Chapter Text
When Peter woke up, he half-expected Tony to sit him down and tell him that he was, unfortunately, being removed from the team for being such a pathetic little bitch.
But when he opened his eyes, it was to the entire team, asleep on the floor around his hospital bed, equipped with personal sleeping bags and all. Tony and Bucky were slumped on uncomfortable-looking chairs on either side of his bed.
For a moment, a feeling of warmth blossomed in his chest, but he quickly shook it away. There was no way they cared. Not after everything they saw.
As far as he knew, he had been thrown back into his memories and had felt as if they were happening to him for the first time, while the others were observing. As... weird ghosts? His past-self seemed to think they were hallucinations and paid no mind to them, but present-Peter was now beginning to process their little comments. All of which were out of comfort or concern, not mockery or disgust.
Huh.
He must have shuffled too much, because Tony's eyes fluttered opened. The man looked around, as if forgetting where he was, but he straightened upon seeing Peter awake.
"Hey, Pete. How... how are you feeling?" The genius looked more awkward than he'd ever seen him.
"Fine. I think my nose is healed up already."
"Good, that's. That's good." He sighed. "But I was more talking about, you know... emotions?"
That made him smile. "Come on, Tony, you know how bad you are at those."
"Gee, thanks for the glowing review."
The noise woke up Bucky, who had a very similar reaction to Tony. "Kid! Are you?---"
"I'm fine, Bucky, thanks," Peter interrupted, really not wanting the man to go on a guilt spiel.
"Right, uh. Alright."
Silence fell over the room again. Tony ended up breaking the illusion of peace.
"Peter, you know we're gonna have to talk about what happened."
Right. Yeah, fuck all that warmth and kindness, these were the Avengers. They had more important things to do than deal with some stupid teenager's emotions. They were gonna kick him out and then he'd really have nobody, and then he---
"---Pete? You back with us?" He hadn't noticed the tears that had welled up in his eyes, and quickly blinked them away.
"Yeah, I'm just... I'm really sorry, Tony. I get it if you want me gone. I know I've caused enough trouble, I promise I won't be mad."
The man looked bewildered. "Kid, why the fuck wouldn't I want you?"
Well, now Peter was confused, too. "Because I'm weak. Because the Avengers need Spider-man, not some pathetic teenager. You deserve so much better than me, Tony, I---"
"I'm gonna stop you right there, Pete. The Avengers want you here because we care about you, okay?" Peter nodded reluctantly at the man's prompting. "Great. And you think these guys care if you have some issues? They've dealt with my bullshit for years, I think they can handle it." Tony leaned over his bed and put a hand over his. "We want you, kid, no matter what. There's no stupid-ass conditions to our care for you because you're, well--- you're you, for fuck's sake!"
He couldn't help, then, the sobs that made their way out of his lungs. Tears flowed freely down his red face and he took deep, gasped breaths.
"You were never supposed to find out. I thought you'd all think I was a freak, and then... then this Mirror guy comes along and he says he's gonna tell you all anyways and that you'll get rid of me and I just--- I'm really fucking scared, Tony." His voice cracked in more than one place, and he was definitely rambling, but he managed to force out a half-coherent sentence in the end.
"I know, kid, I know. But we're gonna help you through it, 'kay? We're gonna do better, Peter, I promise you."
Bucky was giving him a look, and he noticed that the usually-stoic man had tears in his eyes, too. "I'm sorry if we made you feel like you couldn't come to us and I... I'm sorry for not noticing anything was wrong sooner."
He was out of his depth here. Two people he looked to as father figures, claiming that his issues were actually their fault? It was really weird, but he couldn't help the little flicker of warmth that returned and began to grow once more.
"We love ya, Pete."
Over the next few weeks, his teammates --- his family --- did everything in their power to make Peter feel welcome. It sort of achieved the opposite on the bad days, but he appreciated the effort either way.
Bruce let him tinker in his personal lab. He'd never tell Tony, but it was so much cooler than his. They rambled about how evil radiation was, and the man seemed genuinely shocked at Peter's appreciation of his work as Bruce Banner rather than Hulk.
Natasha stopped going easy on him during sparring practice. It seemed like a small change, but he felt like he was finally being taken seriously as a teammate, by the Black Widow, of all people. She gave him advice and compliments and friendly insults and it was all so surreal.
Steve stress-cooked his favourite foods, and even gifted Peter a mini-fridge for his room purely so that he could give him more leftovers. He also (begrudgingly) showed him his ultra-secret sketchbook, which he had started doodling in shortly after waking up from the ice to feel a bit more at home.
Clint told him stories about his kids, and his dog Lucky, who he had apparently found while trying to get rid of some guys called the Tracksuit Mafia, all while trying to teach him archery. He knew how secretive the man was about his family, and was shocked at how much he trusted him.
Thor had missed the entire situation, but brought his brother to the tower, who offered to make Mirror 'know nothing but suffering'. Loki was actually a pretty cool guy when an evil sceptre wasn't influencing his mind, and Thor made sure to assure Peter that he was worthy of both his power and his place among the Avengers.
Bucky and him started having regular rooftop meetings, especially on designated Bad Days, where they would talk about completely random topics (like how pigeons were secretly government spies), to help clear Peter's mind. Sam would often join in, because he was much better at the comfort side of things, and because he always brought absolutely amazing snacks.
Tony made him a variety of helpful little gadgets in place of heart-to-hearts. Neither of them were very good at talking things through, not yet at least, and Peter was fine with that. So far, he had been given extra-strong ear defenders and sunglasses to block out light and sound. His room had also been given adjustable lights and soundproofing to help with his sensory overloads.
Peter knew it would take ages to ever reach a point where he could say he was okay, and he had no idea when that would be or if it would even happen in the first place.
But he could say that he was getting there, with the help of his family, and that was more than enough for him.