Chapter Text
Part Five
There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you paid for
Tuesday, October 31, 2023
In the weeks following the final battle with Beck, Peter found himself the happiest he had ever been since returning from the dead. In the first week, Mr. Stark had insisted he stayed at the Tower, stating that it was just to ensure that Peter was completely fine. Despite his many assurances to the man that his healing abilities had fixed everything within hours of the injuries happening, Mr. Stark didn’t believe him and was slow to believe even Dr. Cho’s report that Peter was physically fine. It wasn’t until May and Pepper pointed out that Peter needed to live his life that he was allowed to leave the Tower and return to the apartment he shared with May and Happy.
Unlike before where the apartment didn’t feel like home and more like a cheap knockoff of his and May’s apartment from before the Blip, it suddenly became much more homey. Peter started leaving sweatshirts everywhere, much to Happy’s displeasure, and his bedroom became the cluttered catastrophe it normally was, with textbooks, homework assignments, various Spider-Man tech, and clothes everywhere. May started taking less shifts at work, giving her the ability to have dinner each night with Peter and Happy. It turned out that Happy was a fantastic cook, something that Peter had never noticed since coming back. With his home-cooked meals and his stories from his job as Mr. Stark’s head of security, Peter found himself more connected to the man now more than ever.
That feeling of being more connected applied to the Starks as well. Each morning, Mr. Stark made a point to send a text to Peter, simply checking in and asking what plans he had that day. Sometimes, while at school, Peter would feel his phone vibrate and he would pull it out, discovering that Morgan had stolen her dad’s phone to send pictures of herself. It was clear that a five-year-old was taking them as they featured close shots of her various parts of her face. Hiding a chuckle, Peter would send pictures back, pictures just as terrible as the ones she would send him. They would continue to do so until either Mr. Stark would get control over his phone again or until a teacher caught Peter, earning him a detention. Still, it was worth it, especially when MJ would join him in the detention, continuing her sophomore year pastime of drawing people in crisis.
And, as the weeks eventually turned into over a month since Beck’s passing and the weather began turning, becoming colder and colder with each passing day, Peter found himself looking forward to each weekend trip up to the lake house, looking forward to spending time with Morgan, Pepper, and Mr. Stark. And he found himself letting go of the things he had missed in the past five years, instead looking forward to the time he did actually have with his family. And that was why he found himself bounding up the steps of the lake house, excited to fulfill Mr. Stark’s request of taking Morgan trick-or-treating that night.
“I’m here!” he called out when he let himself into the house, using the house key his mentor had given him just a few days after the incident with Beck. Almost immediately, he heard running footsteps coming from upstairs, becoming louder when its owner started to stomp down the stairs.
“Petey!” Morgan shouted, jumping the last two steps in her haste to get to Peter. “You’re here! You’re here!” She continued her running sprint, ramming her little body into Peter’s, wrapping her little arms around his legs.
He didn’t even stumble when she did so, bending down to give her a hug, letting the little girl give him a proper hug. “Hey, Mo! You ready for trick-and-treating?”
“Mhm!” she hummed in response. “Look at my costume!” She pulled out of their hug, giving a whirl to allow a proper showing of the light blue dress she was wearing. “I’m going as Elsa!”
Peter nodded, remembering the character as one from Frozen, a Disney movie he had watched with Ned and MJ a few years previously. He had also watched the sequel with Morgan the last time he was up at the lake house, a movie that had come out during the Blip, thus something he had missed out on. Morgan had been blown away by the idea of him never even hearing that the movie existed, insisting that they had to watch what she called her favorite movie. That title wasn’t much praise from her, considering that every Disney movie ever made was her favorite. Still, Peter didn’t say anything, only agreeing to watch it with her. To his surprise, he found himself liking the movie and the songs that came with it.
“Wow, Morgan!” he complimented, pulling himself out his thoughts just in time to comment on her Halloween costume. “You look great!”
She smiled widely, her happiness evident in her expression. Then, her face fell as she seemingly noticed something. “Where’s your costume, Petey?”
He shook his head while answering her question. “I don’t have one. I’m too old for Halloween now.”
The little girl appeared to be dumbfounded by that sentence, her eyes going wide in shock. “But you can never be too old for Halloween. I’m going to go find you a costume!” She turned away and he called after her, trying to tell her that it was fine.
“Mo, really, I don’t need a costume!” But she bounded away from him, running up the steps while yelling for her mom, informing Pepper of Peter’s dilemma of not having a costume. Upon realizing that there was nothing he could do to stop the girl’s insistence that he needed a Halloween costume, Peter sighed, shaking his head in exasperation of Morgan’s stubbornness. He heard a small chuckle from behind him and he turned around, not even remotely worried about the unknown voice as his spidey-sense hadn’t gone off to warn him of the person behind him.
Peter found Mr. Stark standing in the hallway behind him, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He had a smile on his face, a red cape tied around him, and a tall, black top hat upon his head. “She got you, too, huh?” Peter asked, commenting on his mentor’s outfit choice.
The man nodded, pushing away from the wall and moving closer to Peter. “Unfortunately so, kid. I tried to convince her that I should just go as Iron Man, but she said that wouldn’t do, seeing as I am Iron Man.” Peter blinked at his word choice, instantly reminded of the last time he had heard those words said, remembering a battle ending with Mr. Stark collapsing, his arc reactor going out, leading to a hospital visit in Wakanda, with Peter certain that his mentor had just died in front of him. Mr. Stark winced, seeming to pick up on his own triggering words. “Sorry, kid, wrong choice of words.”
Peter shook his head, shaking himself out of the thoughts of what happened two months ago, instead focusing on the here and now. It was something he had been trying to get better with, letting go of the past and its traumatic memories, focusing instead on the present and the future. “It’s fine.” Then, remembering what Mr. Stark had been saying, he asked, “Do you think she’ll let me go as Spider-Man?”
Mr. Stark considered the question for a moment or two before answering. “It’s worth a shot. She’s never seen the suit and she’s always wanting to see your abilities.”
Peter snorted, remembering Morgan’s fascination with what he could and couldn’t do. Her questions and insistence on seeing him in action reminded him of how Ned was the day after discovering that he was Spider-Man, asking him questions upon questions. Whereas Ned’s questions had bothered him to no end, answering Morgan’s questions and seeing her awe about his abilities was something he enjoyed.
“On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t,” Peter said. “My identity would be revealed within seconds if I went out with her. She’ll be telling everyone about who’s really behind the mask.”
Mr. Stark laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too certain of that. Bribe her with juice pops and she’ll keep anything a secret.”
“Will do, Mr. Stark. I’ll get her hopped up on juice pops and Halloween candy before returning to Queens, leaving you with a hyper five-year-old.”
“Exac--wait,” Mr. Stark cut himself off before he could get too far into his sentence, narrowing his eyes at Peter, seemingly realizing what Peter just detailed out. “No, no, that’s not happening. You know what, maybe you shouldn’t be responsible for walking her around, not if you’re planning that.”
Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on, Mr. Stark. Isn’t this what older brothers do? Take their little sisters out on Halloween night, helping them sneak candy past their parents, making them hyper?”
Mr. Stark blinked, no doubt picking up on Peter’s use of the word “brother.” It was what Mr. Stark had called him back in Wakanda when Peter had first met Morgan, but hadn’t ever used it since. Peter himself hadn’t used the term. Using it at that moment felt right, just like it had felt right for him to agree to taking Morgan out trick-or-treating.
“Yeah, kid,” his mentor said softly. “It is what brothers are supposed to do, so I guess I can’t really complain, can I?”
Peter shook his head. “Nope,” he said, popping the p. He then walked past Mr. Stark, heading for the kitchen. “What do you have planned for Halloween dinner?”
Mr. Stark followed him in, pulling out a container from the fridge. “It’s Taco Tuesday here in the Stark household tonight. Pep already cooked the meat, like the am--”
“Amazing woman she is,” Peter finished. Mr. Stark’s head shot up, a small frown of frustration on his face. “Come on, Mr. Stark. You always say that so I happen to have that sentence memorized by now. Besides, it’s not too difficult to fill in the blanks. Everyone knows that Pepper Stark is amazing, so shouldn’t you say--her husband--the same?”
Mr. Stark shook his head, deciding to let that train of thought go as he prepared dinner. Peter helped him by pulling out the toppings from the fridge, noticing that someone--most likely Pepper--had already sliced the lettuce and tomatoes, leaving his task to be simpler than Mr. Stark’s task of reheating the meat.
“So, where’s May and Happy?” Mr. Stark asked.
“Back in Queens,” Peter answered, taking the lids off of the tomato and lettuce containers. “They decided to have a Halloween date night and go see the new scary movie that came out tonight.”
“Happy agreed to go watch a horror movie?” Mr. Stark asked, sounding shocked by that sudden turn of events.
“Yeah, I was surprised, too. I tried to get him to watch one with me last week and he bolted from the room as soon as I put the DVD in.”
“Ok, I’m going to not comment on the fact that you still use DVDs and--”
“You kinda just did by saying that you aren’t going to do so,” Peter pointed out, turning to look at his mentor. Mr. Stark stuck his tongue out in response to Peter, causing Peter to scoff. “Yeah, real mature, Mr. Stark, real mature.”
Mr. Stark only shook his head. “Anyways, back to what I was saying before I was rudely interrupted”--he gave Peter a look that seemingly was supposed to make him feel guilty, but Peter only looked at his mentor innocently, causing the man to huff in response and look back away from him--“if they’re staying home, how did you get here?”
Peter grinned widely, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a card from it. “You’re looking at a fully licensed driver now, Mr. Stark,” he said triumphantly, holding out his driver’s license with a flourish.
“No,” Mr. Stark said, looking away from the pan of meat he was heating up, moving closer to get a better look at what was in Peter’s hand. He took it, inspecting it closely, almost as if he was trying to figure out if it was real or not. “No. Who in their right mind would give Peter Parker a driver’s license?”
“Ouch, I’m hurt,” Peter said, miming his hurt by placing a hand over his heart. He snatched the license back from his mentor, putting it away in his wallet, which he stuffed back in his pocket. “Truly, really. I don’t think I can ever heal from your lack of belief in my driving abilities. I mean, seriously, what would ever give you the impression that I’m a bad driver?”
“Hmm, let me think, kid.” Mr. Stark placed a finger on his chin, pretending to think. “How about the fact that you crashed that kid’s car on Homecoming night?”
“That’s not allowed to count,” Peter said. “That happened in 2016, seven years ago.”
“That’s if you consider the Blip. For you, how many months ago was it?”
Peter looked away, doing the math quickly in his head. “It still doesn’t count, as it--”
“Pete, if you give me any answer below twenty-four months, it counts.”
Peter huffed, turning away to grab the tortilla shells from the bread box. “Fine, okay, you got me. But that’s just one time and that’s before the many, many driving lessons Happy gave me this past month. So your point of me being a bad driver is null and void.”
“Alright, fine, but I’m still not stepping in another car with you in the driver’s seat, not after what happened last time.”
Peter laughed while taking out some of the shells and wrapping them in aluminum foil. Remembering the one--and only--driving lesson Mr. Stark had given him, he couldn’t blame the man for not wanting to do so again. “Fair enough, Mr. Stark, fair enough.”
They continued talking about everything and nothing for the next few minutes while the shells heated up in the oven and Mr. Stark finished reheating the taco meat. Their conversation lasted them through setting up the taco buffet, only finishing when Pepper and Morgan came downstairs, the latter of whom wanted to hurry through dinner, wanting to go trick-or-treating as soon as possible. When Peter told her about Mr. Stark’s idea of him going as Spider-Man, Morgan had been all for it. Still, Peter expressed the need for her to not tell anyone that Peter Parker was actually Spider-Man and, just like his mentor had said, he bribed her with all the juice pops she could ever possibly want to keep it a secret. Morgan considered his bribe for a second or two, looking exactly like her mother while doing so, before agreeing. After that, Peter started eating, doing so almost as fast as Morgan was.
“Come on, kid,” Mr. Stark said when Peter was done eating. His mentor stood up, gesturing for him to follow him. “I want to show you something.” Curious, Peter followed him outside to the shed that Peter remembered housed Mr. Stark’s lab. He felt excitement fill inside of him only to quickly abate when he remembered what he had discovered in it the first--and last--time he had walked into the shed. He had found out that his mentor was planning on taking something that he had designed himself, repurposing it, and selling it without Peter’s permission.
His excitement and curiosity all but flew away, replaced by the new feeling of apprehension when Mr. Stark headed to the drawer marked Current Projects. That was where Mr. Stark’s idea for Peter’s webs had resided within. Was his mentor actually planning on telling him about it after all? Or was he grabbing a different project, still planning on keeping the new web idea a secret from Peter?
Oblivious to the emotions and thoughts running rampant through Peter, Mr. Stark opened up the drawer, taking out a very familiar notebook, one that Peter had scrawled notes upon notes in it, back when he was a sophomore, barely a year into being Spider-Man and still new to the whole idea of Mr. Stark--the Tony Stark--being his mentor. It was a time where being a hero was all he wanted from life, throwing away any ideas of going to college, instead enraptured with the idea of Spider-Man consuming every bit of his life. Now, after experiencing the truth of the job, after dying on Titan, after watching Mr. Stark almost die, after the illusions that Beck had planted in his head with his drones and a hallucinogen, that desire had somewhat depleted, yet it was still there, still apparent in the daily patrols he partook in every day after school. It was another difference between his life before and after the Blip, the nostalgic feeling inside of him a stark contrast to the excitement he had felt when he looked at the notebook sitting inside his nightstand right before leaving for school in 2018, right before attending a field trip to MoMA that had ended with him swinging away from the bus, ended with him going to space and dying.
“Kid?” a voice asked. Peter blinked, drawing himself out of his memories, and he looked up to see Mr. Stark looking at him in concern. “You good?”
Peter nodded a little, trying to give his mentor a smile to ease his worry. Judging by the man’s expression, it didn’t work, leading to him having to speak. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…it brings back memories, y’know?”
And it did. It brought back memories of sitting in class, trying to discreetly make his webs without anyone noticing. It brought back memories of pouring over the formula, amending it time and time again, trying to perfect it. And, when Mr. Stark had offered him an actual Stark Internship, the notebook had become a foundation of what they would work on, its pages containing any ideas Peter would think up in school, jotting them quickly into the notebook, eager for the afternoon lab sessions they would have where they would make his notes a reality. And it brought back memories of a very different boy and of a very different mentor, during a time where aliens weren’t a thing to be worried about, during a time where Peter’s nightmares consisted mostly of the Homecoming Incident, not memories of a ruined planet and Peter dying, not memories of a battle with Mr. Stark collapsing, his arc reactor fading out, not visions of what Beck’s hallucinogen had planted in his head, not memories of what the symbiote had made him do.
“That it does, kid,” Mr. Stark agreed, his voice again rescuing Peter out from his sea of memories. His tone seemed to be bittersweet, simultaneously sounding sad and hopeful. He closed the drawer and placed the notebook on the table, flipping through the pages filled with both chemistry notes and various web formulas. “When you were gone, May gave this to me. She talked about wanting to do something to remember you by, to do something for the world to know who you were and what you meant to us. I found myself wanting to do the same listening to her speak and I looked through all of your old notebooks, trying to figure out how to repurpose your webs. And, one day, it just hit me.” His flipping of the pages ended, his finger tapping the written note on the last page, the note that had led to Peter spiraling, thinking that his mentor was, in fact, planning on taking his work and passing it off as his own.
Now, though, listening to the grief in his mentor’s voice, hearing his words about wanting to remember Peter after his passing, he realized that his thoughts weren’t true and nor would they ever be true. They had been encouraged by the seeds Beck had sown, planted by a man who thrived upon manipulation and lies. Mr. Stark wasn’t planning on passing the project off as his own. No, he was wanting to make the project to give Peter the credit Mr. Stark had felt that he deserved. And Peter felt guilty for ever thinking badly of his mentor, for believing yet another one of Beck’s lies.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” he said softly, letting his sincerity be heard in his voice. His mentor’s head shot up from the notebook and latched onto Peter’s face, his confusion evident by his furrowed brows. “I-I was snooping around when I was here back in September. I might have found the notebook and saw how you were planning on using them in the medical field.” Peter paused, knowing in hindsight that his next words were undoubtedly false. “I-I thought that you were planning on not giving me any credit and that you were going to sell it to other people.”
Mr. Stark’s face fell and he looked down at the journal on the table in front of him. “Oh, kid,” he said softly, his voice breaking as if it hurt him that Peter had thought that at one point in time. “Why did you think that?”
Peter shrugged, picking up a stray pencil from one of the tables. He started to fidget with it, not looking his mentor in the eye. “Beck mentioned that you might do that.” With the mention of the man that had almost destroyed their relationship, Mr. Stark’s face fell even further if that was possible. “When I saw what you wrote in my old notebook, it just seemed to prove everything that he had told me. I didn’t even think that it might be something else, which is why I never said anything about it to you. I’m sor--”
“Kid, please don’t apologize,” his mentor interrupted. “Seriously, Pete. You are not allowed to apologize from here on out.” Peter huffed a bit in amusement. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. This project is something that I should have talked about to you from the very start, immediately when you came back from the dead. So, I’m so--”
“If I’m not allowed to say sorry then neither are you, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, this time being the one to interrupt. “Like you said after I woke up from the fight with Beck, Beck’s the one to blame for all this. If it weren’t for him and his words, I would have never thought badly about the project sitting here.” Peter let Mr. Stark think about his words for a few seconds, waiting as the silence between them stretched. Then, he asked, “So, what else were you thinking about with the webs? I love the idea about them being used in the medical sense, but…”
He continued talking, his questions prompting Mr. Stark to answer back. The man pulled up a folder on FRIDAY’s archives labeled “Webacy,” a name combining two words--“web” and “legacy”--and a name that Peter instantly fell in love with. Thirty minutes later, Pepper found them both engrossed in the project, talking back and forth about the various uses the webs posed and the potential it had. With a smile on her face, she interrupted them, reminding Peter about taking Morgan out trick-or-treating.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Pepper!” Peter exclaimed, grabbing his spidey suit from where it sat in the corner of the lab. “I almost forgot!” He donned the suit, then, hand-in-hand with Morgan, he and the little girl went around the neighborhood, collecting candy from the very small number of neighbors around Mr. Stark. And, as he walked with the girl, listening to her shout ecstatically to her friends about Spider-Man, hearing the other kids’ shouts of awe, letting their parents take pictures of him with their kids, he couldn’t help but feel happy, to feel hopeful for the future.
Because he truly was. He truly was looking forward to the time he would spend with Mr. Stark, working on Webacy. And he was looking forward to being a part of the life of the girl beside him, being the brother that he wanted to be, rather than the one Mr. Stark had expectations of.
Because he was done with living in the past, done with reminiscing on the time before the Blip. What was important was being here, making new memories and pushing away the time he had missed. Because what he missed wasn’t important, not when he had the chance to make his own memories, with May and Happy in their apartment, with Mr. Stark, Pepper, and Morgan in their family.
He was a part of two families, two families that had mourned him when he had died and were beyond happy to see him resurrected. And it wouldn’t do to distance himself from them like he had done previously. No, it really wouldn’t, he realized, holding the hand of Morgan Stark, taking her out on Halloween night, being the big brother that she had grown up hearing about.
And, like he had known back in the med bay, being held by both of his families, he knew that nothing could ever go wrong, not when he had them close by.
No, everything was--and would be--absolutely perfect.
Part Five
There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you paid for
End
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The Ballad of Mona Lisa
owl_lover013
End