his heart hammering against his ribs. Months, years of hard work had led to this moment.

“In fifth place, we have Sophia Green, riding Bluebell.”

Harley watched as Sophia, a girl with a bright red jacket, smiled and trotted forward to accept her ribbon.

“In fourth place, we have Marcus Reed, riding Titan.”

Marcus, a boy Harley recognized from past competitions, looked pleased as he took his spot.

“In third place, we have Brianna Hayes, riding Storm.”

Brianna, who stood just a few feet from Harley, smiled smugly and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder before moving to collect her ribbon.

Harley swallowed. There were only two places left.

“And in second place, we have Megan Johnson, riding Aurora.”

A round of polite applause filled the arena as Megan guided her sleek white mare forward, accepting her red ribbon with a sweet smile.

“And in first place, our winner today, with an almost flawless final round, is Harley Stark, riding Cooper!”

For a second, he didn’t move. He just stood there, stunned, staring at the announcer’s booth as the words echoed in his head.

I won. I actually won.

It wasn’t until Lillian shoved his shoulder with a laugh that he snapped out of it.

“Go get your ribbon!” she said with a teasing smile.

A grin split across his face as he swung into the saddle, trotting Cooper forward. The crowd clapped, and as he moved past the stands, he spotted his family- Peter, Tony, Pepper, Morgan, Ned, MJ, Steve, Sam, Bucky, Clint, Nat, Bruce, Wanda and Thor cheering like crazy. (Well, some of them, others were just clapping with a smile.

Peter looks the most exited out of all of them. Bouncing around with the biggest smile.

Harley shook his head with a smile as he reached the end of the line, lining up next to Megan.

“Great job!” Megan said, smiling at him.

“You too!” Harley said, reaching over to give her a high-five. “I swear, I thought you had it. You were killing it out there.”

She sighed, but she was still smiling. “I knocked that last rail. Otherwise, maybe.”

Harley hesitated for half a second before blurting, “Hey, uh- do you wanna go out sometime?”

Megan blinked in surprise, then smirked. “You asking me on a date, Stark?”

“Depends. You saying yes?”

She laughed. “Yeah, I am. How about lunch next Saturday?”

Harley grinned. “Sounds great.”

Before he could say anything else, a scoff came from his other side.

“Unbelievable.” Brianna said, not at all trying to be quiet. “Like his daddy didn’t just buy the judges off.”

Harley tensed, his mood souring in an instant. He turned to see Brianna and Marcus both looking at him with smug, unimpressed expressions.

“He’s not even as experienced as the rest of us.” Marcus added. “We’ve been riding since we were four. What, you started when you were what? Ten?”

Harley’s jaw tightened, and Megan shot them a glare. “He started when he was six, actually. And he won because he was the best today.”

Harley smirked, finally looking at them. “Besides, looks who’s talking. I’m not the one who knocked two rails in the final round.”

Marcus’s face turned red, but Harley didn’t give him the chance to respond. He just rolled his eyes and turned back to Megan. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

She smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

With that, Harley turned Cooper away from the arena, his irritation melting into excitement. He won.

He won!

As soon as he dismounted and handed Cooper off to Lillian, she pulled him into a hug.

“I knew you could do it!” she said excitedly. “You deserved that win.”

Harley hugged her back before stepping away, unable to keep the grin off his face. He turned toward the stands, spotting his family making their way down.

Then Peter launched at him.

Harley barely had time to brace himself before his brother tackled him into the biggest hug he’d ever gotten.

“You won!” Peter said, squeezing him tightly. “You actually won!”

Harley laughed, hugging him just as tight. “Yeah, I did.”

Morgan was next, practically jumping into his arms. Then Pepper, then Tony, and then suddenly Ned and MJ were pulling him into a group hug.

Harley couldn’t stop smiling.

“Told you I’d win.” he teased, directed toward MJ.

MJ rolled her eyes but grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Congrats, cowboy.”

“This was amazing!” Ned said, still bouncing with excitement. “Dude, you rocked it.

  -

The restaurant was one of those fancy-but-not-actually-that-fancy places, the kind where you could get a burger or a simple steak, but they put little sprigs of herbs on the plates to make it look elegant. Harley wasn’t complaining, he was starving, and after a day of competing, celebrating with a massive dinner sounded awesome.

The group took up basically the entire side of the restaurant. The Starks sat near the middle of the long table, while the Avengers filled out both ends, with Morgan right next to Harley, practically bouncing in her seat. Peter sat on his other side. MJ and Ned sat across from him and Peter, and the rest of the team spread out around them, already bickering.

“Congratulations, kid.” Steve said with a smile, clapping Harley on the back as he sat down. “You really nailed it out there.”

“Thanks, Cap.” Harley said, grinning.

“Seriously, though,” Clint added. “I didn’t know you could actually do that. I thought you just liked horses.”

“I do like horses.” Harley said. “I just happen to be decent at riding them too.”

Thor let out an obnoxiously loud laugh. “A noble skill indeed! You have proven yourself worthy, young son of Stark!”

Harley snorted, shaking his head as the server came around, handing out menus. He grabbed his and glanced at Peter, who was smirking at him.

“So..” Peter said, lowering his voice just enough so that only Harley could hear. “Talkin’ to Megan again, I see?”

Harley rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “Shut up.”

Peter’s smirk widened. “I knew it. You like her.”

Harley huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but then leaned in slightly. “I, uh… I got a date with her. Next Saturday.”

Peter opened his mouth, his face surprised but happy for him. “Dude, that’s awesome.”

Harley just shrugged, but he couldn’t hide the tiny bit of excitement bubbling in his chest.

Across the table, MJ arched an eyebrow. “What are you two whispering about?”

Peter and Harley looked at each other, then back at her.

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

MJ didn’t look convinced, but she let it go as everyone started ordering.

Tony, ordered a massive steak for him and Pepper to share, Steve went for grilled chicken, while Thor asked for “the largest portion of food they could provide.” Clint and Natasha got pasta, Bruce went for some avocado salad, and Sam and Bucky had a debate over whether or not the restaurant’s ribs were worth it.

Morgan wanted a steak, so she got a 6 oz, and MJ got a burger, Ned ordered some taco nachos, and Peter went for a burger too.

Harley got a bacon cheeseburger, and when their food arrived, he practically devoured it.

Throughout dinner, the conversation was loud and chaotic. Exactly the way Harley liked it.

Clint told a ridiculous story about a mission gone wrong, while Sam kept interrupting to tell his own version, which was way funnier and embarrassing for Clint. Morgan kept demanding bites of Tony’s food, and Tony, who was weak, gave in every time even though she already ate her own. Steve and Bucky argued over 40s music versus modern music, and MJ jumped in to side with Bucky, which made Steve groan dramatically.

At one point, Thor smacked Peter on the back so hard in a friendly gesture that Peter nearly face planted into his half eaten burger.

Ned, of course, was still starstruck. He kept sneaking glances at the Avengers and leaning over to whisper to Peter.

“This is insane, dude.” Ned whispered. “I’m literally sitting next to Captain America.”

Peter smirked. “Dude, you’ve been sitting next to him for an hour.”

“Yeah, and I still can’t believe it!”

Harley laughed.  “He can hear you ya know.. Super hearing and all?”

Ned looked embarrassed and Steve just smiled and laughed.

  -

Chapter Text

Peter knew it was going to be a bad day before he even opened his eyes.

The alarm set on his phone that went off every day at six, screamed in his ears, the high-pitched ringing noise drilling straight into his skull like someone was stabbing him with a thousand tiny needles. His whole body was heavy, his skin too tight, too warm, his sheets too scratchy against his arms. Everything just felt uncomfortable. His head throbbed with his heartbeat, the worst ache behind his eyes, and every little sound was painfully loud. The hum of the air conditioning, the distant talking from Morgan’s cartoon from down the hall.

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the palms of his hands against them, trying to ease the pain. It didn't work. It just got worse, because now he was awake and aware of everything. Every noise, the sirens, trains, the noises of busses and chatter and car horns honking from outside, the noise of the city.

Yesterday had sucked. It was the cause of this stupid sensory overload.

Flash had been relentless, somehow always finding moments when Harley wasn’t watching to poke and prod at him. It wasn’t even bad, not like it used to be, but it was constant, and Peter hadn’t been willing to create a scene to make him stop. Then there had been that stupid light in English class.

The flickering, the constant crazy blinking right above his head. He’d been stuck under it for the entire hour. No one else had even noticed, just him. By the time class ended, he’d had a headache so bad he thought he was going to throw up.

And now, after a night of uncomfortable sleep, he felt even worse.

Still, staying in bed wasn’t an option. He had a Spanish test today. Peter sat up slowly, trying to keep his movements controlled, but the second his feet hit the floor, his already sensitive skin felt burnt on the cold floor, and he felt dizzy. His head hurt from the noise and light. He felt like there was static crawling all over him, and his entire body was just screaming at him to go back to sleep.

He just had to breathe. It’s fine. He’s fine.

He pushed himself up, wobbling a little, but pushing through the dizziness and the speckles in his vision. His senses were cranked all the way up, and he could hear every creak of the building, every footstep, every voice. It was so overwhelming, a suffocating wave of input that he just couldn’t turn off, no matter how hard he rubbed his eyes, or how long he held his hands over his ears, it was still just as painful and loud as before.

Still, he forced himself through his routine. He got dressed, moving slowly and uncoordinatedly, every movement feeling like it took twice the effort it should. He grabbed his shoes, sitting on the edge of his bed to put them on when he heard three rough knocks on his door.

The sudden loud noise made him flinch, his heart skipping a beat. Even though he was hyperaware of everything going on within 5 blocks of the tower, he still hadn’t heard it coming, and his spider sense was useless right now, in was currently going haywire over everything, even if it wasn’t a danger to him. He hadn’t been able to brace himself, and it just made his headache so much worse.

“Hey, bud?” Tony’s voice came through the door, casual but tinged with concern. “Did your alarm not wake you up? Even Harley is ahead of you in getting ready, and Harley’s a zombie in the mornings. Is everything okay?”

Peter swallowed, forcing himself to not go curl up back in his bed with his hands over his ears. His dad’s voice was so loud, even through the door, and the sound made his headache spike so sharply that he just wanted to sit on the floor and start crying.

But that would make his dad even more concerned, and raise questions, and he could not deal with questions right now.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” he called back, his own voice hurting his ears. He cleared his throat, standing and shaking out his hands before opening the door. He needed to act normal. “Just tired.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, trying to read his face. “You sure? You look-”

Peter didn’t let him finish. “I’m fine.” He gave his dad a quick, forced smile and brushed past him before Tony could say anything else. He had to keep going, because if he stopped, if he actually acknowledged how awful he felt, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

The kitchen was so bright. The sunlight streaming through the floor to ceiling windows felt like needles stabbing into his eyes, making him squint as he sat down at the table. The sound of Harley clinking his spoon against his cereal bowl was making him go crazy.

He focused on his own bowl, picking at his food more than actually eating it.

“Dude.” Harley said around a mouthful of cereal, blinking at him. “You look like you died and came back to life. Heh, you’re more of a zombie than me today.”

Peter huffed a laugh, but it was weak. He didn’t have the energy to make it believable. “Thanks. Really needed that ego boost.”

Harley frowned. “No, seriously, you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Harley didn’t look convinced, but thankfully, he didn’t push. He just shrugged and went back to eating.

Peter barely touched his food. Everything felt wrong. The texture of the cereal was weird and a little painful, the taste overwhelming, even though it was something he usually liked. His stomach twisted, and he felt even more nauseous than when he first stood up.

He forced himself to take a few more bites before giving up.

As they got ready to leave, Tony called after them. “Hey, Happy’s sick, so you guys are walking today. Stay together, and don’t do anything stupid.”

Peter internally groaned. Walking meant more noise, more light, more everything. Perfect. Just perfect.

“Okay,” Harley called, already slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “C’mon, Peter, let’s go before we’re late.”

Peter took a deep breath, focusing on keeping his balance. He could get through today. He’d be fine.

Hopefully the overload would fade in a few hours.

  -

The walk to school was miserable.

Peter kept his head down, focusing on the noise of his footsteps against the pavement, trying to block out the rest of the noisy city. The sun was too bright, the traffic too loud, every honk or screech of tires sending sharp spikes of pain through his head. Harley walked beside him, rambling about something, but Peter barely heard a word of it. The noise, the light, the constant buzz of the city. He just wanted to curl up in his bed again.

He didn't say a single word the entire way there.

By the time they reached the corner where they always met up with Ned and MJ when they walked. Harley had texted them to wait for him and Peter earlier. His head was pounding so hard he could barely think straight.

“Hey, losers.” MJ greeted, taking a sip from her Starbucks cup. “You guys are late.”

Ned grinned. “Let me guess, Harley overslept again?”

Harley huffed, clearly offended. “Actually, I’ll have you know, it was Peter who took forever getting up with morning.”

Peter should've laughed. He should've said something. But instead, their playful, loud bickering grated against his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

“Can you not?” Peter snapped, his voice sharp. The second it was out of his mouth, he regretted it.

Ned blinked, caught off guard. “Uh- what?”

MJ raised an eyebrow. “What’s your problem?”

Peter inhaled sharply, his fingers curling up. He knew he was being rude, but everything was so overwhelming, and he didn’t have the energy to filter himself. Still, he wasn’t trying to be a jerk.