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Chapter Text

Sighing, he looked at his bedside table clock, seeing it read only Five-Thirty in the afternoon. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Peter checked to see if Aunt May was home. When the cost was clear, he shut the door behind him, stripped out of his clothes, and threw on his Spider-Man suit.

Opening the window, Peter climbed out of the small apartment bedroom, leaving the glass cracked slightly. Jumping off the small lift, he shot off his webs, swinging from one building to another.

Peter loved to do this. Feel the air rushing against his suit, hearing the busy chat of the passerbyers on the street below him. All of his trouble seemed to drift away.

Landing on top of a roof, he plopped himself down on the ledge, looking down at the ground below him. Sure, he was a little iffy about heights, but nothing could beat this view. Sooner or later, the sun went down passed the horizon, the cold night air replacing the hot musty air before it. Once the sun was down completely, darkness took over the sky, a few stars dotted the sky. Smiling under his mask, he looked up, holding onto the ledge with both hands. It was peaceful, just the way he liked it. That is, until his 'Spidey Senses' acted up.

"Oh Spidey!!" an all too familiar voice hollered making Peter groan loudly. "Oh, do that again, makes me all tingly inside." the owner of the voice smiled, sitting down next to Parker.

"What do you want, Deadpool?" Peter basically sneered, not in the mood for Deadpool's bullshit.

"Wow, who pissed in your Fruit-loops?" he asked, taken aback. "Any who," the masked Mercenary started talking again before the younger could get a word out of his mouth, "What brings you to this side of the roof?"

Spider-Man rolled his eyes, forgetting that the Merc couldn't see him, he let out an audible sigh, "Are you seriously going to keep asking that every time you see me on a roof?"

Wade pretended to think, placing his pointer finger on his chin. After a couple of seconds his shook his head, "Nah fam."

An awkward silence engulfed the two, which was surprising to say at the least, seeing Wade never shut up.

"So I was thinkin--" Wade started but was cut off as Peter stood up,

"Sorry, Wade, duty calls." Spidey interrupted, jumping off the roof and swinging from web to web, building to building.

---

After finally shaking off Wade, he reentered his bedroom, taking off his Spider-Man mask and suit. Stretching he plopped himself on his bed, grinning at how comfortable the mattress was. He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knows Aunt May is shaken him awake with a strong arm.

"Peter! Oh, good, you're awake." May smiled, letting the young boy sit up before speaking once more, "You have a visitor down in the living room."

With a big yawn, Peter rubbed his eyes, "Who?" he questioned tiredly.

"Tony Stark."

Chapter Text

“Tony Stark.”

---

With now wide eyes, Peter looked up to his Aunt May, confusion clear on his face. “What the hell?”

“Language, Peter.” May scolded, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Sorry, Aunt May, but I don’t think I heard you correctly. Did you say, Tony Stark? As in THE Tony Stark?” Peter asked, a glint of hopefullness in his eyes. May’s smile only got bigger and nodded a simple ‘yes’.

“Be down soon. Mr. Stark is a busy man. I wouldn’t keep him waiting.” And with that, she closed the young man’s door and walked back down stairs.

Automatically sprinting off his bed and into the bathroom, he turned on the sink’s faucet. Grabbing his toothbrush he brushed his teeth sloppily before combing his hair so it didn’t look too astray.

Rushing back into the actual bedroom, he ripped off his shirt and placed on his chest binder. Looking down at his binded chest, he let out a sigh.

‘Only a couple of more hundred dollars.’ he thought, thinking back to the jar filled with extra dollars and pennies for a chest reduction surgery.

“Peter!” May yelled back up, grabbing the boys attention.

“Coming!” he shouted back once more, throwing on a graphic t-shirt over the white bandage. Staying in his pajama pants, he basically ran down the stairs, nearly tripping on the last one as he entered the living room.

There he was, Tony Stark in his living room eating a scone and chatting it up with Aunt May. ‘Oh my god’ Peter thought, trying to contain his excitement.

“H-Hi, Mr. Stark.” Peter stuttered, his slightly wincing as his voice cracked an octave higher. Smiling, Tony looked up from the conversation, turning to the young Parker.
“Hello, Peter. Nice to finally meet you in person.” Stark smiled, placing the rest of his uneaten scone on the napkin (that May laid out) in front of him.

Glancing between the two people on the couch, Peter nervously asked, “What brings you down to my humble abode.

“Ah, yes!” Stark said suddenly remembering what he came down here for, “I wanted to talk to you about something… important.” he said, raising a hidden eyebrow at the word important.

Confused for a moment, Peter knitted his eyebrows together, not sure what he meant by that. But then he realized, “Oh!” he spoke a little to loud, making May jump in the slightest. “Um, Aunt May, could I speak with Mr. Stark.. In private?”

Nodding her head with two raised eyebrows, May stood up and left the living room without a word. Motioning for the older man to follow, which he did, they both walked towards his room.

Walking in, Tony locked the door behind him. But Peter knew very well that Aunt May barging in was the least of their problems. Sitting down on the bed, Peter looked up at the billionair before him.

“So, Spidey,” Stark said with amusement, putting emphases on the word ‘Spidey’. “With you in your god awful suit, I wanted to propose an offer.”

“W-What? I don’t know what you’re.. You’re talking about.” Peter stuttered once more, still dazed by the fact that Tony Stark was in his bedroom.

“Oh, don’t act coy, Pete.” Tony laughed, walking around the small, blue painted room. “You know what I’m talking about,” he smiled, turning around to face the brown haired boy. “So, Spider-Boy, I wanted to propose an offer.”

“I-It’s Spider-Man.” Parker pointed out, looking down at the ground.

“Right,” Tony sighed, before looking at some pictures that were hung loosely on the walls, “So, Spider-Boy, how would you like to come live with Avengers and I?”

“Wh.. what?” Peter asked in shock, eye almost bulgging out of his sockets. “Live with.. Really?!”
“Yup.” Tony replied, popping the ‘p’.

“But, why?” Peter suddenly questioned.

“What do you mean?”

“Why me? There is a bunch of others out there that are a lot cooler than someone like.. Well.. me.” he explained, motioning with his hands as he explained.

“Why you?” Tony repeated slowly, knitting his eyebrows together. Walking over and sitting down at the edge of Parker’s bed, he began to laugh slightly. This time, confusioin was written all over Spidey’s face as he tilted his head to the left slightly. “Do you really want to know why?” he questioned, his face turning from amusement to seriousness in a matter of a couple seconds.

Nodding his head slowly, Peter replied with a whisper of a ‘yes’.

“Well, to start off, you have potential, kid. I mean it too. Sure, you’re young, and your suit needs a huge upgrade-- and you’re fighting skills, don’t even get me started--”

“Okay, I get the point.” Peter huffed, crossing his arms over his chest like a three year old not getting his way.

Sighing, Tony started talking once more, “But despite those small things, you remind me of someone I used to know. The attitude to prove it, too.”

Looking up to the older man, Peter squinted his eyes slightly, trying to understand what he meant by that. But before he could get any deeper in thought, Stark sighed once more and began talking in a more brighter, upbeat tone of voice.

“So, what do you say, kid?”

Chapter Text

-----

“So, what do you say, kid?”

-----

“I-- I mean, I have to talk to Aunt May and everything.. I can’t just.. Just leave her!” Peter mumbled, getting up from his place on the bed and walking towards the middle of the small bedroom, pacing around from one side to the other.

“Kid, slow down, you’re making me dizzy.” Stark grumbled, placing his head in his hand, closing his eye for a minute or two.

“S-Sorry..” Peter apologized. He tried to keep his voice calm, but there was so many things going through his head, it was hard to focus on one thought. ‘What if he said no?’ ‘Even worse.. What if he said yes?’.

“I can talk to your incredibly hot aunt for you, but I need you to decide for yourself, not just on Aunt May’s decision, alright?” Tony said in a soft voice, worrying about the young spider.

“Alright.” Peter nodded, shaking his head, “I’ll be up for it-- I’ll move in with you guys.” he confirmed, a proud look on his face.

“Good, I’ll go talk to your aunt.” Mr. Stark smiled, unlocking the door and walking out of it, leaving Peter petrifyed in his spot.

“Oh my god.” Peter mumbled. “What have I gotten myself into?”

-----

Not even ten minutes later, Mr. Stark left his apartment, going to prepare Peter’s room. Aunt May, of course, agreed that the young man could stay with the billionair, as long as he kept up his grades and continued to make friends.

Stark agreed, saying he wouldn’t accept nothing else. While Peter was packing, he heard the door to his bedroom open, revealing Aunt May. “Hey, Aunt May.” Peter smiled, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What’s wrong, Peter?” she questioned, sensing how tense he was right away.

“Nothing,” he lied, not even able to convince himself, let alone May.

“Don’t you lie to me, young man.” May said in a playful, yet scolding, tone. Walking over and sitting down on the bed his nearly empty bags were on.

“It’s just..” the boy sighed, throwing a random pair of pants on the bed before walking over towards Aunt May, sitting down besides her. “What if I screw everything up?”

“How so?” she wondered.

“What if they don’t like my.. ‘Situation’?” Peter blushed, pointing down to his chest and then to his ‘down stairs’.

May laughed, earning a shocked look from Parker. “Oh, I’m not laughing at you, I’m just laughing that the fact that you would think such a thing.” she smiled, wrapping her left arm around her Peter, pulling him in to her side. “It’s the twenty-first centuary, Pete. They’ll probably be more than accepting. Besides, if they have a problem with who you are, they can come and talk to me about it.” she stated in a cold voice towards the end.

Spider-Man, both inwardly and outerly, shuddered at the thought. Aunt May /can/ be scary when she wants to be.

“Now, let me help you pack,” she smiled, standing up once more and walking over towards the brown dresser drawers.

-----

Once Aunt May packed Peter’s clothes, she left the room, letting the young boy handle the rest. Bending down and pulling out a small black bag from under the bed, he unzipped it, and walked to the bathroom.

Turning on the light, he walked over under the sink, pulling out a worn out purple bag. Once untying that, he pulled out his Packer, placing it in the new black bag, only finding the bag to be a couple inches wider.

Humming to himself, he then went over towards the medicine cabinet, pulling out his Testosterone, placing it carefully in the black bag as well.. Mumbling incoherently, he zipped the bag back up, and threw it into his backpack. Walking over towards his desk, where his clothes for the trip to Stark Tower was laid out, he grabbed them and rushed back into the bathroom, locking the door as he turned on the shower water.

After scrubbing himself for a good ten minutes, the young boy decided to jump out of the shower, and dry off. Picking up the clothes that were now situated on the sink counter, he dressed himself quickly, not knowing the exact time he would be leaving.

Slipping on his underwear, he pulled them up to say the rested on his hips. Grabbing the Packer, (that he had to take back out of the bag because he realized that he didn’t have an extra), he positioned the realistic looking penis in the pants, making sure it didn’t look like he had a boner the entire day. ‘Never again’ he thought to himself as a shudder when down his spine.

Huffing, he slipped on a pair of jeans, before he struggled with his binder. While his body was still damp, the chest reducting binder caused friction against his body and the clothing, making him huff and puff as he pulled it down over his ‘area’.

Once that was down, he through on a very loose graphic-t that read;

“Obey Gravity
It’s The Law.”

Laughing at the shirt he picked out, he blowdried his hair breifly, leaving the rest to air dry, before turning the bathroom light off and strolled back into his ‘quarters’. Finishing up the things left to do, (all including to double check everything, pack his laptop and charger). Noticing that there was only a little bit of T left, he made a mental note to ask Aunt May to get it refilled, seeing that he was still unfunfortable getting it himself.

“Peter! Mr. Stark is here!” May shouted from the downstairs, making the poor boy jump from the sudden loud noise.

“C-Coming!” he replied, grabbing his one duffel bag and backpack as he ran down the stairs, fixing his shoe halfway so it didn’t come off making him trip.

“Oh, Peter, there you are.” the older woman smiled, her eyes brimmed with tears as she realized that her nephew was moving out for good.

“Aunt May.. don’t cry..” Peter sniffed, hating to see his only family member was being torn apart.

“I’m not! I’m just.. Going to miss you.” She smiled with a slight roll of the eyes. Dropping his bags softly, he took a few steps towards her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Smiling, she hugged back before letting go.

“Peter, be careful.” She whispered, holding onto his shoulders.

Nodding, Peter picked up his bags and turned towards Mr. Stark who was leaning on the doorframe watching the scene go down. For a moment, Peter could have sworn he saw remorse flash across his eyes. But as quick as it was there, it was gone.

“Come on, Peter.” Stark said with a gruff voice, pushing off the frame and walking towards the limo outside, which grabbed attention of some people.

“Oh, Peter!” Aunt May shouted as he walked out the door,

“Hmm?” he turned around to see her hide a smile.

“Your red shirt is hanging out of your backpack.” she smiled, nodding her head towards the red and blue fabric.

Eyes widening, he quickly shoved the inconvient red shirt back in the bag, praying that Aunt May didn’t know it was his suit. “Th-Thanks, Aunt May.” Her smile growing wider, as she watched her only nephew walk out the door.

While his old life was being left behind, his new one was only beginning.

Chapter Text

-----

“Why is everyone staring?” Tony asked, completely oblivious to why basically herds of people were gathering around the black limousine.

“It is a limo, Mr. Stark. Things like these grab peoples attention, especially when it happens to be in our neighborhood.” Peter basically whispered, pulling his hoodie, that he decided to put on last moment, over his head to where nobody would recognize him.

“Damn, sass much?” Tony remarked, getting in the back of the limo, leaving the door open for the young boy. Pulling the door closed behind him, he sat down in front of Mr. Stark.

“S-Sorry, sir.”

Rolling his eyes, Stark looked the boy up and down, before beginning to talk. “So, Peter, I did a background check,”

Those seven words made Peter froze, eyes widening behind his hood. Trying to keep his voice steady, he carefully chose his words, “Y-Yeah?”

“I’m so sorry about your sister.” Stark spoke with a soften glance.

Getting ready for the expecting punch, he suddenly tilted his head to the side, “Huh?”

“Your sister, I’m sorry that you had lost her at such a young age.” Tony repeated as it clicked for Peter.

Mr. Stark was talking about Peter before he changed. He thought he had a sister instead. He didn’t know about his ‘issue’. A breath of relief washed over his face before looking down at his lap, deciding to play this out instead of telling him like planned before.

“Oh, uh, yeah, she, um.. Died, when I was seven.” he replied with fake tears glistening in his eyes. ‘Damn, I should be an actor.. Maybe I could even play in a Spider-Man movie!’

Iron Man nodded his head, taking in the news before Peter spoke up once more in confusion, “Wait-- why did you do a background check on me?”

“Oh!” Tony jumped in sudden remembrance, “It’s basic logic to do so before you move in with someone, you know?”

Peter just shook his head, “Sorry, I d-don’t really know..” he trailed off.

“Ah, that’s right, you’ve lived with your aunt all your life, since your parents..” Tony trailed off as well, feeling the all familiar grief rush over him.

“Y-Yeah..” he whispered back, choking on a cry. But he needed to be strong, for himself, and for him not to make a fool out of himself.

“Anyway,” Tony cleared his throat while looking out the window, “We’re here.” he said with the best smile he could muster up.

Nodding his head quickly, he grabbed his backpack and duffel bag, pulling it along as he followed Tony. A wave of excitement washed over himself as he entered the elevator that lead up to the Avengers.

“Just a heads up, I think all the Avengers are here, Nat, Bruce, Clint-- but I don’t know about Thor.” Tony talked, nodding his head at the soft sound of AC/DC playing as the elevator music.

Pursing his lips together, Parker silently nodded. The once excitement that entered his body must have been forgotten at the lobby because it was no more with him. All the bad possibilities rushed across his mind; ‘What if they don’t except him?’ ‘What if they don’t like him because he’s trans?’ ‘What will they say when they finally get to see who’s under the mask?’ ‘What if--’

“Kid? You alright? You look like you’re gonna have a panic attack?” Tony’s voice was laced with concern as he looked down to his left.

Blinking, Peter looked back up to his right, giving a small smile as he took down his hood, “Y-Yeah, sorry, Mr. Stark… just.. Nervous.” he answered, dancing around the question.

Raising an eyebrow, Tony looked unconvienced, but he let it slide as the lift’s doors opened, revealing a hallway. “Alright, come on.” he murmured, as he turned to the right and walked off. Peter scrambled to get out of the lift in time before the closed on him, but he managed, some how, and followed his new roommate. Rommate? Flat mate? Whatever you would call him. Nearly tripping, Peter turned the corner where Stark had, and followed him into a living room type of place.

The white carpets covered the area, a round table in the middle of the room, a TV in front of it on the wall, and a couch behind the table. Clearing his throat, Stark grabbed the attention of the Avengers, causing all their heads to turn towards the billionair. Suddenly, Parker found himself selfconcious, worried about their opinion’s of him.

“Everybody, meet Peter Parker, also known as Spider-Man.” Tony smiled, which earned a few chuckles from a certain red head,

“Sorry,” she apologized, “It’s just that I thought you would be less.. Scrawny.”

And then Peter started to pale. ‘Dammit!’ he thought, ‘I knew this would happen, I should’ve declined Mr. Stark’s offer’ he scolded himself.

“Oh, Natasha, cut him some slack. I was same way before turning into ‘Captain America’.” a blond headed man sighed. Eyes widening, Peter realized it was Captain America. THE Captain America.

‘Holy Shit!’ he nearly said aloud, holding back a feminine fangirl-ish squeak.

“Hey, Peter, my name’s Steve Rogers, you would know me best as Captain America.” Rogers said, walking up to the brown haired boy and held his head out to him.

“H-Hi, Mr. Rogers,” Peter said in a starstruck voice, looking up to the man as he shook his hand.

“Please, call me Steve.” he chuckled before letting go.

“Su-sure, Mr. Ro-- Steve.” he corrected himself, earning a laugh from the couch.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna go all fanboy on ‘ol Cap over there.” Hawkeye asked, looking over the back of the couch.

Eyes widen once more, as Bruce Banner walked into the room, earning a small ‘eap!’ from the teenage boy. Tony laughed loudly as Steve had an amused look placed upon his face.

Walking over, Bruce stook out his hand following Steve’s suit, “Hi, I’m Bruce, also known as--”

“One of the most amazing scientist known to human race? I’ve read almost all of your works, and I found them very interesting, ecspecially the one about--”

“Woah, hold up a second, you can.. Understand, them?” Bruce asked bewildered, eyebrows knitting together as he tilted his head slightly to the left.

“Y-yes, sir.” Peter mumbled, taking back his hand and shifting uncomfortable,

“Oh, God, not another science geek.” Clint groaned, throwing his head backwards.

Natasha had a hint of a smile on her face as she watched the whole scene go down.

Oh, this is going to be a looong day.

Chapter Text

-----

Natasha had a hint of a smile on her face as she watched the whole scene go down.
Oh, this is going to be a looong day.

-----

"Follow me, kid. I'll show you to your room." Stark smiled, placing his sunglasses in his suit pocket. Nodding his head, Peter followed Mr. Stark out of the room before he made a bigger fool out of himself.

As he exited the room, he could hear soft laughter from the living area. His cheeks tinting red from embarrassment, he bit the inside of his cheek. "Now that," Tony chuckled, "Is how you make an entrance."

Groaning, Peter looked down at the floor as he walked, almost running into IronMan once more as he came to a stop. "Here's your room, Spidey." he spoke in an amused voice.

"Th.. Thank you, sir." Parker thanked him before stepping into his bedroom. "Holy..." he muttered to himself at the gigantic room.

"You like it?" Tony questioned while leaning against the bedroom frame.

"Like it?" Peter repeated spinning around with wide eyes, "I love it! It's amazing! Thank you, Mr. Stark." Peter smiled brightly with a laugh.

Tony rolled his eyes, "One; I'm glad you do. Steve helped me decorate since I have no idea what you would like. We basically guessed here and there. Apparently though, I was right. Two; don't call me 'Mr. Stark'. It's Tony. 'Mr. Stark' makes me feel old."

Nodding his head, Peter apologized. "Sorry, sir."

"And don't call me 'sir'!" he shouted back as he walked down the hallway.

Chuckling to himself, Peter closed the door and sat his backpack on the bed along with his duffel.

Using his Spidey Senses to make sure nobody was around, he pulled his black bag out of the backpack and walked over to the bedroom's bathroom. "Holy shit.." Peter whispered to himself as he looked around the bathroom. "This bathroom is as big as my old bedroom." he muttered. Biting the inside of his cheek, he opened the doors below the sink and placed his bag in there. Making sure it was out of site and secure, he closed it back and walked back towards his bags.

Unpacking his clothes, he placed his shirts in one drawer, pants in the next. Underwear followed next in a separate drawer. After dealing with his small amount of clothes, he walked back towards his bag and pulled out a few posters and small pictures in frames. Hanging around the random posters of science-y things, (like Aunt May would call it), he sat on his bed with a heave.

Warn out, he double checked his duffel bag to see what was left. His breath caught in his throat though as he picked up a page of a newspaper. Tears welled in his eyes at the writing.

/////

"PEDESTRIAN KILLED BY BURGLAR"

/////

Underneath the headline was smaller text.

/////

"Pedestrian Ben Parker was shot and killed when Burglar, unknown, broke into their house. Pedestrian, Ben Parker, called out the robber but was, unfortunately, shot in the heart by said robber. (flip to page 3 for more info)"

/////

A stray tear rolled down Peter's face as he sniffed. Clutching the cut out clipping to his chest, and raised his knees to his chest. Placing his chin on his knees, he silently cried for a good ten minutes.

"Mr. Parker, sir. Mr. Stark has ordered to tell me that dinner will be in five minutes." a voice spoke from out of nowhere. Jumping nearly a half a foot, he shot his head up and looked around the room. When he found no one there, he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Mr. Parker, your heart rate is sky rocketing. Shall I call in Mr. Stark?" the same voice questioned.

"Who's there?" Peter's voice cracked an octave higher.

"My apologize, sir." the voice spoke, "My name is J.A.R.V.I.S, Mr. Parker. I am--"

"Mr. Stark's AI." Peter finished with a breath of relief. "Sorry, you just scared me." he laughed as he stood up. Walking over towards his new white desk, kindly gave by Mr. Stark, he opened a random drawer on the bottom and carefully placed in the newspaper clipping.

"When was dinner again?" Peter questioned, not quite remembering because of his fright.

"Five minutes, sir. Now, four." he corrected.

"Please, J.A.R.V.I.S, call me Peter." he smiled to the voice.

"Sorry, Mr. Peter." the voice replied.

Peter rolled his eyes before going to the bathroom. Turning on the water, he cupped his hands and filled them up before splashing his face.

Turning off the running water, he looked up and saw his red cheeked face. His eyes looked a little swollen.

Turning on the water once more, he splashed his face and dried it on a random hand towel. Now looking much more presentable, he turned the lights off once more and walked towards the living area once more.

Barely remembering the way, he stumbled into the room. "Star wars is better than Star Trek." Clint argued with a unfamiliar man.

"Hell no, Star Trek is better." the man argued back.

"No-- Peter!" Clint nearly shouted, "Help a man out. Which is better, Star Wars of Star Trek?" Barton questioned Peter.

"U-uh.. They're both e-equally good. But I prefer Star Wars mysel--"

"HAH!" Clint laughed, "Told you so, asshole!"

"Shut up.." the man grumbled back, disappointment written all over his face."

"Peter, this is Sam. Sam this is Peter." Bruce spoke from out of no where, making Peter jump nearly ten feet out of his own skin. "Sorry, Peter." Bruce apologized.

"Which one are you?"

"Sp-Spider-Man, sir." Peter stuttered.

"Sir?" Sam repeated, "Oh, I like him all ready."

Clint laughed at the boys embarrassed face. "Loosen up, kid. No need to be all up tight like 'ol Cap over here."

Steve glared at Peter with a disapproving face.

"Better watch it, Katniss, don't wanna get on Cap's bad side." Tony talked, appearing out of no where.

'Do these people just apparate or something?' Peter thought to himself.

"What's for dinner?" a new voice questioned, much feminine. Turning around, Peter faced himself to see a woman with brownish red hair.

"Mexican." Natasha hollered back from the couch. 'When did she get there?'

"Oh, Wanda, meet Peter. Peter, Wanda." Steve smiled, nodding over towards the shy teenage boy.

"H-Hi." Peter stuttered, once more, with a nervous smile.

"Hello, Peter." she smiled before walking off to go find 'Vision'. Who ever he was.

"Well," Tony smacked Peter's back with a smile. "Welcome to the family, kid."

Chapter Text

"Well," Tony smacked Peter's back with a smile. "Welcome to the family, kid."

-----

"So, dinner." Clint coughed, his stomach growling loudly. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Control that stomach of yours, Clint."

"Well you try shooting arrows constantly during training all morning without breakfast -- or lunch!" he argued back, eyes squinted.

"Oh, shut up, Katniss." Tony grumbled, plopping on the couch. "Should be here in a about fifteen."

Nodding, Bruce sat on one of the chairs circling the table and telly. Cap was already sitting on one end of the sofa. A few minutes passed, Peter swaying from the heel of his foot to the ball, his hands in his hoodie pocket. "Oh, for God's sake." Tony grumbled, turning and looking over the back of the white leather couch. "Get over here and stop being so... awkward."

Jumping slightly, Peter rushed over towards the Avengers, nearly tripping on the fluffy rug. Clint rolled his eyes, Sam holding in a laugh, as the Spider-Boy landed 'ever so gracefully' on to his hands and knees.

Wanda was the first one to step up, walking over quickly to the small hero, bending down with a concern look. "Are you okay, hun?" she questioned, eyebrows raised as they knitted together.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Peter nodded his head and started to stand up. Pulling the hoodie part back down, (it fell over his face during mid fall), his cheeks burning a soft scarlet. "Y-Yeah.." he muttered, his voice breaking an octave higher.

Hearing this, Parker saw Bruce squint a tad, head turning slightly at the sound. Gulping, he wiped his hands on the back of his jeans. Gods, he just embarrassed himself in front of The Avengers -- THE Avengers!

Chewing on the inside of his lip, Wanda lead him over to her spot on the furniture, letting him take the spot and claiming the one next to him.

"Don't worry," Wanda whispered to him, her lips in a small smile. "On my first day here, I banged my head right up against a pole. To this day I think it left a mark.."

For the first time in a while, he smiled. A true smile. Natasha took note of this, observing from afar. Her hand rested under her chin, watching Peter's every movement. "Jesus, Nat, scare the child why don't you." Sam muttered under his breath; earning a swift punch to his face. "Dammit.." he hissed while rubbing his nose.

A few minutes passed, the only sound echoing in the room was the clock hands, signalling more time has went by. Tony broke the awkward silence, thankfully. With a big sigh, he took a quick look at his watch. "Food should be here, right... about.."

A knock sounded from the door, Tony's famous smirk growing even wider. Clint just groaned as Steve looked amused. Grabbing the food, only after paying, he walked into the kitchen -- everyone following suit. Sitting down, Steve took a place besides Tony, who took a seat besides Sam. Next, Wanda took a seat besides Natasha, Natasha taking a seat besides Clint. Bruce sat at one end of the table while there was only one empty spot on the other end.

Bruce glanced up at the chair in front of him. "That's Thor's chair, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you sat in it for today. We can get you a chair for tomorrow." the scientist reassured.

Nodding his head slightly, Peter trudged over towards the end chair, scooting it out and sitting down in the thing. To his right was Wanda, and to his left was Captain America.

Passing out the meals, Tony opened his, digging in. The rest of the team followed suit. Then, Tony spoke up with food in his mouth; "Oh, and Peter. I didn't really want to get you, so I got their special. Hope you don't mind."

"Tony, don't talk with food in your mouth." Rogers scolded with his fork.

"Tony, don't talk with food in your mouth." Stark repeated in a higher falsetto, with, yep, you guessed, food still in his mouth.

Peter cracked a smile at this. Maybe he wasn't breaking their usual order after all. "So, Peter. How's school?" Bruce questioned, trying his best to make small talk, unlike the rest of the surrounding people -- they would rather just observe. The young, fragile boy almost dropped his fork onto the plate.

"Oh, uh," Peter stuttered before clearing his throat nervously. "It's going good..sir."

Tony face palmed, mumbling something about 'Here we are with the formal thing again..'

Bruce eyed the boy suspiciously before smiling in a small manner, "Please, just call me Bruce. No need to get formal or anything."

Nodding his head, Peter spoke back, "Alright Mr. Bann-- Bruce.." he stuttered once again. Face flashing with embarrassment for the umpteenth time, he decided to shut his trap and stuff his face with his chimichanga. Wanda chuckled softly as Sam broke out in a grin.

"Now," Natasha talked, swallowing a bit of her rice before Steve decided to fuss at her. "Tell us the truth, Peter. Why are you on edge?"

Eye widening slightly, Peter nearly choked on his food. 'Have they found out?' 'What gave it away?' 'Are they going to kick me out?' 'Will I have t--'

"Are you having a panic attack? I think he's having a panic attack -- Bruce, he's having a panic attack!" Steve's eyes widened, looking between the startled young boy and the scientist.

"You're the one who's having a panic attack." Clint nearly laughed, though it wasn't the best time to laugh.

"Ma-May I be excused?" Peter asked in a shaky, hushed voice. The table then went silent, Steve nodding his head slightly. With that, Peter took a deep breath, stood up, and walked to his room, wrapping his big hoodie around himself, trying his best to hide his wrapped chest.

Once reaching his room, he closed and locked the door. Leaning up against the door, he took a breath, closed his eyes, and counted to ten, just like Aunt May had told him to do.

Breathing now back to normal, he pushed himself off the door and walked towards his bathroom. Turning on the light, he closed the door behind him and stepped in front of the big mirror.

Turning to the side, he looked at his slight bump, frowning. Turning to the other side, he expected it to be totally different, but to his misfortune, it was just like the same on the first side. Frowning even deeper, he then face the mirror, and tugged at the hoodie. Looking down, he nearly whined aloud. Getting frustrated, he stripped of the red thing, throwing it on the bathroom counter near the sink.

Pursing his lips, he stared at his bandaged wrap reflection, mentally, and physically, cursing when he saw the whole on the side of the binder getting bigger and bigger. The once pinky-finger sized dot was now about the side of three fingers. Lifting up his arm, he saw that his skin was getting a bit irritated from all the rubbing.

Sighing, he hissed when he touched the wound. Rolling his eyes, he slid off the binder, placing it on top of the mess of clothes. Taking a wet wash rag from wherever it came from, he dampened it and placed it on the red area. Couple seconds pass and he removes the rag. Lifting his arm up once more, he notices the redness went down slightly.

Eyeing the clock on the wall, he realized it was too early to turn in for the night, plus, he has to go help around town tonight. This made him even more irratated. First, he's almost out of T, which barely works in the first place, it wears off so fast due to getting bit. Now, his binder is basically a heap of worn out shit.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he threw on the binder and sweatshirt, exiting the bathroom and walking over towards his bed. Pulling out a book, he began to read.

It couldn't have been five minutes later before a knocking erupted from outside his door.

"Peter, could I come in?"

Chapter Text

"Peter, could I come in?"

Slamming the random book shut, he looked down at his chest and pulled at his shirt. 'Is this how a normal shirt folds? Or is this because of the milk bags?' he questioned to himself. Pulling once more for good measure, he placed his book on the bedside table and nodded his head. Soon realized that the voice couldn't see him, he cleared his throat loudly and answered with a simple 'Yeah, sure.'

Milliseconds later, the door opened to reveal a mess of auburn hair. Peter chewed the inside of his cheek when he saw who it was. 

"Hey, Peter." Natasha smiled softly. Closing the door gently behind her, she made her way over towards the still slightly red faced boy.

"H-Hey, Mrs R--"

"Stop right there." Nat interrupted with a hand in front of her. Peter stopped mid-sentence. It would be a great lie to say that he wasn't intimidated by The Avengers. "You don't have to go all formal, like we've said before. Call me Natasha -- or Nat for shorter." she smiled slightly, her soft green eyes shimmering softly in amusement. 

Parker gulped. He nodded his head before bringing his knees up to his chest; trying his best to hide the soft lumps in his hoodie. "Sorry, Nat.." he whispered out an apology. Natasha shook her head.

"It's fine. But that's not what I came here to talk about. Peter, why were you so overwhelmed back at the table?" 

Once more, the new housemate gulped. However, this time, it felt like his breath caught in his throat half way through it all. "O-Oh, I was just.." he trailed off trying to find an excuse, but, unfortunately, came up empty handed.

"Was trying to hide the fact that you're transgender?" Natasha offered in a hush voice as she raised a poised eyebrow.

"Ye -- " Peter stopped wide eyed. If it wasn't clear the first time, he definitely felt his stomach drop to his knees. Tears began to prickle in the back of his eyes. The walls were closing in on him -- not physically, but that's what it seemed like at the time for the young boy. "Ho -- How... Wha... N --"

"Woah there, Pete." Natasha said with slightly wide eyes. "Calm down, Pete -- Pete!" Natasha said louder, snapping Peter out of his self destructive thoughts. "Calm down," she frowned slightly. The green eyed assassin placed two sturdy hands onto his shaking shoulder. 

"P--Please don't tell any--anyone! I'll do whatever you w-want!" he begged, tears streaming down his face. That's when Parker felt it. Two strong arms hugging his body tightly in an overprotective way. 

"Peter, please. Listen to me. I'm trying to get it through to you that I'm not going to tell anyone." Nat said softly, her red hair to the opposite side of where Peter was pulled into. Soon, the young boy relaxed into the hug, hugging back just as tight.

"But... why?" he whispered out the question like it was suppose to be frowned upon. Peter heard, and felt, The Avenger sigh. Pulling away, she looked the boy in his eyes; her green eyes reflecting off of his ones of hazel.

"A normal -- scratch that, decent, person would never tell someone something without the original person's consent. So don't you ever think that I would tell someone something without your permission to do so. The only exception, however, is if you are, or going to, hurt yourself." she smiled softly. 

Peter sniffled, wiping his eyes with the end of his hoodie. Going back over to his original sitting position, he fiddled with a stray string off of the red hoodie. "What gave it away?" he asked, clearing his throat afterwords. Slowly looking up to the auburn haired assassin, he found herself shaking her head with a smile.

"You don't think I'm that dumb, do you?" she chuckled softly. Parker's eyes widened tenfold. 

"N-Never!" he replied, his voice coming out a bit louder than attended to. This only made Nat laugh harder. "Why are you laughing at me?" the small boy asked softly, his face becoming a flaming scarlet.

Romanoff shook her head again, letting out a few more small laughs. "It's just your such an easy target, kid." she smiled before blinking a couple of times, then looking over at Peter. "But it's not what you did wrong, it's what I simply observed. Believe me, it took me a while to figure it out. The way you slouch over is a strong hint. Or the way that you pull at your shirt covering your chest area when you think no one is looking. Maybe it's the -- "

"Okay, I get it. I'm not good at hiding things." he huffed, pouting the slightest. The Widow rolled her eyes and nudged the kid. 

"Hun, I'm a high level trained assassin, I pick up things most people don't usual get." she smiled with pursed lips.

Spider-Man nodded, knowing that she was right. "Yeah.." he sighed. 

"But," she spoke up once more, "I got to ask.. Are you binding safely? No ace bandages or tape?" Peter shook his head, admiring her concern tone of voice. 

"No ma'm -- Nat." he corrected himself. "I've been using a binder for a while now, since I came out."

Natasha eyes widened to where it was noticeable now. "The same one?" she questioned in near shock.

Peter only nodded shyly, not saying an audible answer. "And it's stayed intact?" she questioned once more, which he nodded once more -- a complete lie. The highly intelligent woman noticed this too. "How many uses do you think you have in it?"

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he shrugged slightly, wincing at the rubbing fabric. "Peter.." Natasha warned. Then, she stand up and headed towards the bathroom. "Bathroom. Now." she order. Obeying what The Avenger asked of him, he followed her into the bathroom and watched as she closed the door. 

"Now," she began, walking over towards the glass mirror. Pulling it open, it revealed a first aid kit. "You may not like this, and it may make you feel uncomfortable, but I need you to do it anyways. I need you to take off your hoodie and binder. I can tell that there is an infection of some sort because of that torn up binder."

The nervous boy felt like he was going to faint. "Peter, please. I'm trying to help you here. If it makes you any better, I'm not going to judge or laugh at you. You will always be a male, or whatever the Hell you want to identify as, in my eyes." she smiled warmly at the boy. Exhaling very audibility, he slowly took of the red cloth, gritting his teeth as the fabric of the binder moved on his skin as he moved.

Natasha looked to the floor as Peter then turned slightly to take off the death contraption. The dirty, raged, worn out, chest reducing fabric fell to the floor with a soft 'thud'. "Y-You can look up n-now." Peter stuttered once more. Maybe stuttering should have been his superpower. Or, maybe, disappointment. He seemed very good at the two. 

  Looking up, Natasha took note of the red chafing makers under his breasts, on his sides, and under his armpits. "Jesus, Pete.." she whispered under her breath. "All right," she said a bit louder, "Hop up on the counter." 

Doing so, the male only winced slightly. He then looked over at Romanoff, watching her as she unzipped the red first aid bag, digging around for something unknown. With a small 'Aha!' from the auburn female, she pulled some sort of ointment. Setting down next to the boy, she walked over towards the hand towels, grabbed one, and dampened it via sink water. Ringing most of it out, she then instructed Parker to lift his arms so she could get better access. Obliging, Peter closed his eyes tightly as Natasha gently pressed the wet rags over the marks.

"I'm sorry, hun.." she smiled sympathetically at the hurt boy. A single man tear slipped down his face. He chewed the inside of his cheek to stop from groaning in pain outerly. Quickly grabbing a different towel, Nat dried the 'wounds' througholy. Then taking the oitment, she rubbed it over the big spots, wrapping them in bandages. "I advise you to not where your binder for a couple of days." she intructed once more.

"But -- "

"No ands, ifs, or buts about it." she said sternly. "You can always where your hoodie, seeing it being cool the past week, and inside the tower." Helping the young hero off the counter, she helped him maneuver his hoodie over himself once more. Putting away the things, she walked back over towards the actual bedroom. Noticing the time, it war around 9 at night. For Peter, it was a bit early to go to bed, but with all the new things happening to him lately, he could sure use the goodnight's rest. 

"My, look at the time." Natasha yawned herself, stretching slightly. Parker nodded, following suit with the yawn. 

"I'm going to hit the hay.." he motioned towards the bed. Romanoff got the hit and walked towards the door. Once getting situated, the female opened the door and turned off the light to the bedroom. "Goodnight, Nat.. and thank you.." he smiled, snuggling up in the bed. 

Natasha only returned the smile, her usual emotionless face now turned into one of love and care. "You're welcome, Peter." With that, she stepped out of the bedroom and shut the door gently. Before walking down towards the living area where the rest of The Avengers were, she turned and looked back at the door. Speaking in a soft whisper, she smiled. 

"Спокойной ночи, мой паучок"

Chapter Text

Natasha only returned the smile, her usual emotionless face now turned into one of love and care. "You're welcome, Peter." With that, she stepped out of the bedroom and shut the door gently. Before walking down towards the living area where the rest of The Avengers were, she turned and looked back at the door. Speaking in a soft whisper, she smiled.

"Спокойной ночи, мой паучок."

-----

"Morning, Peter." Steve greeted as the young Spider walked into the kitchen. Rogers was seated at the kitchen table. A bowl of cereal was on the place mat in front of him. 

"Hey," Peter greeted back warmly. Walking over to the fruit bowl, he grabbed an apple and sat down in the seat he was sitting in last night; Thor's chair. Speaking of Thor, Peter has yet to meet him. 

"So what are you up to today?" Steve asked before taking in a bite of the sugary breakfast.

Quickly swallowing the bite of apple he had in his mouth, Peter simply shrugged, "Nothing much. I needed to talk to Aunt May about something, but other than that, I don't really have anything in mind, why?"

Hiding his smile, Steve took in another bite of his cereal, mentally recalling the memories of last night. 

---

"Oh shit, Nat's smiling." Tony said in complete horror, the drink in his hands almost falling to the floor.

"Ha, ha, very funny." the auburn haired assassin spoke in monotone. Rolling her eyes, she walked over to Stark's mini bar and poured herself a small glass of red wine; one of her favourites. 

"Awe, come on Nat, Tony's only playing around." Sam chuckled.

"That's the thing," Stark looked over towards Sam, eyes wide and eyebrows knitted, "I'm not. Think about it, when is the last time that you have ever seen Natasha smile, hmm?"

Clint tilted his head to the side slightly as he tried to think. "When she's around kids, but that's mostly it.."

"Would you two idiots shut up? Can't I smile for once without being bombarded by idiotic questions and comment?" Natasha argued, taking a sip from her glass.

"Okay, now I know for a fact that something is up." Tony pointed out, leaning back into his chair. "Spill."

Sighing, the assassin rolled her eyes and sat down on the white couch. Crossing one leg over the other she sipped on the red wine. "How is this any of your business, again?"

Sam, apparently took interest into the conversation, for he leaned off his chair the slightest, listening the best he could. "Because, if I can remember correctly, 'secrets aren't good in a group. It can tear people down. Believe me, I know. I've seen too many people get teared apart because of it'." how Sam remember exactly what Natasha said a while back, could even confused Sherlock Holmes himself.

Once again, Natasha rolled her eyes, licking bottom of her lip before speaking. "It's not in my place to say anything, but for my sake, I will say something to get Tony off my ass." 

The billionaire scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting slightly.

"I was just talking to Peter, I got him to calm down completely and everything. We, I guess you can say, have a bond."

"Oh, God!" Sam nearly shrieked. Steve jumped slightly because of the loud noise. "Don't tell me you like Peter? That's pedophile material, Nat. He's, like, fifteen!" 

"Not like that, you asshole."

Sam went silent, before his mouth went into an 'o' shape. Bruce rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Anyways, what do you mean, 'a bond'?" Tony asked giving the female a sideways glance while taking a swig of his whiskey.

"Like I said, Stark. I can't say. But I will say that I would like like to take Peter out shopping. As you can tell, he doesn't have that much clothing and with the school year starting up once more, he will need more clothes." Natasha pointed out. The Avengers nodded, she did have a point.

"But why you? Why can't I take him or something?" Tony questioned once more, earning a groan from nearly everyone in the room. All except Wanda, of course.

"Because, Tony," Clint spoke up from his spot, "You'd push the kid into the store, give him some cash, and wait outside in your limo. You have no idea how to care for yourself, let alone another human being."

Natasha raised her eyebrows, tilting her head in agreement. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

"Clint does have a point.." the team muttered under their breaths. Groaning, Stark slammed his glass down on the table.

"I can take care of myself!" he argued, standing up to only fall. The team busted out in laughter at the man's drunken haze. Lifting his head up with a grunt, he looked down at his shoes to find them tied together and knotted. Eyes squinting, he looked up at the team. 

"Which one of you assholes did this?" he 'hissed'. Which, in reality, came out a drunken slur. It wouldn't be a surprise if Tony had liver damage by now because of how much he drinks.

Steve glared at the grounded male for such language, but decided to push past it seeing that drunk Tony was the funniest Tony.

Finally, his eyes landed on Wanda who had a mischievous smirk on her lips. Looking down to her hands, Stark saw a glowing red radiating off of them. "What did I ever do to you?" Tony whispered in a 'hurt' manner. Taking off his shoes, he stood up with them in his hand and stomped off to his bedroom, the slamming of his door rattling the frame and echoing into the living area.

-----

"Oh, hey, Peter." Wanda spoke walking into the kitchen with her usual smile on her face. "Hey, Steve." 

"Hey, Wanda," the two males smiled back in unison. Now finishing his cereal, Cap stood up and walked off towards the sink, washing it quickly and saying his farewells before walking off to somewhere else.

"How are you this morning?" the redhead asked, looking over her shoulders from where she stood in front of the cabinets, deciding what she wanted for breakfast today.

"I'm good, you?" Parker questioned back, enjoying the small talk.

Skimming her eyes over the storage once more, she smiled triumphantly and pulled out some kind of protein bar. "Fantastic." she answered with a big smile once more. Leaning up against the marble counter, she opened the small bar and began to nibble away. Now finishing his apple, Peter walked over towards the trash can and threw the inedible part away. Getting ready to turn and walk away, Wanda stopped him. "Oh, Peter." she remembered. 

Turning around, Peter raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"I forgot to tell you that Natasha wanted to talk to you later today. Something about going somewhere."

Nodding his head, he thanked her with a thin lipped smile and left the room. Off to find Nat.

Chapter Text

"I forgot to tell you that Natasha wanted to talk to you later today. Something about going somewhere." Nodding his head, he thanked her with a thin lipped smile and left the room. Off to find Nat.

Wondering down the halls, Peter finally landed in front of Natasha's door. Knocking exactly three times, Peter waited for a reply. "Come in, Peter!" the young boy heard a faint voice reply from the other side of the wooden entry. Opening the door careful, acting like it would break if he was to harsh with it, Parker stepped inside and cracked the door behind him.

"You said you wanted to see me?" he asked, his hands in the back of his jean pockets. Today, like any other day, he was sporting his usual baggy graphic t (and a loose sports bra, following the strict orders from Nat to not wear his binder), blue jeans (that didn't hug his hips), and his warn out tennis shoes.

"Oh, yeah," Nat smiled softly. Getting up from her desk chair, she stretched. Looking over at the boy, she continued talking. "I wanted to take you shopping, seeing that I noticed that you needed a few things -- clothing and other things." 

Peter gulped, almost forgetting about the assassin knowing his 'little' secret. From the way Romanoff was looking at the young teenager, she knew that Peter was slightly worried. "Peter," she said with a reassuring smile. "You know that I won't tell anyone. I promised you that, and I don't back out of my promises. Ask Clint." Parker didn't even need to ask the male, he knew, from the way Natasha presented herself, would never tell. But still, a lot of people were the same way. "So, you ready to go?" 

Nodding his head, Peter gave out his best grin -- somewhat excited for his shopping trip with Nat. The once smile turned into a frown, realizing something quite important. "I, uh, don't have that much money, so it might be short lived.." he said quite shyly.

Shaking her head, Natasha chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry about it." she reassured once more. Reaching into the back pocket of her pants, she pulled out a black card. Holding it between her fingers, she smiled evilly. "That's why we have this."

Peter's eyes widened. "Is that.. Is that Tony's card?" the assassin only shrugged, her grin getting somewhat bigger. 

"What happens between the two of us, stays between the two of us, right?"

This time, the younger Spider only laughed, nodding his head. "Right."

"Atta boy" Nat grinned happily. Picking up her cellphone, the two then turned and walked out of the female's room, out of The Avenger's Tower, and straight into one of Tony's many cars. Stepping into the passengers seat, Peter fastened his seat belt, Natasha doing the same but from the driver's side. Putting the respective keys in the ignition, the assassin started the car, the car's engine roaring to life.

Pulling out of the long drive way, Natasha turned onto the main road. Rolling down the convertible top -- Nat would only take a car with one of them -- Peter smiled happily as his hair flapped through the wind. With one hand on the steering wheel, the older female Avenger reached forwards and turned on the radio. The sounds of music lyric blasted through the speakers.

"I have no tolerance for nonsense, get away from me."

Peter's eyes widened slightly, a grin plastered on his face. "You like this song?" Natasha asked, looking away from the road to glance at the boy before looking back. Peter only nodded his head, humming along with the lyrics. Natasha grinned as well. "So do I," and with that, she turned up the volume ten folds.

"Surrounded by my soldiers, and they be locked and loaded,"

The lyrics continued until it got to the chorus. By then, neither Natasha or Peter could hold back from singing.

"I'm a little dysfunctional, don't you know? If you push me it might be bad." Peter started to sing loudly over the music, which impressed Nat. Smiling and nodding her head to the beat, she joined in and sang the next line with the younger boy. 

"Get a little emotional, don't you know? You could fool around and make me mad," they sung in unison as they stopped near a red light. The person in the car beside of them gave them a sideways glance, but in the end didn't say anything.

Sharing a glance, both Avenger's laughed loudly, tears forming in their eyes. Pulling into the mall center, Natasha turned down the radio, shaking her head as the song came to an end. Peter quickly wiped the tears in his eyes -- all from laughing to much. Once they parked in a close by parking spot, the two got out of the car, locking it behind them. "That was fun," Peter commented. "I didn't know you had this side to you. Mr Stark always made you out to be some kind of emotionless war hero." 

"He did?" Romanoff raised an eyebrow, giving a side glance to the young hero. Eyes going wide, Peter tried to correct himself. 

"I-I didn't mean to offend you or anyth--"

"Peter," Natasha smiled once more, an amused look placed on her face, the same one that she only showed to Peter and a select few. "You did nothing wrong, in fact, now I feel even better for stealing Tony's card. Let's buy anything that we want, won't be like he would run out of money."

Once again, Peter shook his head with a chuckle, his hands in the back of his pockets. Walking into the mall, Peter chewed the inside of his cheek.

"So," the female questioned, turning her head to look at Parker, "Where to first?"

Chapter Text

"So," the female questioned, turning her head to look at Parker, "Where to first?"

"Somewhere that's cheap?" Peter thought aloud to himself, a confused look upon his face. Once more, Natasha rolled her eyes. 

"We have Tony's credit card, Peter. Now, where do you want to go?" she asked again with a slight smile. Peter thought for a moment, his eyes scanning over the copious amounts of stores. Finally, his eyes landed on one that looked quite interesting. 

"How about Forever21?" he asked the assassin. Romanoff shrugged her shoulders.

"I've never been there, have you?"

Peter laughed and shook his head, "Not at all."

"Well, first time for everything." Natasha smiled down at him. With that, the two made their way to the cream coloured store. Up above the entrance, in big bold letters, the name of the store was printed out.

'F O R E V E R  2 1'

Walking in, Peter and Natasha were overwhelmed by the amount of people shopping inside. If you didn't know the date, you would think it was Black Friday -- which, Peter despised with a passion. Not even two feet inside, someone had greeted them.

"Hi, welcome to Forever 21!" the woman smiled widely, looking more like a forced grin. "My name is Amber. Is there anything that I could help you with?" Peter forced a smile and shared a quick glance with Natasha, who was doing the same thing. 

"Ugh, yes, could you point us to the men's section?" Romanoff asked politely. Nodding her head eagerly, 'Amber' pointed her finger behind her and towards the right. 

"Over there is the men's section, holding all kinds of clothes. If you're shopping for yourself," she turned her attention from Peter to Natasha, "The women's is opposite to that. Basically a mirror if you think about it!" she giggled in a high pitched manner. Parker raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. Nat thanked Amber quickly and the two basically sprinted off to the men's section.

"Oh," Peter managed out as he stared at all the floral pattern clothing.

"My God." the assassin finished for him, her eyes wide just like Peter's. The two turned their heads to look at each, observing their reactions. Then, in a split second, the two began to chuckle loudly, earning weird looks from some random passerby. 

Walking over, Peter sneered in disgust, poking a random floral coloured shirt. "Who wears this much floral?" he asked The Avenger. Shaking her head, Natasha was, for once, was at a loss for words.

"I have no idea.." she muttered under breath. "This shit looks like something that was rejected from some fashion show." Once more, Peter laughed loudly. "What? It's true!" the auburn haired female laughed with him. Shaking his head, Peter stuffed his hands into the back of his jean pockets. Begging to walk around, he did find some clothes that weren't floral. "How about you go try that on?" Natasha nodded her head towards a black long sleeve covered in different white doodles. Nodding his head, Parker took the cloth off the rack and made his way to the dressing room, which, conveniently, was just a couple of steps to the left.

Going into the men's side, Peter avoided looking at all the other people going in and out of stalls. Finding an empty one, Peter walked in and closed the door, making sure to lock it behind him. Peter was always afraid of going into the men's dressing room -- always afraid someone would call him out for not being 'a real boy' or walking in on him mid-dressing and finding out he has breasts.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Peter tried on the long sleeve shirt. It, in fact, did look good on him. It was baggy, but not an 'oh, it's too big' baggy. Taking his phone from his pocket, Peter took a quick picture of himself in the mirror. Placing it down on the small bench, he stripped of the shirt, careful of his 'wounds', and changed back into his original graphic t. Putting the shirt back on the hanger, Parker grabbed his phone (and the shirt) and made his way back to Natasha, who was sitting patiently on the bench outside the area. 

Smiling, Spider-Man walked up to the assassin and handed her the phone, the picture of him in it wide on the screen. Romanoff grinned. "It looks really good on you, Pete." she smiled. "Want to go look around, or go to a different store?"

"How about a different store?" he suggested, not really liking a lot of the options here. Nodding her head, Natasha took the hanger and the two walked up to the cashier. Paying for it, the two then left the store, careful to not run in to Amber again. Once out of the store, the two scanned the mall to see what other options they had.

'R U E 2 1'

Sharing a silent look, the two made their way inside. "Hi, welcome to Rue21, how can I help you?" an older woman, someone around their fifties, asked. 

"We're just look around, but thank you." Nat smiled at the older woman. Nodding her head, the unnamed woman walked off to greet the next guest. After walking around a minute or two, they decided on a bunch of different clothing. Paying quickly, the two left the store and wondered around aimlessly for a bit.

Sighing, Peter ran a hand through his hair. The two stopped in front of another store, one that looked to be pretty busy. Looking up, the sign in white cursive read;

'B E L K'

"How about we go in here, shop for a little, then we'll catch a bite to eat?" Natasha offered, seeing both of them were carrying bags of clothing from different stores in both arms. Nodding vigorously, Peter agreed and they stepped inside the store. Unlike all the other stores, no one was there to greet them when they entered -- which, both were thankful for. They had enough social interaction today as is.

Readjusting the bags on his arms, Peter led the way, like he did all the other times before, around the store, looking at anything and everything that seemed like something he would wear, or that he was interested in. 

Seeing the new school year was starting up, he was going to have to talk to Tony about that as well, he did need some good clothes. Now that he was thinking about it, maybe that's why Nat took him shopping and everything. Well, that and the fact that he was running on two pairs of jeans and a handful of different tshirts.

Aimlessly wondering around the store, the two Avengers found their way into the men's section. Going through different racks, Peter and Natasha had a decent amount of clothing arranging from button ups to sweaters to graphic ts. Smiling triumphantly, the two headed towards the changing rooms. Outside of them, however, was an woman around her mid forties. Seeing that she had a customer, she exited off the computer screen and walked around to where she was in front of the desk. "How many items?" she spoke in a monotone voice, as if she was bored. Ignoring the tone of voice, Peter spoke up and answered her.

"Ten," he said with a small smile. Nodding her head, she reached behind her desk and handed Peter a small white piece of plastic that had the number '10' written across it. Towards the top was a circular hole, so a person could place said plastic on the door handle. Handing over the bags towards Romanoff, Peter walked towards the men's changing room.

"Excuse me." the woman spoke in a shocked tone. 

"Yes?" Parker turned around with a confused face, not sure if she was talking to him or not.

"You can't go in there. It's says men's changing room, not girl's." she spoke from her spot, pointing up to the men's sign that was hanging above the young boy's head. Natasha raised an eyebrow at the old woman's bluntness. She was about to speak up when Peter interrupted her, trying not to start the fight that was threatening to break out.

"I know this is the men's changing room. I am only going into my respective gender's changing room." 

The woman sneered. "I said you can't go in there. That is for men only. You are not a man." 

"Hey, listen here." Natasha growled towards the woman. "You are going to let him go into the changing room -- the men's changing room, and he is going to try on the clothes. He is doing no harm by doing that."

Still, the old woman protested. "Listen here lady, I'm in charge of this station, and what happens back here is under my supervision -- meaning I'm the boss. If I say she can't go into the men's changing rooms, she can't go. She's a girl, not a boy." 

Peter's heart dropped. Those were the six exact words that ruined Peter's life. He thought that he had escaped that, by moving to a different school but he was wrong, for stupid Flash found out and won't drop it. He had gotten used to it though, learning to deal with the bullying and pain for years. But once he thought he had escaped it completely, reality comes crashing down on him. 

Hard.

Growling, Natasha forced herself to not throw a right hook. Instead, she grabbed the shopping bags (from previous stores) and ordered Peter to come on -- and to bring all the clothes. Throwing them onto the cash register, Natasha payed for the stuff (telling Peter that she would just take it back if it didn't fit) and then left the store with a giant shout of; "Fuck you!" 

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Peter held back the oncoming tears. Looking down at the side, Romanoff's heart broke at the sight of Parker being so disheveled. He was already going through enough dysphoria with not being able to wear a binder, but then this? There was going to be Hell to pay, that was for sure. 

Exiting the mall with pure anger written over her face, Natasha unlocked the car and carefully placed the bags of clothing into the car. Closing the trunk with a slam, Peter jumped slightly from the noise. Quickly apologizing, Natasha got into her side of the car and closed the door; Parker doing the same thing on the passenger side. Both of them buckled up. Pulling out of the driveway, Peter got lost in thought as Natasha continued to drive, her knuckles white from how tight she was gripping the steering wheel.

Unlike before, the music was turned down softly. Glancing over, Natasha bit her bottom lip. "I'm really sorry about what happened back there, you--"

"It's fine, Nat." Peter said swiftly. Though his voice was strong, he was falling apart inside.

"Do you want an ice cream?" Natasha then asked, remembering how they haven't ate anything for lunch yet. Spider-Man simply shook his head no. Understanding that Peter just wanted to be left alone, Natasha dropped the subject.

Pulling into the driveway of the Avenger's Tower, Natasha parked the car and popped the trunk. Both Avenger's got out of the car and split the amount of bags each person should carry. Closing the trunk, Peter and Natasha made there way back up to the main room. 

The elevator ride was pretty short, considering it was a little bit quicker than most. Once the doors opened, the two stepped out. In the common room sat Tony (which was rare), Clint, Steve, and Sam. The four were talking in laughs when the two walked out of said elevator. Turning around, Clint and Steve's face dropped when he saw the puffy eyed Peter and red faced Natasha.

"Oh, shit." Tony muttered under his breath. Unlike his usually sassy remarks, this one was of concern and worry. "What happened?"

Peter only shook his head. Blinking away some tears, he continued his way to his bedroom, the assassin following behind. Opening the door with one hand, Peter sighed and set down the dozen of bags near his desk; Natasha doing the same with her load. Taking his phone out of his pocket, Parker set it on his desk. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he stared at his hands that were folded up in his lap.

"Peter," Natasha started again, almost at a lost for words -- that's how angry and upset she was.

"Natasha, I told you it was fine." Parker spoke in a wavering voice. Getting the cue that the young boy wants to be alone, Nat said her farewells and closed the door. Sniffing, Peter slid off his old tennis shoes and lightly threw them to the side. Laying back on his bed, he picked up his pillow and hugged it over his chest. That, was when Peter Parker broke down.

All Natasha felt was anger and guilt. She could have stopped her from saying those things to Peter -- she didn't know how, but she could. Walking back to her room, Romanoff quickly changed into some more comfortable clothes -- sweatpants and a tank top -- and made her way to the gym. Entering, she found the room to be empty. 

Closing the door behind her, the assassin walked over towards the punching bag and let loose all her pent up anger. After what seemed like hours of punching, kicking, and shouting, Nat collapsed to the floor out of breath. Laying down on the cool mat, she looked up at the reflective ceiling. Her auburn hair was sprawled out around her, her chest was heaving up and down. 

Thoughts raced against her mind as she continued to stare at nothing and everything. But everything and nothing came crashing in on her. Sitting up, Natasha ran a hand through her hair. Standing back up, she went back into her fighting stance and continued punching, kicking, and shouting.

But at that moment, nothing would take away the sorrow she felt for Peter Parker.

Chapter Text

But at that moment, nothing would take away the sorrow she felt for Peter Parker.

Peter felt numb. He hasn't ate, showered, or barely even slept. He could feel that his depression was coming back up on him again, but he just didn't want to admit it. Swallowing, the young teenager winced as his throat was dry. Placing the pillow that was on his stomach to the side, the brown haired boy walked towards his bedroom desk. Upon the desk was some food and water. Peter told Wanda and Natasha to stop bringing in food and such, he knew he wasn't going to eat it, but still, they refused to and traded the food out for every meal of the day; breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight snack.

Going to the white desk, the young superhero picked up the glass of room temperature water and placed it to his lips. Taking a sip, Parker once against winced at the new, but familiar, substance sliding down his throat. Placing the glass back down on the desk, Peter stared at the food on the little tray the girl's provided. Though the food was still decently warm, the young teen couldn't bring himself up to eat any of it. It was like all of his appetite went away. 

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Peter made his way over towards the mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Looking at himself up and down, Peter frowned. Pulling the baggy shirt over his head, he tossed it on the floor. He was now standing in front of the mirror in with his red sports bra. Gently taking it off, he laid it on the floor next to his graphic t. Examining the bruises and wounds, Peter cringed. They were still really read -- and it looked like they weren't going away as fast as he thought it would. 

See, every since he got his new superpowers, he has began to heal twice as fast as the average person, as well as a lost of other things. But these wounds are being stubborn. They wouldn't go away.

Turning towards the side, Peter frowned and gently placed his hand on one of the wounds, instantly flinching away with a small hiss. Giving up, Peter walked back over to his drawers and pulled out his worn out, torn up grey binder. Placing it on, with a bit of struggle, Parker groaned out through gritted teeth as it wiped over the marks. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter walked over towards the desk and pulled the handle to one of the bottom drawers. Taking out the red and blue suit, Peter slipped it on, trying his best to ignore the nagging he was going to get later.

Pulling the mask onto his face, Spider-Man opened his bedroom window. Gulping, Peter looked down at the ground, he was pretty high up.

Placing one foot out the window, Peter gripped onto the side of the building. Scaling his way down, Parker then looked up at the night sky -- one of the only things that made him happy and safe; though, in New York, not the best place to feel 'safe' at night. But still, it made him happy so to say. Slinging a web up at a building, Peter swung through mid air, repeating the motion over and over until he was at the same roof that he always goes to.

Sighing to himself, Parker sat upon the rooftop, his feet dangling over the edge. Lifting his mask to where it was rested just above his nose (still covering his eyes and such), he let out another deep breath. Peter stayed this like this for a while, getting lost in his own thoughts.

Memories of Flash came back into his mind when he found out about Peter being trans. Ever since then, Flash would always call Peter by a crude nickname (Penis Parker was always his favourite) or dead naming him. Some days it was just mental abuse; other days were less fortunate. Peter still even lies to Aunt May about why he comes home from school covered in bruises.

A silent tear went down Peter's cheek, his emotions finally catching up to him. Standing up, Peter began to pace on the gravely building rooftop, all kinds of thoughts making their way into his head. More tears came out as he became more hurt. Then, Peter stopped. Turning his head, he stared at the edge of the rooftop. Breathing in, Parker stepped up onto the railing, tears cascading down his cheeks and splashing onto the concrete.

"Spidey?" a voice came out. It was a voice who he usually heard in a sarcastic tone, but this time, it was one of worry and pity. "What are you doing?" 

It was Wade. 

"Go away, Wade." Peter spoke in whispering voice, not trusting his own voice.

"Spidey, I asked you a question. What are you doing up there?" Deadpool repeated.

"Wade, I told you to go away." Peter's jaw ticked.

"And I said --"

"Dammit, Wade!" Peter cried. Taking off his tear stained mask, Peter spun around and looked at the masked mercenary. "I told you to leave me alone!" Though Peter couldn't see it, but under his mask, Wade's eyes widened and his heart broke at the sight. 

"Spidey, get your beautiful ass down here before I do it myself." Deadpool ordered. Jaw ticking, tears welled up in Peter's eyes once more. Stepping down, Parker looked at the gravel under him, not being able to look Wade in the eyes; his mask clutched in his hands.

"What were you doing up there?" Wade questioned for the umpteenth time. 

"I was thinking." Peter replied.

"Well, I know for a fact thinking on top of a roof isn't the best of ideas, especially when you have one to many to drink."

"I don't drink." Peter spoke plainly.

"Tomato potato." Wade waved his hands and he looked down at the younger boy. "Anyway, let's go somewhere else so we can talk -- somewhere without a rooftop to dangle from."

Chapter Text

This Thanksgiving Special has no correlation to the actual story.

"Peter, come on! I can't start cooking without you!" a voice called from outside the white, wooden door. 

"Coming!" Peter hollered once more. A huff was heard from the other side of the door. 

"Dinner has to be ready by noon," the voice sounded from the door once more. Peter sighed, throwing on a random graphic t that was sprawled across the floor. Running a hand through his hair, Peter Parker walked over and opened the door, revealing a, slightly, disheveled Natasha Romanoff. "Wanda's already in the kitchen waiting for us," she answered the unsaid question.

Nodding his head, Peter followed The Avenger to the big kitchen. Upon entering, Wanda was sitting on a kitchen stool, a dark pink apron on her body. Smiling, Wanda handed Natasha an apron in the colour black, and Peter one in the colour red. Natasha threw hers on quickly and tied her auburn hair back into a messy pony tail; Wanda tying hers into a messy bunch. Placing on the apron, Peter tied on his red apron fairly quickly before pulling out a list that was folded up in his back jean pocket. 

Unfolding it, the male placed the quite large list onto the table. All three Avengers hovered over it. "This is the list of what we're making, fairly large, but we have a lot of people eating." Peter spoke aloud, looking between his right and left. The two girls nodded, agreeing. "Thor is in Asgard at the moment, so we don't need to worry about him for now, the same with Loki. Meanwhile Steve, Tony, Bruce, Sam, and Clint are out of the tower; and Vision is off somewhere in said tower. Aunt May and Wade isn't coming until later. This gives us about a couple of hours to finish cooking, set the table, and prepare for the chaos." Natasha raised an eyebrow while Wanda grinned. 

"You planned this out very carefully, you know that, Peter?" Natasha smiled softly, amusement clear in her facial expression. 

"I will take that as a compliment. Now, lets do this sh--" both Natasha and Wanda raised an eyebrow. "ow..?" Wanda laughed quite loudly and walked around the counter, making sure to hand the list on the cabinet above them all. Romanoff only rolled her eyes and walked to the refrigerator and opened the door. Peter looked like he could pass out.

Shaking the feeling off, Peter waked over to the food storage closet and pulled out random ingredients, all ranging from potatoes, apples, rolls, and much more. After two trips, Peter finally placed all the ingredients on the counter, it filling up more than half of the surface. Wanda pulled out a couple of pots and pans, turning on the oven as well for Natasha (who was taking putting the turkey in the oven). Going to the sink, Peter took one of the pots and poured some water into it. Placing that aside onto the top of the stove top, he waited for it to boil. While waiting, he started to prepare the stuffing. Peter has had quite some bit of practice with cooking -- seeing he would help Aunt May a lot with Thanksgiving. 

Once the turkey was in the oven, Natasha began working on the mash potatoes. Pulling out a cutting board, the Avenger also pulled out two bags of large potatoes. Sighing, Romanoff poured all of the potatoes into a very big bowl, and began to wash each of them carefully -- but quickly at the same time. Once that was finished, Nat skinned the potatoes, Peter helping her out as the stuffing was cooking. After what seemed to take forever, the potatoes were finally peeled. Instead of cutting them up smaller, then smashing them, Natasha just muttered a small 'fuck it' and threw them back into the bowl, taking the potato masher and smashed them together.

While doing this, Wanda was off making the cranberry sauce. Taking a fresh bag of cranberries, Wanda emptied them into a free saucepan. Pouring some sugar, lemon zest, and a small amount of water into the mix, the female placed the mixture onto a free stove burner. After increasing the heat, and stirring occasionally, they sauce was almost done. Finally, Maximoff added more sugar and salt and pepper. Setting the now finished food to the side, Wanda jumped to another project; corn. This was fairly easy, so it shouldn't take her long.

Parker, however, was making something a little more time consuming. His 'project', so to speak, was mincemeat pie. Though, it was mostly served during Christmas, Peter couldn't resist, seeing it was one of his all time favourites -- beside the turkey and all the different kinds of pie. Grabbing, yet another, bowl, Peter emptied the meat, pecans, apples, figs, brown sugar, lemon peels, and a touch of brandy. Stirring it all together, Peter set it aside into the fridge. While that set, Parker began to work on the fruit salad. Taking different kinds of fruits (kiwi, strawberry, grapes, etc.), the male began to work. 

Boiling brown sugar, lemon juice, lemon zest, orange juice and orange zest together in a quite large saucepan, Peter then reduced the heat. Once it had simmered down, the boy stirred in he vanilla extract. Letting that sit for a couple of minutes, Peter walked over to the cabinets and pulled out a glass bowl. Going to the fridge and pulling out the fruits, Parker began to layer the fruits in this order; pineapple, strawberry, kiwi, bananas, oranges, grapes, and, finally, blueberries. Checking the time, Peter walked over and grabbed the sauce, pouring it over the fruits. Placing the now finished dish into the cool refrigerator, Peter then grabbed the mincemeat pie. Making the pie crusts, Parker then poured the meat into the crust, placing strips of dough on top of it all. Going back to the second oven that Tony had paid for, seeing that one person would want one thing and the other would want something else, resulting in one of them having to wait for the oven to reopen once more. Putting the pie into the oven, Peter sighed and stiffled a yawn. All this baking was wearing him out. Both Wanda and Natasha seemed to agree.

Soon, the turkey was finished. Peter's stomach growled loudly, causing the females to laugh softly, their stomachs following suit. Wanda blushed lightly at the sound she made. Natasha brushed it off and tried her best to cool the turkey slightly so she could start carving the meat. While Natasha finished the last of the carving, the second oven beeped, signalling  that the mincemeat pie was now finished. Running his tongue over the bottom of his lip, Peter pulled on the oven mitts and pulled out the pie. Placing it on the counter, next to all the other food, Peter put the mitts back up, making sure to pick up after himself. He couldn't stand a messy station, though his room sometimes resembled a pigsty. 

Just then, Bruce, Tony, Steve, Clint, and Sam walked into the kitchen. Upon entering, Tony licked his lips, Clint following suit in actions. Rolling his eyes, Peter chuckled softly. Sam, trying his best, tried to sneak a bite of the stuffing, but his hand was swatting away by Steve who was trying his best to give a strong glare, but resulted in giving up by Sam's puppy dog eyes. Damn him. "Smells delicious!" a new voice hollered. Stark groaned, a frown appearing on his face.

"Hey, Wade." Peter smiled softly at the masked mercenary who was now walking into the kitchen (where everyone happened to be at the moment). "I thought you were going to go and pick up Aunt May?" Peter then asked Tony. Stark's eyes went wide before grabbing the keys and running off into the direction of the door, shouting a loud 'shit!'.

"Language, Tony!" Steve clicked his tongue. Clint and Bruce chuckled, rolling their eyes at the small inside joke. 

"Thor and Loki should be here so -- well, speak of the devil." Clint raised an eyebrow as two gods appeared in the group. 

Thor tilted his head, "I am not sure what you mean, good friend." 

Loki smirked slightly, "'Tis a Midgardian expression, dear brother." Thor made an 'o' shape with his mouth as Wade coughed quite loudly. 

"So, when are we eating? Because, I don't know about you, but I'm starving." he smiled under his mask, though no one could see it -- but the smile was clear and evident in his voice as he joke around, somewhat seriously. Parker chuckled under his breath before answering. 

"As soon as Mr Stark gets back with Aunt May. Right now, I'm going to set the table, anyone want to help?" with that, everyone shook their heads no.

"Sorry, Pete, but I'm warn out, we've been cooking all day." Nat spoke up, Wanda nodding sadly in agreement. If she would, she would help the poor teenage boy in a heartbeat, but she was quite exhausted. 

"I'll help, Spidey." Deadpool spoke up, grabbing the attention of the young superhero. A small smile appeared on the young boys face as he grabbed the plates and walked off into the next room to set up the table with the masked mercenary. Once everyone was out of ear shot, Peter sighed a breath of, somewhat, relief. "So," Wade spoke while taking some of the dishes and silverware, placing them in their correct spots. "What brings you to this side of the Tower?"

Peter rolled his eyes, a goofy grin making its way to his face. "I live here, Wade. I should ask you why you're here." 

"Well," Wade thought for a moment, setting down the last dish and stepping closer to Peter, who was now blushing slightly, his cheeks red. "I'm here, apparently, because my boyfriend, Peter Parker, who is a real beaut, if I say so myself, invited me for Thanksgiving dinner with The Avengers, plus some." Peter's face was now bright red as hands found their way to his waist, pulling him flat against his chest. 

"Really now?" Peter raised an eyebrow, not being able to stop the grin that was on his face. Wade chuckled under his breath as he lifted up his mask slightly and bent down to capture Spider-Man's lips. Eyes fluttering closed, Peter smiled softly against the kiss as Wade nibbled slightly at Parker's bottom lip. Allowing entrance, Peter sighed softly under the touch as he gave up the fight for dominance and let Deadpool explore his mouth like a cavern. The two continued their, wrapped in each others presence, that they didn't even hear a person enter the room, that is until they clear their throat. Eyes widening, Peter pulled away and dark red blush splash across his face. Wade only grumbled under his breath before pulling down his mask and turning towards the person who disturbed their little moment. 

"A-Aunt May," Peter stuttered, "I didn't hear you come in.."

Aunt May stood their for a moment, an emotionless expression upon her face before she grinned a toothy grin. "Well, I wouldn't expect you two, seeing that you were busy sharing saliva with dear Wade over here." Peter tried his best to hide a smile as he pulled away from his boyfriend.

"Alright, let's eat!" Tony boomed excitedly as everyone started to carry food towards the dinning room, placing it all down on the kitchen table. Thanking Tony silently, Peter sighed a breath of relief, glad to avoid confronting the small embarrassing moment that Aunt May caught with him and Wade.

Once all the food was brought into the room, everyone took a seat, Wade sitting besides Peter respectively, as Wanda sat besides his other side. Aunt May sat in front of the pair, Steve and Tony sitting to the left of May; Sam sat on her right. Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Loki all sat scattered about, both into pairs -- Natasha with Clint and Thor with Loki. Bruce, however, sat on one of the ends, Vision happily sitting on the other end in front.

After saying grace, which Thor and Loki were slightly confused about, the group began to dig into the food; Thor, Loki, and Steve basically taking all of the mash potatoes. Rolling his eyes, Peter began to eat his well deserved meal. Under the table however, the young boy felt a strong hand wrap around his. A small smile appear on his face as he looked over at Wade who was acting as if nothing had happened. Squeezing Wade's hand reassuringly, Peter continued to eat with the rest of the group. That is, until Steve spoke. "So, I heard that Aunt May walked in on something she probably shouldn't have." Spider-Man choked on a piece of Turkey, eyes wide as Wade smiled smugly under his mask.

Laughing to himself, Peter Parker shook his head with a smile on his face. Out of all the things he was thankful for, he was probably most grateful for his makeshift family. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but it was family. And for that, he couldn't have been happier.

Chapter Text

"Tomato potato." Wade waved his hands and he looked down at the younger boy. "Anyway, let's go somewhere else so we can talk -- somewhere without a rooftop to dangle from."

Reluctantly, Peter Parker followed Wade Wilson to where ever the hell they were going. Upon stopping in front of a wooden apartment door, Wade smiled sheepishly under his masked and turned around to face the young superhero. "It's a bit messy but," he spoke as he turned back around and opened the door to a random apartment. "Welcome, Spidey, to my bungalow." he spoke happily. Spider-Man looked around the small flat, a feeling of warmth and homeyness filled his heart. Although it was a little messy, enchilada wrappers littering the floor, as well with newspapers and random sticky notes. But despite the rubbish, Parker couldn't have been more grateful. As Parker stepped in, Wade closed the door behind him and cleared the couch to where the younger boy could sit comfortably -- though Wade swears the couch is broken, seeing he could never get comfortable on it. "Wait right here," Deadpool ordered before disappearing out of sight behind another white, wooden door. Upon reappearing, Wade held in his hands a pair of sweatpants and a baggy tshirt that had 'whatever sprinkles your doughnuts' in fade black writing. "Here," Wade offered, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. "You probably aren't comfortable with your suit on, so I thought I could lean you some clothes." Deadpool offered sincerely before adding a quite 'Shut up, yellow'.

Smiling a tight lipped smile, Peter nodded his head, taking the clothes gently and weakly from the older male's hands. "Thank you, Wade."

Wade beamed at those words, smiling goofily under his mask. Peter stood their for a moment, however, lingering. That's when it hit wade.

'He doesn't have any where to change, you asshat!'  yellow commented inside of his head. Wade's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Clearing his throat, he pointed over his shoulder to the hallway behind him. "Oh, um, the bathroom is the door on the right, just so you, uh, know.." Peter, once more, smiled thinly, nodded his head, and set out for the door on the right.

Upon reentering the living area, if that was something you would call Wade's littered 'living' room, Peter found a glass of water placed on top of a coaster that was on the coffee table in front of the 'broken' couch. "I hope they fit," Wade spoke up from the other end of the couch, his ankles crossed as he looked up at Spider-Man. "They're mine, and I don't know your size, so I kind of just grabbed my smallest set of pants and shirt." Scanning the young superhero up and down, Wade did have to admit that even though they were the smallest clothing items he owned, they were super huge on the young, teenage boy. But, Wade thought, I bet he does have some ripped abs underneath that shirt. 

Rolling his eyes under his mask, Wade grumbled mentally at himself, causing Peter to turn his head. "Thank you, Wade." Peter said sincerely, stepping over a piece of paper and sitting down gently on the couch, wincing audibly at the binder he kept on.

"Hey, Spidey, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" Wade fired questions suddenly, his voice laced with both concern and worry. 

Shaking his head, Parker just waved his hand, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from hissing out. "It's n-" Peter grunted, "-othing." Although the Avenger couldn't see it, he was sure Deadpool was raising a sassy eyebrow. Peter's eyes replicated the size of saucers, shit, he didn't have his mask on! Swallowing the saliva building up in his mouth, Peter Parker only prayed that Wade wouldn't go spilling his 'Spider-Man Secret' around town, though, Deadpool doesn't seem to be the type of person to do something like that. But, you never know. Just because a person doesn't look it, doesn't mean they aren't. 

With that being said, Spider-Man cleared his throat once more, trying his best to start up a different subject -- one of him not being hurt. "So, the weather, am I right?" It took all of Wade to not sigh audibly and face palm himself into next week. The fuck kind of question is that?

"Spidey, something's wrong." Wade started, sighing this time. "And I know you have no obligation to tell me, but, as a friend of mine, I care for you, though you might not see me as a friend back. Still, either way, I can tell you need someone to talk to, and those asshats at the 'Avenger Tower' that I am so sadly banned at, aren't giving you the lending ear that you need. That," Wade thought, tilting his head to the side and back. "Or, you just feel uncomfortable telling them."

Realizing that the masked mercenary was right, and that he could, after all, function without sarcasm for a straight second. Biting his bottom lip, Peter sighed and stared at the untouched glass of liquid. "Peter." 

"Huh?"

"My name," Parker sighed, "Is Peter. If we're friends, I think we should know each other's names, and seeing that I know yours already, I think it's only fair you know mine." There was a soft pause of silence. Wade grinned happily. 

"Peter is a nice name." he commented in a whisper, his mask muffling his voice slightly. "So, Peter, am I right?" This time, Peter was silent. He didn't want to admit it, but, Deadpool was right. He had to tell someone, it was eating him up inside. 

"Yeah," the young boy spoke after a minutes silence, tears prickling the back of his eyes as he took a deep breath. Wade looked taken aback, his eyebrows raised highly at the sudden change of Peter's attitude. "Wade," Parker muttered as he turned his head to face the mercenary. "You promise you won't think of me any differently?" Wade shook his head, a soft, sad smile on his lips. 

"I would never," he answered honestly.

"And you promise you won't tell anyone, either?" Peter then asked, which earned another head shake from Deadpool.

"I would never, Spidey." Wade talked softly and reassuringly to the young teen.

Taking a deep breath, Peter inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, just like Aunt May had said when he needed to calm down and stop an oncoming panic attack. Then, Peter Parker told Wade everything. From all the bullying at his school, his uncle Ben, his wide range of disorders, how he was staying with The Avengers, his depression, and finally, him being transgender. At the end of it all, Peter was holding back tears at the strong silence that made its way over and between the two. Suddenly, Wade stood up, and the young boy thought he was going to loose it. 'What if he doesn't like me anymore?' 'What if he thinks I'm disgusting?' 'What if he thinks I'm a disgrace?' 'What if--'

His thoughts were interrupted by Deadpool grabbing Peter's arm softly, pulling him off the broken couch, and into a hug; and under Wade's touch, the young boy let a stray tear fall down his cheek -- letting out all the pent up anger and sadness out. 

Peter Parker, was coming unraveled. 

Chapter Text

In Peter's eyes, Aunt May was Wonder Woman, to others than his self, not so much. But with every 'superhero', such as Wonder Woman her self, there is always some flaw about them. Aunt May's was being human, and being human doesn't protect you from everything. 

Of all things, May Reilly Parker Jameson liked to think of her self as more than just an aunt to the marvelous Spider-Man -- and yes, she knew, she wasn't stupid. Though Peter liked to keep her in the dark about his other identity, anything with two eyes and a low-level functioning brain could figure out the truth of why he was so late coming home, with horribly, make-up covered bruises. So when the infamous Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man comes knocking at her door, asking if Peter could come live with them, 'to keep better tabs on his internship', of course, May knew exactly what was up.

"I doubt that is very true, Mr. Stark." May raised an eyebrow at the older gentleman. Once Peter and Stark had their little 'secret talk', Mr. Stark came back downstairs and talked to May privately, explaining that he would like her nephew, Peter Parker, to live at the Avenger's Tower to keep tabs on his 'internship'.

"What do you mean?" Stark raised a high eyebrow, making sure that he kept his voice low in case Peter decided to listen in, though that was more or likely untrue, seeing Peter was upstairs in the midst of an existential crisis.

May pursed her lips. "You and me both know that there is no 'internship', Mr. Stark." Tony feigned confusion.

"I'm not sure I understand." he spoke, which May chuckled too. "And please, call me Tony." Peter's aunt rolled her eyes, leaning up against the kitchen counter that her and Mr. Stark were huddled in. 

"I know that you know that Peter has another side of him that is supposedly kept secret from me." Tony's eyes widened for a split second before turning back to normal, acting if he wasn't surprised by the news. Rubbing the back of his neck, Tony sighed.

"Why haven't you confronted him about it then?" the male then asked.

"It is under my impression that he will tell me when he is ready. Though, if he keeps putting himself into harms way, I will have a word with him." May answered. "And I know that Peter needs a good mentor that can deal with all this superhero stuff, and I know that I am not the right person to do it. So, Tony, I give you my permission to let Peter live with you at the Tower, as long as you watch after him, keep him safe, and he doesn't skip out of school." Tony chuckled softly before his eyebrows tugged together.

"There's more to this little story, isn't there May?" he spoke in a serious tone, seeing right past her white lies. May sighed, a frown appearing on her gentle face as he nodded her head sadly.

"There is." she spoke sadly, and just from that, Tony could tell that something was seriously wrong. "I'm sick, Mr. Stark. Really sick."

Tony hesitated. "How sick?"

May looked up sadly at the billionaire, "Cancer sick." 

Tony ran a hand over his face, his suit suddenly becoming a little too tight on his body. "What type?" May stood silent, her jaw slightly clinched. "What type?" Stark repeated, his voice a little louder than what he meant it too be.

"Lung." she spoke softly. Tony took a sharp in take of air. Turning around, he placed both of his hands on the counter, shifting all his weight into his arms. 

"How far has it spread?" he questioned, his voice low.

Once again, May hesitated. "Almost every where." she whispered with teary eyes. "Even to my brain." she admitted. Tony chewed the inside of his cheek.

"What have the doctors done for it?"

"They say 'it has become to advance to cure. I'm basically a walking, talking time bomb'." she spoke, recalling word for word what multiple doctors have told her personally. Tony rapped the counter surface with his fingers. 

"How much longer?" he then questioned, already knowing that it was a stupid thing to ask.

Aunt May only shook her head, "Not much." 

"Does Peter know?" Tony questioned, which Aunt May shook her head 'no' to.

Tony's eyes glossed over at the thought of Peter loosing yet another person close to him in his life. First, it was his parents, then his uncle, and soon, his aunt. When Tony lost his parents, he was broken inside. Though, they weren't as close as normal families were, they were still a big part of his life. But to see Peter loose his and be tossed to his aunt and uncle, then loose his uncle not even years later? That had to break him even more. Now, he was just barely getting over Ben's death, finally finding solitude in Aunt May. And now, that rug was being pulled right out from under him once more. "I'll find you the best doctors in the world, hell, I'll even get Banner onto it. You can't leave Peter alone again, the boy has gone through too much."

May was teary eyed. She knew that Tony was right. "I know, but I know my time is coming up very soon. There's no use in trying to solve an impossible puzzle, Mr. Stark." 

"Nothing's impossible, May." Tony's hands clenched into fists. "We can find a cure for this, I know we can. Those doctors don't know shit." Once again, May shook her head.

"Even if you do find a cure, Tony, I wouldn't feel right about it, 'defeating' death and all. Not every one is a superhero like you." 

Tony let out a small breath, resembling a humourless laugh. "Peter needs you. You can't just expect him to be fine and okay with all this. He has already lost his parents, then Ben, and soon to be you! He only just now started to get his life together, and then you -- you refuse treatment? May," he spoke more calmly, looking at the woman for the first time in a while, "Peter needs you -- he needs his family." 

"That's why he has you." May swallowed. "He'll have you and Mr. Rogers, and all the other's. He has a family, he just doesn't know it yet. And I'm not refusing treatment, I'm saving you time from getting wrapped into something that isn't solvable." 

Tony knitted his eyebrows together. "What are you getting at?"

"I want you to adopt Peter after my death." Tony's eye's bulged, but May continued to speak before the male started talking in shock. "When I'm gone, Peter will have no other relatives or family members to turn to, and seeing he is underage, he will be sent to an orphanage if he is not adopted." Once more, Tony ran a hand over his face.

"May," he breathed, "This is -- this is a lot.." he stuttered.

"Tony," she pleaded softly. "It's the one thing I ask of you. I can tell Peter trusts you, hell, he idolizes you. I'm sure he'll be glad that you and Mr. Rogers will adopt him."

"Okay bu-- wait, wait, Steve? Who said we're together?" Tony stuttered once again, a slight shade of pink on his cheeks. 

"Please," May chuckled softly, "I can tell by the way you looked at him during the battle on tv  -- plus, he's your screensaver on your phone, for god's sake." Tony blushed deeper, trying his best to direct the conversation.

"But May," he tried again, running a hand through his short hair. 

"Please." she tried one final time, pure sadness and hopefulness in her voice as she spoke to the hero. 

Tony crumbled under the weight, "Fine," he muttered softly, "As long as you are the one to tell Peter about the, uh, 'sickness'." May only nodded her head and leaned off the counter top, the male hero following her actions. 

"Thank you, Tony." she smiled through the oncoming tears that she tried her best to hold back. "Truly. But," she pointed a finger at the slightly older man, "if you hurt him, or let him get hurt, I will come back and haunt your ass, you hear?" Tony chuckled softly before pulling Aunt May into a tight hug.

"I promise that I won't let Peter get hurt. Me and Steve will protect him with all of our might. Plus," Tony smiled evilly, "he is the 'Star Spangled Man With A Plan'." This time, May laughed, shaking her head.

Of all things, May Reilly Parker Jameson was not a superhero, but, maybe we weren't all made to be superheroes.

Chapter Text

Wade's idea of a good time usually meant enchiladas, alcohol, and a good movie, but seeing that Peter couldn't drink, nor even stomach food at the moment, Wade had to improvise. So, there they were; New York's amazing Spider-Man laying up against the infamous mercenary watching Harry Potter -- which Deadpool claimed to be his favourite movie, well, at least one of his favourite movies.

See, once the young superhero settled down from his sobs, switching for a few sniffs and 'sorry's here and there, Wade decided it would be a good idea to forget about the current situation, even for just a second, and switch on something that would make him, Peter, happy. 

Even though Wade killed people for a living, that didn't stop him from helping people constantly. All he wanted, really, was for Peter to be happy. And seeing this distraught, mess of a hero? It made the man insane. He was filled with outrage.

Outrage for Flash, for the goddamn woman behind the counter, all the bullying, the teachers not helping, and even The Avengers -- especially Tony Stark.

To begin with, Wade and Tony never had the 'buddy-buddy' friendship thing. The only reason he was even mad at Stark was because he made Peter feel like he wouldn't be accepted for who is he. Though, Stark never did it on purpose, it still hurt Peter -- whether the older male realized he was doing it to begin with.

And don't even get Wade started on that fucker named Flash. Who the hell names their kid 'Flash', anyways? Like, what the hell?

Flash Thompson was nothing but a no-good fucking asshole, who enjoyed taking out his problems at home onto innocent classmates, specifically, Peter. Wade was outraged when he told him about what he had done, and continuously does. Though, for the sake of Peter, he managed to bottle it up and only make some snide remarks to Yellow and Whitey -- which, even they were upset about the matter. I mean, who wouldn't be? An innocent kid getting beat to near death for absolute no reason? And don't even get started on the dead-naming, nor the transphobic slurs, comments, and nicknames.

Deadpool clinched his jaw as he stared down at the now sleeping Peter Parker. They were only half way through the fifth movie, Harry Potter and Order of the Phoenix when the younger boy fell asleep, his head rested into Wade's side, his hand resting on his chest. Smiling lazily through the annoying black and red mask, Wilson lifted his arm slowly and pulled Peter even closer, letting his hand mess around in those beautiful brown curls. Pausing the movie, Wade glanced at the clock, noting that it was around ten that night. Hating himself for what he was about to do, Wade mentally punched himself.

Removing his arm from Peter, he gently shook the young boy awake, which took about three tries. Man, he was actually a heavy sleeper. Sitting up, Parker rubbed his eyes and yawned slightly. Wade nearly teared up. He looked so innocent, like nothing bad had ever happened to him, it was amazing, truly. "Wade..?" Peter spoke softly in a tired voice. Instantly, Deadpool snapped out of his thoughts and looked Peter in the eyes through his mask.

"H-Hey," he stuttered, which wasn't usually like him, "I hate to say, but it's getting late. I would ask you to say, but I know you wouldn't want to. Plus, Stark and your aunt would have the whole police force searching for you if you weren't there in the morning."

This woke Peter straight up. Eyes widening, he ran a hand through his hair as he glanced at Wade's clock. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. Wiping away the sleepiness, Wilson only then noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the fatigue he was sporting. Frowning as Peter removed himself completely, Deadpool stood up himself. Parker grabbed his things and marched it to the bathroom to change back into his suit (and binder, though Wade was absolutely against the idea, saying that Peter needed to heal properly, but, when did Peter ever listen?)

Coming back out with his mask in hand and folded clothes in the other, Parker handed the clothes back to the mercenary. "Thank you, Wade. Really." Peter smiled up at him gratefully. "You didn't have to do this -- any of this, but, you did. You aren't really a bad guy, you know." 

Wade chuckled, his voice deep, but his tone lighthearted. "Why thank you, young spiderling. And you can keep the clothes, they look better on you anyways." Spidey blushed a light shade of pink at that. "But," Wade rose an eyebrow (though, Parker couldn't tell), "When you get home, I want you to take that blasted binder off and get some shut eye. You need it."

Nodding his head, Peter pinkie-promised the older male that he would do what he was told, and upon arrive back at The Tower, Peter did exactly that.

The plan for this lovely Saturday morning went as followed;

Wake up, get dressed (in the clothes wade had gave him), eat some serial, and then some other things that Peter has yet to add. 

Sighing, Parker only realized that he has accomplished step one and two. Running a hand through his hair, Peter pulled at the baggy graphic t. He wasn't wearing a binder (due to both Nat and Wade killing him simultaneously), nor a sports bra, because he still hurt from the 'wounds'. Chewing the inside of his cheek -- which was a habit he really needed to stop -- the young spider made his way to the kitchen. It was around five in the morning, so he didn't really except anyone to be up. Boy, was he wrong.

Upon entering the kitchen, Peter was shocked to see almost everyone up. Steve was at the stove cooking breakfast, Wanda and Vision were in the corner talking quietly, Bruce and Sam were at the counter talking in hushed voices as well, Natasha was leaning up against the wall next to the fridge, and Clint, for some unknown reason, was on top of the fridge. 

Walking in, almost everyone lightened up at the sight of the boy. "Hey, Peter!" Wanda smiled, cutting short her conversation with Vision. Vision nodded his head in greeting, saying a quick 'good morning'. 

"Hey, Wanda." Peter smiled back as he stood awkwardly in the door frame. Clint rolled his eyes and Sam just shook his head slightly with a small smile. 

"You know," Natasha raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on her face, "You don't have to be so... awkward." Blushing a light tent of pink, the young boy nodded and made his way to the counter, pulling up a chair besides Sam -- he would never sit beside of Bruce. Not because he was scared of him, but because he was scared that he would bother him or embarrass himself. 

"So," Steve spoke, looking over his shoulder from where he was occupying the stove top, "School starts up for the year on Monday, you ready to go back?"

Parker held back a sigh. Did anyone really want to go back? Sure, he had Ned and MJ, which he has texted here and there over the break, but, to be honest, he didn't want to go back. And no, it wasn't because he didn't want to see his only friends, it was because off all the stress between schoolwork and Flash. Plus, Peter knew the moment he went back, Flash would start up right where they left off, and they did not leave on good terms. "Definitely. I can't wait to see Ned and MJ." Peter replied, lying through his teeth. The only people to see through it were Clint, who was still on the refrigerator, and Natasha. Neither, however, spoke of their discovery.

"That's good to hear. I know a lot of people think school isn't the best thing in the world, which, they're probably right, but, it is important." Steve smiled, placing the pan aside and turning off the stove top. Just then, Tony walked into the room.

"I heard my name?"

Clint raised an eyebrow. "Literally no one said your name." 

Tony tsked, "Ah, see, that's where you're wrong, Clint." Peter knitted his eyebrows together, but continued to listen in. "Steve said the word important, therefore, he must be talking about me."

Sam wanted to bang his head up against the counter top as Bruce rolled his eyes. Natasha showed no emotion, like usual, and Steve looked like he was holding back a smile. Peter, on the other hand, was holding back a laugh. "Sure," Clint rolled his eyes again, hopping down from off his 'nest'. "So, Cap, what's for breakfast?"

Chapter Text

This Christmas Special has no correlation to the actual story.

"You better hurry that sweet ass of yours, Spidey." Deadpool whined, bouncing up and down in the same place. Peter rolled his eyes, throwing on his blue and red beanie. Huffing, Parker walked out of Wade's bedroom and looked up to the male.

Currently, Peter was at Wilson's place, seeing he needed to do some last minute gift shopping-- and by last minute, he means 'letsgoshoppingforgiftsonchristmasday!'. "I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your socks." he spoke. Wade rolled his eyes before stepping forwards to zip up the dark red coat that Peter so idiotically left unzip in the middle of winter in New York. Sometimes Wade wondered who was the smarter one out of the two. Tilting his head, Wade thoughts momentarily. 

"Definitely me." he spoke to no on in particular.

"What?"

Wade shook his head. "Nothing, babe. Now, let's go because I know the mall is going to be packed fuller than my Quinceañera." Peter chuckled slightly as his boyfriend grabbed his hand and ran, yes, ran, out the front door, almost forgetting to shut it behind him. Rushing to the small black car, Peter hopped in the passenger side as Wade quickly moved to start the car and getting the heat going. "Damn winter." he muttered under his breath. Wade was never one for cold weather. Once more, Peter laughed softly.

"It's New York, Wade. What do you expect?"

Wade raised an eyebrow. "Maybe some fucking warm weather for once. You know you don't like this weather either, Spidey. Can't go around in your spandex, showing off that nice ass of yours, in a heavy ass coat. Oh! Look at me! I'm Spider-Man in a--"

Parker sighed. "I get your point, Wade." Wilson smiled happily at that, giving his partner a big, toothy grin. Peter rolled his eyes as he reached over the arm console and grabbed Wade's hand, mindlessly carding his fingers into his. Blushing the slightest red, Peter couldn't tell if it was because of him or the cold weather -- he guessed the latter. "Now," he smiled looking at his beautiful boyfriend. "Let's go because, like you said, it's going to be packed to the max."

"Technically, I said in the previous paragraphs; 'Now, let's go because I know the mall is going to be packed fuller than my Quinceañera'." Peter raised an eyebrow and Wade put his free hand up in surrender. Unwillingly letting go of his Spider, Wade put the car in gear and drove off to the local mall.

Upon arriving, Spider-Man nearly gasped at the sight of people inside. There were shit tons, holy hell. Social anxiety activated. 

Sensing this, Wade grabbed Peter's clothed hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Glancing up, the younger boy nodded his head with a small smile and a deep breath. "Alright," he spoke, his confidence being slowly restored, "I need to get Tony, Steve, Wanda, and Bruce's gifts. As well as Thor, Loki, Nat, and Clint."

"Don't forget Sam's, Rhodey, Aunt May, and Vision -- oh, and me, if you haven't already." Wade chimed in with a smile. Peter sighed, shit. He forgot about those, including Wade's. Though only meeting Thor and Loki once, as well as Rhodey, he felt obliged to get them gifts. Pulling the cotton Spider-Man themed gloves off and sticking them into his coat, (Wade thought it was a hilarious idea), Peter checked his wallet. He didn't have much, seeing as he barely had a job, well, an 'internship'. Placing his wallet back in his pant pocket, he looked back up to Wade.

"Where to first?"

Peter thought for a split second before pulling Wade off to a random store. "Let's get Aunt May's first. She'll probably be the easiest to get." Wade nodded his head in understanding and followed after his boyfriend. Walking inside the store, both male's got overwhelmed by the amount of people in such a small store.

"Holy jingle balls."

Peter was going to instantly regret this..

Finally, after what felt like years, Peter finished buying all the presents, well, except for Wade's. Tony will get a new tie, Steve will receive a Captain America themed pocket watch, Wanda will receive some new cooking supplies, and Bruce will get some custom made beakers with the words 'You're Overreacting' written on them, (seeing Tony broke the last beakers in a 'Taylor Swift Rage', whatever that was).

Loki will get some emerald earrings (for when it is his female days) while his brother, Thor, will be getting a beanie that is similar to his helmet (stitched in wigs included). Natasha, of course, will be getting a new gun holster, which was really hard to find in the mall, and Clint will be getting some Nerf arrows for his bow, seeing Tony refuses to get him any after the 'incident'. 

Sam, of course, will be getting a Star Trek graphic t (remembering Clint and Sam's argument over Star Wars and Star Trek). Rhodey will be given a handkerchief and Vision will be getting a small bell to put on his waist, so people will know when he basically floats by. 

The two boys were just now checking out with Aunt May's gift, which was a glasses case that has a scenery over a blue forest painted on it. "So, that's everyone accounted for, isn't it?" Wade questioned his partner. Deadpool's feet was hurting, he was tired, and he was hungry. And let me tell you, a hungry Deadpool isn't the best Deadpool. 

{When is there even a 'good' Deadpool?} Yellow questioned in Wade's head, a snigger coming afterwards. Wade rolled his eyes.

(When did you become so you so mean?) Whitey retorted, sort of defending the male. 

{When did you become so annoying?}

(When did you become so-- oOH! PRETZELZZZ!!!) Wade snapped his head to the left, sniffing the air. His eyes then landed on a random pretzel shop.

"Umm, I just need to get one more person's gift, and then we can head back." Peter answered, not paying a bit of attention to Wade's behaviour. 

"Babe," the older male called. "Babe, babe, babe, they have pretzels," he smiled widely, his stomach growling quite loudly. "They have motherfucking pretzels!"

Shaking his head, Peter walked over to the shop with Wade, noticing how famished he was as well. This tiny snack could hold them over until they get to eat back at the Tower. The Avengers, and co, decided to just order food in instead of making a big deal like the year before Peter arrived -- which he was still confused about. Something to do with chicken, eggnog, and fondue..?

Snacking on the small food, Peter sighed happily as he held tightly onto his boyfriend's hand. He wore a happy smile on his face, though he was worried about what to get Deadpool. That's when an idea popped into his idea. Finishing his pretzel, Peter excused himself for the bathroom. Wilson pouted, but obliged. Parker walked around the corner towards the restrooms, and once he was out of view, he booked it towards the jewelers. 

Quickly, he was in and out in no longer than ten minutes. Stuffing the small box in his pocket, Peter speed walked back to Wade. He was still sitting at their table, exactly like he left him. Seeing his back was turned, Peter took this moment to sneak up on his boyfriend and tap his shoulder. Deadpool jumped ten inches out of his seat with a loud, high-pitched squeak. People's heads snapped to the pair, but Wade didn't pay any attention, and Peter tried not to. Turning around, Wade huffed a breath when he realized it was only Peter, his cheeks dusted red under his black and red hoodie.

"Jesus, Pete, scare a girl, don't ya?"

Parker sat down by his boyfriend, carefully holding onto the box in his coat jacket -- afraid he will loose it. "Sorry, babe." he apologized. "I didn't think you would scream." Wilson rolled his eyes before he stood up. Picking up the bags, the two boys talked and flirted all the way to their car. After placing it all in the backseat, Wade started the car and they drove off back to Wade's.

{Little did Spidey know, we got him something to!} Yellow smirked happily inside the older's mind.

(You make it sound perverted,) Whitey huffed in exasperation. Wade rolled his eyes as he pulled up to his apartment building and parked in his usual spot. Getting out, Peter shivered slightly at the chilly, cold weather, the latter doing the same. Bouncing up and down to retain warmth, Deadpool and Spider-Man grabbed the gifts in the backseat and made a run for the flat.

Slamming the living room door shut, the two sighed at the temperature change once more. Placing the gifts down on the couch, Wade walked off. Peter yawned slightly as he took off his winter gear, making sure to keep the small box in the coat pocket (so Wade wouldn't find it, seeing it is for him). Not a second later, the said person came around the corner carrying mountains of wrapping paper, tape, scissors, bows and ribbons, and copious other things. It also looked like he stripped of his winter gear as well.

Walking over and putting the objects on the table, Wade turned around and pulled his lover into his chest. Peter smiled warmly as he wrapped his arms around Wade's middle, pulling him even closer. 

The two stood like that for a while, just enjoying each others company, smiling happily at each other. That is, until Peter realized he had to start wrapping the mountains of gifts. Groaning, he checked his phone before jumping with realization -- he was going to be late if he didn't start wrapping now!

With presents in his arms, stacked so high he had to walk sideways to see, Peter walked into the living room of the Avenger's Tower, Wade by his side. Wade, was also carrying around the same amount of parcels, but, Peter, unluckily, had a bit more.

"There's the kid," Sam joked before his eyes bulged. "Jesus f--" Steve raised an eyebrow, a bemused expression clear on his face. "--udge?" Clint sniggered as he plopped down next to Natasha on one of the couches. Peter hid a smile as he walked over to the gigantic Christmas tree and placed the wrapped packages down on the floor. There were already tons of gifts, basically overflowing the bottom, but still, Peter found way to place them. Playing Tetris really paid off. 

Groaning, Wade dramatically collapsed to the floor. "I'm going to starve!" 

Tony rolled his eyes, equally dramatically, "You're fine, Wilson. If there are any people starving, it's probably Steve, Peter, and when they arrive, Thor and Loki -- seeing they have faster metabolisms than you do." Deadpool resisted the urge to flip the old man off. He good and well was starving, and no billionaire was going to tell him he wasn't!

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair as he picked up at his partner by the back of his shirt, dragging him up. "Come on, Wade, work with me here." Wade shook his head, his lower lip stuck out.

"Oh my god, Tony, you broke the poor guy." Clint spoke with mock worry. 

Just then, two god's appeared in the small living room, with a bang. Quite literally.

Stark groaned as he looked at the newly smashed chair. "Dammit, Thor."

"Language,"

"My apologize, man of Iron." the god apologized.

"For the last time, call us by our first names!" the philanthropist groaned, tossing his head back in exasperation. Wanda then took the time to come into the living room, breaking up the beginning of a small tiff. Vision, Bruce, and Rhodey followed behind her. Now they were just waiting on Aunt May.

Not even three minutes later, the older woman arrived in a black fuzzy sweater with white reindeer's in a printed line. Her hair was parted to the side, and she had a bag full of gifts in her hand. "When is the food going to be here?!" Wade called out theatrically, still on the floor. Peter gave up on trying to get him up, so, he just plopped down on the floor beside of him.

Loki rolled his eyes at the idiotic Midgardian. "Does he ever shut up?" he questioned Natasha, who he sat beside. 

"Afraid not," she spoke sadly, a playful frown on her face. Loki sighed in the same tone, a small smirk threatening to appear.

"Are you having fun, brother?" Thor questioned, eyebrow raised as he smiled happily.

"Fuck you."

"LANGUAGE!"

Soon, the food arrived. Wade jumped up faster than an Olympic athlete, and Thor was silently excited. Tony had basically bought the restaurants food supply, seeing there was so many. But, again, Tony did prepare  ahead of time, seeing that they did have a people with appetites like crazy.

Everyone piled food onto their plates, Peter, Steve, and the two brothers went back for their seconds before anyone was halfway finished with their first. The group laughed, telling jokes and whatnot, that is, until Stark decided to break out a couple cold ones. 

Seeing Steve couldn't process booze, Peter was underage, and Thor and Loki would have to have gallons of the stuff, only a select few drank a beer, those being; Clint, Rhodey, Sam, Nat, and, suprisingly, Aunt May. Peter's eyebrows shot up at the sight; he's never seen his aunt drink alcohol before. This, to say the least, was going to be interesting..

"Let's open some gifts, bitches!" Tony shouted, raising his beer. Everyone automatically turned to Cap, awaiting the infamous catchphrase. Sighing, Rogers rolled his eyes and whispered a quiet; "Language." The group laughed, all except Loki and Wade -- which, Wade was more.. fangirling..? 

Tony and Wanda passed out the wrapped parcels, everyone getting an equal amount -- which surprised both Wade and Peter. The group got the respective gifts from Peter. Tony loved the tie, seeing it was Ironman doodled. Steve loved his pocket watch, saying that he wanted a new one. Wanda loved her cooking supplies, instantly thanking the younger boy, saying that he shouldn't have got her anything. Bruce cackled at his beakers, which Stark laughed at as well.

Loki appreciated his earrings, saying that they were a beautiful colour of green. Thor instantly put on his beanie, the stitched wigs flapping as he turned his head in all directions. Loki facepalmed, muttering under his breath about something. Natasha and Clint both enjoyed their presents, Tony nearly cursing Peter out for buying Barton the arrows.

Sam fanboyed over his graphic t, making sure to stick his tongue out, and flip off, Clint on the down low when no one was 'watching'. Rhodey was greatly happy with his handkerchief, and even Vision was slightly amused by the bell. Aunt May thanked her nephew for the new glasses case, complimenting the colour and painting choice.

Peter, on the other hand, was overwhelmed by all the generocity, and gifts given towards him.

From Tony and Bruce he had received new film for his Polaroid, Steve got him a portable record player -- saying it reminded him of when he was little. Wade gifted him some muscle soak, for when he had tough missions and needed a break, Thor and Loki had brought him a corded bracelet with a beautiful stone. The two said that it was one of the most finest gems on Asgard. 

Natasha and Clint gave him a gun so they could practice later on -- which they both swore that was a bb gun to worried Aunt May and Steve, though the wink sent the boy's way said otherwise. Vision gave the younger teen a microwavable popcorn popper (seeing how Parker was always late night snacking on popcorn). Rhodey gave him a leather back journal, seeing that Peter goes through one in two weeks, and Sam got him a Star Wars shirt, even though he still stood with his point on how Star Trek was better.

The group laughed and continued gossiping until around midnight, some of them slightly drunk, and the others wishing they could be. If they had to listen to one more punny joke-- "That's it! I'm calling the police!" Sam groaned, his head throne back as he tried to cover his ears. Bruce was telling another science joke and Sam wanted to rip off his ears. 

"But I wasn't even finished," the scientist pouted slightly, causing Aunt May to giggle, trying to cover a hiccup. 

"I agree with the Midgardian." Loki spoke, "I don't think I can handle another 'punny' joke, either." Thor nodded his head. Wade also agreed, though it was more louder, consisting of 'Oh my Chuck, will you shut the fuck up?!' which, Steve didn't take too well of. Nonetheless, Peter laughed, enjoying some of the corny jokes that only a handful could understand.

The night drew to an end, everyone parting their ways; Rhodey went back to his house and Aunt May was called a taxi to take her back to her own home. The rest of the Avengers went back to their room. Tony and Steve both allowed Wade to stay the night, seeing how late it was, but only if they didn't, as Tony put it, 'fondue'. (Steve smacked Stark upside the head after that).

Peter blushed bright red and nodded his head. Wade also promised to not fondue with Parker, either. Going back to Peter's assigned room, the two stepped in and closed the door. Not wasting one second, they engulfed each other, snuggling together as they stood in the middle of the, quite large, bedroom. That is, until Peter pulled away. "Shit, I forgot." he muttered to his partner. Walking over to his desk, he fiddled with his coat and pulled out a, now wrapped, box. It was small to say the least, but Deadpool looked like he was going to cry.

Reaching around, Wade also pulled out a similar box. The two sat on Peter's bed, exchanging the gifts. Wade opened his first and he smiled tearilly. There, laid in the velvet coloured box, was a bracelet. On it had the coordinates of where they met engraved into the copper like gold surface. For once, Wade Wilson was silent.

The only thing he could do was carefully take it out of the box and slip it on his wrist. Placing his hands on either side of Peter's face, he kissed the younger boy passionately, the only way he could say 'thank you' at the moment. Peter smiled as they pulled apart. Now, it was time for Peter to open his.

Carefully unwrapping the paper, he then open the box. Parker matched his boyfriend's expression. Teary eyed, he laughed softly at the gift. It was two gold, matching necklaces in the form of handcuffs. Inside was a folded up piece of paper. Picking up the piece of paper, the young boy read it aloud in a soft whisper;

"My Dearest Peter and Partner In Crime,

If there is ever a tomorrow when we're no longer together, there is something you must always remember.

You are braver than you believe. 

You are stronger than you seem.

And you are smarter than you could ever think.

But the most important thing is, even if we are apart, I will always be with you.

And to remind you that you're stuck with me for life and how lucky I am to have you, is this gift from my heart, to, hopefully, yours.

To another year of causing mayhem and destruction.

-Wade."

No longer to hold back the tears, Peter silently cried, tears dripping down onto the paper. "Shit," Wade muttered under his breath, "Was it that bad? I'm sorry if you--"

"Thank you." the young boy whispered. Pulling out the two necklaces, Spider-Man put on his and then scooted closer to his 'partner in crime' and clipped Wade's on him. "It's amazing."

{I think we can count that as a win,}

(Shut up, you're going to ruin the moment!)

"I'm glad you like it, baby boy." Wade smiled softly down at his boyfriend. Placing the empty boxes and access wrapping paper aside, the two climbed under the covers and held each other tightly, too afraid to let go. Placing his chin on Peter's head, the younger boy sighed of content. Looking up, Peter stared up at Wade. He was all he could ask for.

"JARVIS, please turn off the lights." the AI followed his orders without a word. "Happy Christmas, Wade."

"Happy Christmas, Peter."

Chapter Text

It was Monday morning. The most dreaded day of the week, or, in this case, the first day back to school. His hands trembling with nerves, Peter swallowed what saliva he had left and walked up the stairs to Hell.

His black hoodie was up, covering his face. Even though they went shopping, Peter still refused to get rid of the item. His uncle Ben got it for him for his birthday one year. It was one of the only things he had left of him. Shaking the thought away, Parker carefully walked to his locker, keeping an extra eye out for the person who made his life a living nightmare.

Once arriving to said locker, Peter was relieved that he made it in here so far without being noticed, better yet, acknowledged. Opening the grey locker door, Peter placed his book bag inside and began to shuffle around for the correct books he would need. "Hey, Peter!" a voice shouted happily.

Nearly jumping a mile high, Peter placed his hand over his chest when he realized it was only Ned. Sighing once more, Peter relaxed and smiled back at his best friend. "Hey, Ned. Where's MJ?" 

"Right here." a new voice came from behind him. Spinning around, Peter almost went into a fighting stance before realizing that it was only Michelle.

"You guys really got to stop doing that." Peter whined before grabbing his science and maths books out. Slamming the locker door closed, Peter pulled down the hood of his hoodie and began to walk with his small friend group. They had a few minutes to spare, so they decided to get caught up on all the stuff that had happened. And seeing that MJ knew he was Spider-Man, he didn't hold back any details.

"Wait, so you're telling me that you, Peter Parker, are living with the freaking Avengers!" Ned whisper shouted loudly. Parker's eyes widened before clamping a hand over Leeds mouth. 

"Shh!" he whispered back frantically. MJ rolled her eyes. 

"If you didn't want to draw attention to your conversation, you shouldn't have clamped his mouth shut. Now people are looking, idiot." she spoke, her voiced laced with heavy sarcasm. Looking around, still wide eyed, Spider-Man did realized that a few confused people were staring at them weirdly. Instantly removing his hand, Peter stuffed the both of them into his hoodie pocket. "Weirdo." 

"You didn't answer my question," Ned spoke once more, still as excited as ever. "You're living with the Aven--"

"Well, if it isn't Penis Parker." a new voice, once more, taunted. Stopping in his tracks, Peter swallowed dryly. Ned's excitement vanished from sight as he and Michelle glanced at each other.

"Flash," MJ greeted slowly, her voice filled with caution and danger. "Come on, Peter." she ordered, taking Peter's arm and trying to drag him down the hallways. They were already going to be a bit late as it is, and being stopped and harassed by that idiot was going to make them even more late.

"Yeah, go run along to your little girlfriend, Parker." Flashed laughed, his goons laughing as well. Parker's cheeks flashed with heat as Ned helped Michelle drag him away towards their maths class -- one of the only classes they all have together.

"You should really stop letting him get to you, Peter." Michelle spoke sadly. Ned nodded his head.

"I agree with MJ. He's a dick and is just looking for attention. Besides, we both know you can kick his ass any day."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that. And he can't know that, either." Peter frowned. Walking into the classroom, the three took their designated seats towards the back. Ned to the right of Peter, and MJ to the left of Peter -- just like they did last year. Except, Flash was also in this class, so it made Peter feel a hundred times more stressed.

A woman then walked into the classroom, breaking Peter's thoughts. The woman had brown, greying hair and round glasses. Ignoring the class, she placed down her bag and turned around her to pick up a stray piece of chalk and began to write on the board. It was some kind of equation that Peter was sure they would be learning.

"My name is Mrs Murphy and I will be your new math teacher this year. If you would please--"

After maths, it was science, and after that, it was lunch, then English and history. And finally, gym. Groaning, Peter departed from MJ and walked into the boys locker room with Ned. They were around three minutes early, so they knew Flash was not here yet. Quickly running to his locker, quite literally, Peter took out his gym clothes and ran off into shower area, getting dressed with what little privacy he had. Since he got his new powers, he is a lot more quick than he used to be. 

Not less than a minute, and Parker is out of the showers fully dressed, and walking back to place his regular clothes in his locker. "Damn," Ned muttered under his breath. "You really are quick." Blushing with embarrassment, Peter shrugged as he shut the locker door and waited patiently for Leeds. Once the two were completely dressed, they made their way to the gymnasium.

Michelle, somehow, was already dressed and sitting on the first row of bleachers. "Hey, losers." she greeted, nodding her head from where she was reading her book. It was a miracle that you could catch her without the thing. Parker and Leeds walked over to Jones and sat down beside her, waiting for their coach to begin talking.

After what seemed like forever, their coach finally walked inside, along side Flash. "Alright, line up!" Coach Jacoby shouted, clapping his hands as the students jogged to the line that went around the gymnasium. Stepping in front of his students, with Flash by his side, Coach Jacoby clapped his hands. "As you may not know, my name's Coach Jacoby and I'll be your gym teacher this year. And each year, I like to pick one of the best gym students to help me and stay by my side."

"Oh no," Parker whispered with sudden realization.

"Oh, yes." Flash smiled evilly at the teen.

"This year," the coach went on, seemingly missing the whole exchange, "My helper will be none other than Flash Thompson." Peter, and half of the other students, held back a groan. This was going to be hell.

"Now, Flash," Jacoby turned to the student who seemed like he refused to leave his side, "Please repeat what I have told you outside, and explain the rules for those who don't know, while I get the materials." he smiled a thin line down at the boy before walking off towards the supply closet, opposite end of the gym.

Grinning mischievously, Flash clapped his hands and looked around the students that were lined up against their own free will. "You know what time it is, bitches." he spoke once the coach was out of hearing distance. "Dodge ball time."

Peter heard Ned's breath hitch when those words were spoken, as well as his own. Even though he was Spider-Man, and could own the whole school, nobody else here knew that (except for MJ and Ned, of course). "You know the drill," Flash talked once more, his annoying voice almost echoing in the loud gym. Clapping his hands together for dramatic effect, Flash turned his back and began to walk towards the center. Looking over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow. Jumping up with fright, the class followed after him towards the middle -- Peter, Ned, and Michelle following them slowly in the back.

One by one, all of Peter's classmates soon began to walk to one side or the other. Ned was to the left, Michelle to the right, and a bunch others mixed in between. Soon, it was just Flash and Peter in the middle. Everyone stared at them, waiting for the upcoming snarky remark or fist thrown. "And finally," Flash smiled as he saw their teacher coming back with a sack of different coloured balls. "Penis Parker to the left. "Or wait, shouldn't you be on the girls team?"

Choosing to be the bigger man, Parker turned on his heel and walked over towards his anxious best friend. "As you can see, Flash," Parker spoke as he made his way towards Leeds, "Both teams are evenly distributed with both females, males, both, and neither. So, if you could please stop being so sexist, it would be greatly appreciated." Cheeks turning crimson, Flash scoffed and walked off, going to help Jacoby set up the game.

Once the balls were all aligned on the thin, black line running down the middle of the gym, Flash walked over to the right side and bent down into a running pose. And just like that, all hell broke loose.

Jacoby blew the whistle. Flash ran for the balls, picking up a good handful. People from Peter's team got some too, but, a lot of them were nearly decapitated when some were thrown at them. Ned and Peter somehow managed to get a few stray ones, coincidentally picking up one red an one blue. "Well, isn't this ironic." Parker joked towards his friend, grinning a toothy grin. Ned rolled his eyes, huffing a laugh or two.

Turning back ahead, Peter gasped as he realized it was only down to Ned, Peter, and Flash. "Holy shit." he muttered, eyes wide. "The hell?" Ned's reaction was the same, eyes widening with a gasp as well. Flash just smirked, tossing his ball up in the air before catching it. Repeating the motions, both boys began to feel sick. "Oh, shit.." Parker whispered as his Spider Senses tingled dangerously. Soon, the ball that was being tossed by Flash was now hurdling towards Ned, hitting him hard in the stomach. Gasping, Ned feel to the ground with a loud whimper. "Jesus!" Peter nearly screamed.

Laughs echoed around the gym, mostly from Flash's team (who were now seating on the sidelines, probably due to Thompson's request -- because there was no way that Peter's team took them all down). Jacoby, however, was paying no bit of attention, to entranced in a sports magazine. "Any last words, Penis Parker?" Flash taunted.

Oh, how Peter wanted to hurt that sonofabitch back. But, that would reveal his powers, and that was a big no-no. Sighing, Peter's ball dropped out of his hand, hitting the floor with an echoing thump. Turning to the side, Peter curled up into himself, awaiting the expecting pang of pain. A sharp pain took into his side, nearly sending him backwards (and if it wasn't for his stickiness, it would have).

Just as the ball hit Peter, the school bell rang, signalling school was over. Standing back up straight, with his hand on his side, Peter watched as Flash highfived his goons, people cheering him on like he was the king -- which, he was far from.

Sighing, Jacoby stood up and dismissed the group, going back to the middle and picking up the strewed balls. Ned walked over to him with an apologetic look on his face. "Oh, don't give me that, shit, Ned. You know I could beat him any day." Peter mumbled under his breath, huffing as he tried to discreetly adjust his binder.

See, he was finally allowed to wear it, only because Natasha knew that him not wearing it at school would be 'suicide' for him. So when Flash threw the purple ball, it knocked his binder to the side, making it almost impossibly tighter on his chest. He was still a bit sore from the wounds, but, he was dealing with it. That is, until he gets a new binder. This one was almost a couple sizes too small.

"Parker!" Coach Jacoby shouted. Turning around, Peter saw the couch summoning him.

Huffing, Peter apologized to his friend. "Go. I'll text you later, okay?" Nodding his head, Ned retreated sadly to the gym rooms, saying a quick goodbye. Pulling on his shirt, Peter walked over towards the coach who was watching Flash walk around the room, a bag in one hand as he bent down and put the balls back up -- repeating this motion over and over again. "You wanted to see me, coach?"

"Ah," he said, turning his attention back to Peter. "Peter," he talked, looking through the papers on his clipboard that he carried around. "I've been looking at the students grades for gym, and I've noticed, that from last year, that you're falling a bit behind, both grade wise, and physically." Peter sighed, so this was what he wanted to talk about. And here he thought it was something important. Though he thought those thoughts, Parker showed no sign of emotions, nor, change.

"So, I thought that you were one of the slacker kids, so I pulled up your grades for your other classes from last year. And, to be completely honest, they're amazing. Perfect straight A's all around." he said with shock, looking towards the small student. "And it looks like you're in okay shape, so... what's the deal?"

Peter sighed, rubbing the his hand over the back of his neck. "I, uh, just guess I'm not one for sports, you know?" Jacoby raised his eyes before sighing as well.

"Well, kid, work harder. This would put a damper on your college application. Now, go home. It's been a busy day." Nodding, Peter retreated back to the boys locker room, noticing it was empty. Well, all except for one person. 

"Well, well, well, if it isn't loser number one." Flash teased. Peter, for the umpteenth time today, sighed.

"Leave me alone, Flash." Peter pleaded as he walked to his locker. As he was in the middle of undoing his lock, Flash turned him around and pinned him to the locker.

"What was that? You're voice is so high I couldn't hear you."

"I said," Parker spoke louder this time, knowing full good and well that Thompson heard him the first time. "Leave me alone."

"Yeah, not gonna do that." 

SMACK!

Peter gasped as the air was knocked out of him. Smiling like a sadist, Thompson did it again, and then again. Over and over, he punched Peter in the gut, then in the chest, almost knowing exactly where it all hurt.

Sliding down towards the ground, Peter restrained himself from fighting back. Sure, it didn't hurt that much, but over his wounds, that shit hurt. Ignoring Parker's slide, Thompson stopped hitting his stomach and chest, and moved onto kicking himself in stead. All of his stomach, a footprint marked him. Curling onto his side, a few tears prickled his eyes. It hurt.

Seeing this, Flash only laughed louder and continued to kick everywhere. His legs, his stomach, chest, arms, face. Whimpering out, Peter tried his best to restrain himself. His Spidey Senses were tingling, telling him to move. To run. But Peter knew he couldn't do that.

After about fifteen minutes, Flash finally gave up. Spitting on Peter, he then marched out of the locker room and to somewhere else than there. Those few tears that were threatening to fall were already falling, and soon, it became a sob.

Hobbling up, Peter winced and moaned as he opened his locker, quickly changed clothes out in the open (knowing no one else would be near), placed his closed in the locker, and sat down against the locker doors. Doing a quick examination over himself, Peter concluded that he had a few broken ribs, a sprained ankle, severe bruising, and possibly a concussion. He also knew, from the mirror on his locker door, that he had a bloody nose, a bad bruised eye, and cuts all over his face and cheeks. Plus, his other wounds from his binder on top of it.

 He knew he couldn't move on his own, it hurt to much. So, he called the one person he could trust. 

Natasha.

"Nat?" he questioned, his voice trembling as he tried to calm his sobs. 

"Peter?" she asked, "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I-I need help.. please.." he cried through the phone. It was getting harder and harder to breath.

"Peter," Natasha spoke, her voice filled with worry, "Peter, honey, where are you? Are you still at school?"

Peter nodded his head, mumbling out a small "Y-yes.."

With that, Natasha hung up. Less than ten minutes and Natasha arrived with a murderous, yet, worried, expression on her face. Clint was right by her side as well, shock and anger on his face at the sight of the young teen. "What the fuck?!" he nearly shouted, causing Peter to flinch even more at the loud noise.

"Peter," she spoke as she bent down next to the boy. "What the hell happened?"

But Peter couldn't answer, his vision was fading and the voices that were once so close became farther and farther away. "Peter? Peter?" once again, no reply. "Damn it." she cursed, looking over her shoulder. 

"Clint, call Bruce and tell him that we're bringing someone in who is seriously injured and needs medical attention right away. Don't let them know it's Peter -- and do not let Bruce tell Tony."

And though Peter could heal quickly, it didn't mean that it didn't hurt.  

Chapter Text

"Clint," Natasha ordered, her face cold as she looked over at her best friend. She had just gotten off the phone with Peter, and to say that she wasn't worried would be a complete and utter lie. "Come on -- now." 

Confused, Clint obliged and the two ran (literally) towards the garage. Getting in one of the cars, Natasha grabbed the keys, turned the car on, and flew out of their like a bat from hell. "Nat, what's going on?" Clint questioned finally, not liking how he was often left out of stuff, such as conversations and important things -- like this. Though, when he was with Natasha, that rarely ever happened.

The auburn hair assassin gripped the steering wheel as she turned right, pulling up to a high school. "It's Peter." she spoke. Barton's breath hitched. It would have to seriously bad for Natasha to get this worked up. 

"Shit." was all Clint replied as the car turned off. The two jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind them. Running up the stairs, the pair received strange looks from the passerby students. Some of them gasped and pointed out who they really were (Black Widow and Hawkeye). It was surprising, to say the least, seeing they were in casual clothing. Before they had received the panicked call, the two had been lounging in Clint's room, both reading their own books. They enjoyed their small, quiet time together, for they could hardly ever be alone at some points.

Running into the school, the lady at the desk tried to stop them, but gave up when she noticed who they were. Pulling out a list of Peter's classes (that she had secretly made a copy of in case of an emergency, like this one). Scanning through all the possible classes, there was only one that Peter could be in. The gym.

Taking off, with Clint trailing behind her, the two rushed by students, one again ignoring the loud gossip. Entering the gymnasium to find it empty, Clint ran a hand through his hair. "What about the locker room?"

Nearly hugging the man right then and there, Natasha nodded her head swiftly before taking off, once more, towards the boys locker room.

When entering the boys locker room, Natasha stopped dead in her tracks. Clint was right by her side as well, shock and anger on his face at the sight of the young teen. "What the fuck?!" he nearly shouted, causing Peter to flinch even more at the loud noise.

"Peter," she spoke as she bent down next to the boy. "What the hell happened?"

But Peter couldn't answer, his vision was fading and the voices that were once so close became farther and farther away. "Peter? Peter?" once again, no reply. "Damn it." she cursed, looking over her shoulder.

"Clint, call Bruce and tell him that we're bringing someone in who is seriously injured and needs medical attention right away. Don't let them know it's Peter -- and do not let Bruce tell Tony."

Nodding his head, Clint reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, fumbling with it as he pressed the call button besides Bruce's contact. Not a few rings later, the man answered. "Hello?"

"Bruce, I need you to get the lab ready. We're bringing in someone who needs medical attention straight away -- and for the love of god, do not let Stark know." Clint repeated.

"Got it--" Bruce spoke, his voice filled with concern for the 'unknown' person. With that, Clint hung up the phone, stuffed it in his pocket, and ran over to Natasha and the unconscious boy. 

"What the hell happened, Nat?!" Clint whisper shouted as he looked at the bloody, bruised boy collapsed on the ground. Natasha shook her head.

"I don't know." She spoke, her voice shaking.

With that, the two Avenger's picked up the boy carefully and began to walk back to the car in a hurry. "But whoever it was, will have to answer to me, personally."

"You really like that kid, huh?" 

Romanoff huffed, opening the boys' locker room door. Once out completely, she let go of the door, letting it shut on its own. "Now is not the time, Clint. We need to get Peter to Bruce ASAP -- with out letting any of the others see him in this state."

Readjusting his grip on Parker, Barton walked quickly along side Romanoff, Peter in between them. Entering the main hall (which was still crowded with students), gasps rang out.

"Is that Parker?"

"I think it is!"

"Who would do such a thing?"

"Are those the Avengers?!"

Forcing herself to not make a remark to the crowd, the two continued to lift Peter to the car.

Softly laying him down in the backseat, the young teen grunted in pain, though he was still unconscious. Closing the doors, on both sides, the two superheroes leaped into the front, and drove off to the Tower.

Not five minutes later and Natasha had parked the car and started to help Barton with grabbing Peter. Once more, a grunt escaped the boys mouth. Taking the back entrance, the three rode up in the elevator, and as the door opened, Nat cursed under her breath.

"What the hell?!" Wanda nearly shrieked as she noticed the boy in their arms.

"Wanda -- Wanda!" Clint called, snapping the female out of her panicking thoughts. "Please be quiet. We can't let Tony find out about this -- at least, not yet."

"About what?" a familiar male voice commented as he started to walk towards the elevator. The trio's eyes widened.

"Wanda, please!" Natasha whisper shouted to the other female. Gulping, Wanda spun around to face Tony.

"H-Hey, Tony.." she stuttered out, blocking the view of the elevator (that currently held the others).

"Hey, uh, Wanda?" Tony answered back in more of a question. "What's going on? What can't I find out?"

Wanda's eyes widened and her throat began to close up slightly. "Oh, uh, nothing! Nothing! Just, uh, a gift is all.."

Stark squinted his eyes, "But my birthday isn't until next year..? Come on, Wanda, tell me already!" he whined, trying to look over at the elevator.

"Tony n-no! D-don't make me do this!" Wanda begged.

"Do what?" he questioned as he turned back to trying to peak inside. "This is my building and I deserve to know what's going on."

"Tony--"

"Move."

"I'm so, so sorry," Wanda apologized.

"For what?" the totally clueless Tony Stark questioned, tilting his head to the right. Not even hesitating, Wanda Maximoff brought up her fist and punched Stark straight in the face. Flying backwards, the male hit his head on the ground and slipped off into a soft sleep.

"What the hell, Wanda?" Clint laughed, looking at the girl with an amused expression.

"I-I, uh, I had t-to stop him --- and he wouldn't l-listen!" the Scarlet witch mumbled, an apologetic expression on her face. "I-I didn't think I hit him that hard.."

Natasha rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face, "Thank you, Wanda. Really. Let's keep this between us, alright?" Nodding her head, the witch watched as Clint and Natasha ran off into the lab with a, still, comatose Peter Parker.

"Bruce, open up!" Natasha roared, pounding on the lab door. In a flash, the door to the lab was wide opened, with an equally wide eyed Banner.

"Holy shit, that's --- that's Peter!" he exclaimed as the two rushed into the room and sat the young teenage superhero onto the examining table. Once he was out of their arms, Barton rushed to close the door, locking it for extra manners, while Natasha ran a hand through her wavy, short hair.

"Bruce," Natasha spoke softly, trying to calm down the doctor. She knew that if he got to angry over this whole situation, or panicked for that matter, that it wouldn't be Banner anymore. It would be the other guy -- and that would be a big problem. "I need you to listen, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Bruce nodded his head, looking up at the assassins. "Peter got hurt at school -- badly. We need you to stable yourself so Peter can get the correct attention that he needs. An ordinary hospital is out of the question, seeing he has superpowers, and that would draw way to much attention." Nodding along, the doctor slipped on his lab coat and pulled out some materials that Clint didn't know the name of. "And please, Bruce, Stark cannot find out about this. Not yet."

"The last thing we need is an emotional, angry Iron Man flying around and threatening each student with death until one of them cough up." Clint added, crossing his arms over his chest as he and Natasha watched from a slight distance.

Checking over Peter's every injury, Bruce began to slowly lift up the boys shirt. "Stop." Natasha ordered the male. Instantly, Bruce retracted his hand, dropping the shirt in the process. "There's something you should know before you do this -- the both of you." she sighed. Peter was going to hate her later, but Bruce needed to know -- to help Peter -- and Natasha would do anything to help Peter.

"But first, you have to swear that you will keep this secret; and the one I'm about to tell you. If you don't, you will be on my list of people that I will personally hurt, got that?" the two gulped and nodded their heads, eyes widened slightly at the change of tone in Romanoff's demeanor. "And if any of disagree with what I'm about to tell you, and/or treat Peter differently after this, you are not welcomed here anymore, and no longer will be considered my family."

"Nat, what's wrong?" Clint questioned, his eyes feeling with even more worry at the way she was wording things. "What's wrong with Peter?"

"Peter is," Romanoff sighed, "Peter is trans. Meaning that --"

"-- He was female at birth but identifies as a male." Banner answered, nodding his head. Clint, as well, bobbed his head, understanding the situation a little better now. 

"If you think that we would treat him any different than before, you would be stupidly wrong. We wouldn't treat Peter different because of who was before. This is the Peter we know now, not the old him. He's apart of the Avengers -- he's our family." Clint said seriously, looking his partner in the eyes.

"I agree." Banner chimed in, as he looked up at Natasha sincerely. "Peter is family, and family shouldn't judge a person for being who they are -- and it would make him no less of a man to have a chest."

With that, the auburn haired girl dipped her head with a small smile on her face, signalling that the doctor could continue. Nodding his head, Bruce slowly began to lift the shirt off of the comatose teen. Clint's eyes landed upon his torn up binder. "Jesus, and he wears that everyday?" he questioned towards Natasha.

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair -- a nervous habit she picked up from Peter from the time they have spent together. "Unfortunately. I need to get him a new one, but I don't know his size."

Banner zoned out slightly at the conversation, focusing on dealing with his patient. "Nat," he suddenly called. Snapping her back towards Banner, she raised an eyebrow. "I-I can't get this binder off without hurting him even more. It's, like, three sizes too small. If I even tried it would put him in even more pain. The only way to do it would to be is to --"

"-- Cut it." Natasha ordered without a second thought. It was time he got a new one anyways.

"Are you sure?" Bruce questioned. "Once I cut it, it wouldn't even be able to be sewed back together -- it's in literal pieces!"

Once more, Natasha nodded her head. "If it will help Peter heal and get the treatment he needs, then yes -- anything."

Shuffling back to his desk, the doctor pulled out a pair of scissors and walked back to the brunette. Cautiously, the male begin to cut Peter's binder off of him. A smooth line cut down the center of the fabric, revealing his chest. The doctor looked down with wide eyes. "Holy shit," he muttered as he slipped the rest of the fabric off. Bruce was staring at Peter's chest. Glancing over, the other's widen their eyes.

Natasha, Clint, and Bruce felt like they were going to be sick.

His bruises were a profusion of colors that normally should not be on someones chest, let alone skin. There were lurid purple splotches, roughly the size of a foot, while others were more greyish -- but still looked just as bad. They were littered across his chest. It was hard to find a clear patch of skin that wasn't coloured. Dry blood was mixed in with the swollen mess, as if someone splattered paint of an empty canvas, Peter's body being the said canvas. Some of the bruises were older, but still just as bad.

Anger boiled up in all three of them, though Bruce tried to control his. He couldn't let the big guy out. Not yet, at least.

Clint's teeth were barred shut in such a way that it was surprising that his teeth didn't break.

Natasha, however, was the most pissed. Her heart rate increased ten folds as her mouth went dry. Her jaw was clinched tightly and her muscles were tense. Her hands, that were now by her side, were balled into tight fists, her fingernails digging into her palms as they shook with anger.

Oh, there was going to be hell to pay.

Chapter Text

Empty.

That's what Peter felt.

Looking around, he found himself standing in a white space in nothing but what seemed to be a hospital gown. It felt like he was waiting for something, but he didn't know what.

Where was he, anyways? He would think as he glanced around the pure white room.

"Hello?" Peter tried to call out, his voice echoing around the white space, bouncing off one side to the next. "Is anyone there?" he tried again, his head whipping around to find someone -- something. But there was nothing -- no one.

"This isn't funny anymore," Peter tried once more, calling out to the space that was around him.

"Hello," a female voice spoke. Spinning around, Peter came face to face with two taller women.

"Where am I?" Peter questioned, his eyes weary as the two women exchanged a look. "Who are you two?"

The woman with the long, black robes spoke first. She had long, dark hair, but the top of her face was covered with the hood of her robe. "I am the Angel of the Dead, or as you may know, Death," the woman spoke with softness. The woman beside of her, stepped forwards. 

Peter's attention immediately switched to her. Half of her body was a soft, pale, holding all the features of the most beautiful woman, while the other half was rotting and skeletal bones growing on the outside of her body. Long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders, her one blue eye shining brilliantly in the nonexistent light. "And I and Hel, the Goddess of Death." she spoke, her voice also gentle. It sent shivers down Peter's spine.

"There is no reason to feel uneasy, child. We are no threat." Death spoke, reassuring Peter.

"Where am I?" Peter spoke, his voice trembling the slightest.

"You are between worlds, dear child. Between Valhalla, Helheim, and Midgard. We are here to greet you and await your decision." Death spoke, her posture straight and upright as she looked down at the smaller boy.

"Await what decision?" Peter repeated once more.

Hel seemed to sigh. "To see what world you choose to travel towards. My father has heard good stories about you, thus, we are here to await your choice."

"W-Whose your father?" Peter questioned, yet again, towards the Goddess of Death.

"My father does not really concern this subject, but if you would like to know, I shall tell you, dear mortal. My father is Loki, the god of mischief." Peter's eyes widen. "My father has heard good stories about you, from his brother who watches over the so called 'Avengers'. Come to think of it, I'm not sure you have met him yet." Peter shook his head, his throat running dry. His heart began to beat faster and faster, sweat droplets appearing on his forehead.

"Wh-What are the choices again..?"

This time, Death spoke up. "Right now, we are between worlds. There are three different paths you can choose. You can choose to go back to Midgard, or, you can travel towards either Valhalla or Helheim." Peter's eyebrows scrunched together. This time, Hel sighed louder.

"Valhalla is a special place, and most often not a choice for many mortals. Those that inhabit the halls after death were great warriors in life. They await there until they are called to fight by Odin’s side in the battle of Ragnarok. The Valkyries help pick the heroic warriors from amongst the dead, known as ‘Choosers of the Fallen’, allowing those deemed worthy enough to pass on to the sacred halls of Odin. And you, mortal, are deemed worthy. However, if you choose to travel to Valhalla, you will automatically be accepted for the battle of Ragnarok." Hel explained.

"But," Death spoke, "If you choose to travel towards Helheim, you will be greeted with eternal peace. If you choose Helheim, Hel will take you there herself, seeing she is the ruler of that realm. While if you choose Valhalla, I will take you to the gates, but I could not enter, seeing I am not deemed worthy enough for battle." she spoke sadly towards the end. Hel gave the woman a sad smile, sharing the unknown feeling.

"What if I want to go back to Ear -- Midgard?" Peter asked, looking up with a confused face. "Why do I have a choice?"

"You have a choice for a special reason, young child. But, do to The Fates, I am not able to say. The main reason, however, is that you are an important person, so to speak. And do to requested from Odin himself, you will have a choice -- as well as any of the other Avengers." Death answered patiently.

Peter nodded his head. "Please," Hel talked, "Take your time. This is, after all, a big decision. One that you cannot take back."

Once more, Peter bobbed his head. If he went to Helheim, he wouldn't have to deal with any of the pain and constant depression. But if he went to Valhalla, he would be apart of an even bigger picture, more than he is now, apparently. "Maybe this will help," Hel said. Looking up, Parker saw the Goddess wave her hand. Appearing out of thin air, was a ripple of scenery.

It was back at the Avenger Tower, well, one of the copious rooms -- Bruce's lab, to be exact. Parker was laying down on one of the hospital beds, in a comatose state. IV's were plugged into his arm, as well as a nasal cannula. Natasha was sitting by his bed side, holding his limp, cold hand. Worry and concern filled her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, as though she had been crying. Her face was pale, and her short, auburn hair was tied back in a small pony tail, though a few pieces fell in her face.

To her side was Clint, who held Romanoff's other hand -- an equally worrying expression upon his face. On the opposite side of Peter was Dr Banner, a frown etched into his skin. Worry lines marked his forehead as he silently pleaded for Peter to wake up.

Peter's heart broke. "Why are you showing me this?" he inquired, looking away from the image to look at the two.

"I am afraid, this isn't your time." Hel addressed. "You shall not die yet, this isn't the time you shall travel away from Midgard."

"Then why are you even showing me this?"

"Because," Death empathized, "We cannot send you back to Midgard without your permission, or we would have already done it the second you appeared here."  Nodding his head, Peter stared at the ripple of scenery in front of him, his heart shattering into tiny, microscopic pieces by every millisecond.

With that, Peter knew what he had to choose.

A dull beeping sound echoed through the room -- annoying the absolute hell out of Peter. But besides that, it was quite silent. Too silent.

The room that he was in smelt way different from his bedroom. The one at the Avenger's Tower smelt of lemon's and the fresh smell of a new book. This room, however, smelt of faint chemicals. The air, as well, was quite different. It wasn't suffocating, but, it wasn't light either. 

Where the hell was he? Anxiety started to creep in as Peter tried to force his heavy eyelids open. But every time he tried, a strong pain fluttered through his head. Finally, on the fourth try, his eyes opened slightly. Immediately closing them, he mentally winced at the bright lights. Slowly reopening them, he let his eyes adjust to the drastic change of lights.

At first, his vision was blurry, but over time it became more clear. The pounding in his head still didn't leave, though.

Looking around, he found himself in a random room. Upon further inspection, Peter's anxiety went away completely when he noticed that it was in Bruce's lab. It appeared that he was the only one in the lab, well, accept for the person who was holding his hand. Looking down, he found Natasha sleeping peacefully. Her usual straight posture was now traded out for a slouch, as she laid her head on the side of Parker's bed, her hand gripping his tightly.

A small smile was placed on his lips as he looked at the assassin. Moving his finger the slightest, Peter held back a loud groan of pain, hoping to capture his friends attention. Romanoff, of course, didn't catch it, for it was barely there and she was sound asleep for what was probably the first time in a while. Closing his eyes tightly, Parker breathed. Moving his finger once more, he felt Natasha go stiff.

Sitting up in a flash, she looked at the boy with wide, somewhat tear filled, eyes. "Peter?" she questioned in a whisper. She had to check, this could have been one of her dreams again where Peter was up and healthy and happy. Not taking up the courage to speak, Peter only nodded slowly, even more pain rushing through his body at the movements. Natasha smiled, a small tear rolling down her cheek as she gently pulled the young teenager into a hug.

Sure, it hurt like hell, but at that moment, Peter could have cared less. His mind fluttered back to the conversation that he had with Death and Hel, and he sighed gratefully.

He made the right choice.

Chapter Text

That's when it hit him. Why was he in different clothes? He was in his school clothes before, wasn't he? And where was his binder? Why wasn't he wearin -- Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no.

They know.

They know.

Peter went into panic mode. 

Why was it getting harder to breathe?

What was that noise?

Who was calling his nam--

"Peter," Natasha tried once more, her short auburn hair still tied up sloppily, whilst Peter's was sticking to his face in bunches. "Peter, breathe -- you have to breathe, Peter."

But breathing was hard?

Gasping. Peter was gasping for air -- that's what he was doing. But the air seemed to burn his throat.

Peter began to feel wave after wave of fear and his stomach almost gave out on him. He could hear his heart pounding so loudly he thought it would come out of his chest, exploding like in that one movie he watched with Ned and MJ. Pains were shooting down his body as he became so afraid he couldn't catch his breath. 

What was happening to him?

Was he having a heart attack?

Was he dying?

Was h --

"Peter," Natasha spoke loudly, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Breathe, try to breathe. Please, Peter, try to. For me."

Tears tracked down his face as he gasped for air once more, his body shaking as he did so. "In and out, in and out," her voice reminded him. Following instructions, Peter tried to breathe once more.

In -- and out.

Natasha noticed that Peter's monitors started to calm down as the teen began to gain control of his oxygen intake. Closing her eyes, Natasha breathed in her self. "Just like that." she encouraged.

Though Peter's breathing evened out, tears still fell from his eyes and onto the shirt he was wearing (which happened to be Wade's shirt that he was gifted). "They k-know.." was all Peter could say, and even those words burned his throat. Natasha nodded stiffly, sadness in her eyes. Another stray tear rolled down Peter's cheek. Frowning softly, Romanoff reached up and wiped the tear away with her thumb as she caressed the young boys cheek.

"Peter," she spoke, "I need you to listen to me, alright?" Peter nodded slowly, sending a small wave of pain through his body. "Only Bruce and Clint know, and they will not tell anyone, okay? I made them swear to it -- and they don't think differently of you, either. They still love you and consider you family."

Parker sniffed, trying his best to blink away tears. "W-who changed my cl-clothes..? A-And where's my binder?" Natasha winced visibly.

"I changed your clothes, so I hope you don't mind. That pair of pajamas were the first ones I saw -- plus they're your favourite, aren't they? You were them constantly." she raised an eyebrow at the faded shirt and pants. "As for your binder, that godforsaken thing is in the trash -- where it belongs."

Peter's eyes widen. Oh shi-- "But don't worry. While you were asleep, I sent Clint and Bruce on a trip to the store to get you another. I would have gone, but I didn't want you to wake up while I was out." Peter took another shallow(ish) breath, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Why--" Peter's voice cracked. Damn, it was time for his shot. Clearing his throat, a blush on his cheeks, he restarted his sentence. "Why did you send the both of them?" 

Natasha laughed -- not at his voice crack, but at the question. "Because I sure as hell don't trust Barton going by himself. I sent Banner to parent over him and all, but now that I'm thinking about it, Clint's probably already convinced Bruce to do something idiotic -- turning him to his dark and sinister ways."

"Come on, Brucie, please!" Clint whined, pouting his lip as he gave the man his best puppy dog eyes. He's been begging for exactly five minutes and twenty three seconds.

Currently, they were at a special store -- that Clint has now forgotten the name of -- trying to find  Peter a binder that fit, using the measurements Nat gave them. "For the last time, Clint, no." Banner huffed, crossing his arms to show the Avengers that he was serious.

"Please, Bruce. Come on, man!"

Bruce caved in. "Oh my god -- fine, Clint! Just please, stop begging!" Grabbing the hanger from Clint's hands, the male stopped off into the dressing room, getting a quite strange look from the man behind the counter.

Barton clapped and followed after his friend. Standing outside the stall (that was occupied by Banner), he patiently waited, camera at the ready.

Not even three minutes later, Bruce spoke up, clear embarrassment in his voice. "I hate you."

Clint grinned an evil smile that would put Loki to shame. "You know you love me."

"Very unlikely." was the annoyed reply. "Why do they even make this kind of stuff anyways? What the hell?"

Barton rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut the hell up and come out already."

A loud sigh was heard from the other side of the door. Hitting record on his camera, Clint held back his laughter as the door opened to reveal a very embarrassed Bruce Banner.

"Does Mr Stark know?" Peter finally asked through their short lived silence.

"Know about what exactly?" the assassin questioned, tilting her head to the side. "About you being beaten up or who you really are?"

"Either really.."

Smiling a faint smile, Natasha reached over and held Parker's hand. "Peter, you're fine. He doesn't know -- yet. He will find out about you being beaten up, which you need to explain, by the way, but he won't find out about your secret -- not yet, that is. But," she sighed, a piece of her auburn hair falling in her face, "You do have to tell him soon. It's the best way. He won't get upset or disgusted with you," she reassured, answering the thought that was buzzing around in Peter's mind. "And if he is," her eyes darken, "then he is no longer someone I consider family."

Peter smiled a small smile. A single, happy tear fell from his eye as the Avenger was pulled into a soft, reassuring hug.

The two stayed like that for a while -- that is until Natasha's phone rang. Pulling away, Natasha pulled out her phone from her pocket. Looking at the caller ID, Natasha sighed heavily, knowing that she would not like what she was about to hear.

"What do you want, Barton?"

A nervous laugh echoed through the line. "We, uh, kinda need you to come and pick us up.."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows together, which Natasha shrugged at, confused as well.

"Where are you at?" Romanoff inquired, holding back a sigh.

"Uh, um, a, uh, holding cell?"

Natasha hung up the phone and looked at the ceiling in complete annoyance. "Oh, my god."

Looking down at Peter, the female sighed. "I gotta go pick up the boys. I will be back soon, okay?" Parker softly nodded. "If you need anything, call; that's a demand." Leaning down, Black Widow kissed the young teens forehead. Letting go of his hand, she grabbed her jacket and left the room, sending back one last smile before disappearing.

"I'm here to free Bruce Banner and Clint Barton." Natasha spoke to the woman behind the counter. Nodding her head, the lady started typing into her computer before standing up. Grabbing a set of keys, the woman led Romanoff to the holding cell.

"What are they in for?"

"You weren't aware?" the lady questioned with a thick southern accent. Romanoff shook her head as they neared the cell door. The lady laughed, shaking her head, as she opened the cell door to reveal two people.

Opening the door completely, Natasha nearly banged her head against the wall. "ты, черт возьми, издеваешься надо мной,"

Bruce shyly smiled, a blush forming on his cheeks as he was still in his ridiculously, half torn Black Widow styled lingerie that was torn near the buttocks and breasts padding. Clint, however, was almost in tears of laughter as he sat on the bench in but a pair of boxer briefs and socks.

"Turns out," the desk lady spoke, eyebrow raised. "They were caught fighting and tackling each other in the men's changing room yelling profanities over a video recorder -- which is prohibited in dressing rooms. They're both being charged for public nudity, assault and battery charge, as well as verbal abuse and threats."

Natasha rubbed the bridge of her nose. "On second thought, just leave them there."

"What -- Nat, wait!" Clint cried as the cell door was closed back. Natasha held up her middle finger as she retreated down the hallway.

On the same day, Bruce Banner and Clint Barton were put on trial in court. Five minutes into the session, Natasha reluctantly bailed them out; threatening to get Tony Stark on the judge's ass if he didn't let them go.

Chapter Text

It was only when Natasha left the room that he noticed his phone was buzzing crazily.

Holding his breath, Peter reached over to the small bedside table and grabbed his phone. Clicking the power button, his voice screen turned on displaying the time in bold, white letters. On the home screen revealed a prolific amount of alerts. There were around 13 text messages and thirty-five missed calls; half of them from a number he's never seen before.

Eyebrows knitting, he unlocked the device and went straight to the text messages. The first one he saw was from Ned.

The Guy In The Chair; hey,  ✓ sent, 3:00 p.m.

The Guy In The Chair; i kinda need some help with history... ✓ sent, 3:02 p.m.

The Guy In The Chair; everything alright? you're not patrolling again, are you? ✓ sent, 3:50 p.m.

The Guy In The Chair; i heard something from MJ, what the hell happened, dude? you alright? ✓ sent, 4:03 p.m.

The Guy In The Chair; im going to kick flash's ass ✓ sent, 4:10 p.m.  

Peter shook his head, a small smile forming on his face as he texted back. ''Hey, just woke up a bit ago. Flash found me in the locker room and took one of his anger issues out on me. Nothing too major. ✓ sent, 5:08 p.m.''

Exiting out of Ned's messages, Peter clicked on the next number, which happened to be MJ's.

Secret Keeper; what the actual fuck did Flash do this time? ✓ sent, 3:15 p.m.

Secret Keeper; how bad is the damage? You better not lie, either. I will know. ✓ sent, 3:22 p.m.

Secret Keeper; I don't understand why you choose not to stand up for yourself. Flash needs payback for what he does, Peter. ✓ sent, 3:24 p.m.

Parker sighed. Maybe she was right.. Pursing his lips, he texted exactly what he texted Ned. ''Hey, just woke up a bit ago. Flash found me in the locker room and took one of his anger issues out on me. Nothing too major. ✓ sent, 5:10 p.m.''  

Repeating the steps from last time, Peter clicked out of those messages and clicked the one from the unknown number.

Unknown; Peter, I read the last couple chapters -- the fuck is wrong with flash?? ✓ sent, 2:40 p.m.

Unknown; Shit, I didn't mean to curse ✓ sent, 2:40 p.m.

Unknown; ...dammit ✓ sent, 2:41 p.m.

'Who the hell is this person,' Peter thought with complete confusion.

Unknown; either way, im going to get revenge for hurting him that perfect ass of yours. ✓ sent, 2:41 p.m.

That's when it clicked.

Wade.

Peter; Wade? ✓ sent, 5:11 p.m.

{ Peter; Wade? ✓ read, 5:11 p.m. }

Unknown; SPIDEY!! Holy shiitake mushrooms, you're awake! ✓ read, 5:11 p.m.

Peter; I wasn't out that long... how the hell did you even get my number? ✓ read, 5:12 p.m.

Unknown; Ummm....... i know people.. ✓ read, 5:12 p.m.

unknown is typing...

"Oh my god," Peter closed his eyes a small laugh bubbling up inside of him. Before he texted back, Parker clicked on the small button in the top right corner, scrolled down, and hit add to contacts.

Wade; on another note, how are you feeling, Spidey? ✓ read, 5:12 p.m.

Peter; I'm okay. Nothing major, I guess.. ✓ read, 5:13 p.m.

Wade; don't you even dare trying to lie to me, Peter. ✓ read, 5:13 p.m.

Peter sighed as he stared at the text. Slowly, his fingers moved to type in a response. 'It... hurts.. A lot, really. It's almost like I can still feel Flash's kicks.. is that weird..? ✓ read, 5:13 p.m.'

Wade; not at all, spiderling. I wish I was there to stop him, though. What he did is totally not cool. ✓ read, 5:13 p.m.

Wade; Now it will be even longer before I see you again. ✓ read, 5:15 p.m.

Peter's heart fluttered. Why was his stomach suddenly twisting? There was a lump in his throat as he texted back. 'I mean, you could always stop by the tower... ✓ read, 5:16 p.m.'

wade is typing...  

Wade; Is that an offer, spidey? ✓ read, 5:16 p.m.'

Peter smiled as his fingers moved across the small screen once more. "I guess it is."

About an hour later, Wanda walked into the small room. Closing the door behind her, she looked at the younger boy with a small smile. "Hey, Peter," she greeted, her eyes slightly red and puffy -- like Natasha's had been. "How are you doing?"

Peter looked up to her, only now hearing her. Texting a goodbye to Ned and Wade, separately of course, he closed his phone and put it back on the bedside table. "Decent, I guess." Peter finally answered her.

Wanda sighed, sitting down in the chair Romanoff was sitting in previously. "I may not be as good at detecting lies like Natasha is, but I can tell when someone is lying majorly." Peter sighed, causing the female to frown deeply. "You can tell me, Peter.." she whispered softly.

But Peter couldn't. I mean, he wanted to, but his mouth just couldn't form the words. It was like his lips were glued together. Maximoff must have saw this, for she spoke up once more. "I could always see myself, if you don't want to talk about it..?" she offered, a magical red sprouting from her fingertips to show the younger. Slowly and unsure, Parker nodded his head, closing his eyes tightly. Nodding her head as well, Wanda slowly closed her eyes.

Memories soon began to appear through her mind.

Her mind was transported to a school locker room. Looking around, she found Peter standing at his locker in his gym clothes. Going to unlock the lock, a fist slammed next to his head. Jumping slightly, Peter gasped, nearly jumping to stick to the school roof.  "Well, well, well, if it isn't loser number one." Flash teased. Peter sighed.

"Leave me alone, Flash." he pleaded as he turned back to his locker. As he was in the middle of undoing his lock, Flash turned him around and pinned him to the locker.

"What was that? You're voice is so high I couldn't hear you."

"I said," Parker spoke louder this time, knowing full good and well that Thompson heard him the first time. "Leave me alone."

"Yeah, not gonna do that."

SMACK!

Wanda gasped aloud, at the following actions.

Before she knew it, Spider-Man was on the ground in pain, crying out as Flash laughed. Walking away, the older male slammed the locker room door shut.

Then, the scenery changed.

Peter was in the bathroom. His hands were on either side of the sink. In the background, the older television was playing. Peter tried to listen, but he just couldn't bring himself too.

"We are here at the Parker residence where some petty crime turned into something bigger." the news reporter spoke, though it all sounded muffled to the young boy. "An up and coming robber, still unknown by the police, had broken into the Parker residence. Later that night, a neighbor of the Parker's heard the sound of a gun shot and a strangled scream. Instantly, they called the police. When police arrived to the scene, Benjamin "Ben" Parker was found bleeding out on the living room floor in a pool of his own blood. Paramedics arrived, but not soon enough. Benjamin Parker did not survive."

A single tear ran down Peter's cheek, followed by another close by. A crackling sob made it's way out his throat, tears falling freely as he sobbed. Sliding down, Parker rested his back against the sink cabinets. Bringing his knees to his chest, the young boy curled in on himself.

"Currently, the only thing remaining of the crime is a single bloodied footprint. The police have yet to find the culprit. They have advised that you stay indoors and to make sure that all possible entry ways are closed, blocked, and locked. We're News Ten, and we wish you a good night."

Instantly, Wanda pulled away. Mouth agape, the female stared at the young boy who was teary eyed and panicking. "You weren't suppose to see that," he choked out, hands scrambling for his phone.

"Peter, I--"

"N-No.." he interrupted with a whisper. A single tear fell down his cheek. "No -- no.." he choked, out once more; this time, sounding more strangled. Just like Uncle Ben's scream had been.

"Peter --" the Witch tried again, but he shook his head. Gripping the edges of his sheets, the young boy sprang from the bed, completely ignoring the strong pain he was feeling because of said actions. "Peter!" Wanda tried, watching as he backed away from her and towards the door. "Peter, please! I didn't mean to go that far into your memories -- you have to believe me!"

But Peter was already gone.

Slamming his bedroom door, Peter pulled on his black hoodie that Uncle Ben had gotten him. "Mister Peter," a familiar, British voice spoke. "Your vitals are erratic, shall I contact someone for you?"

Peter shook his head, pulling the hood over him. "No," he ordered, his voice wavering. "I just need some -- some time. Could...Could you open the window, Jarvis?"

The AI was reluctant, but did what he was asked. "As you wish." Opening the window, the young teen retreated down the side of the tall tower.

"Thank you."

His body ached everywhere. His arms. His legs. His chest. His head -- everywhere. At the moment, Peter was stationed on one of his go to rooftops -- the one Deadpool and him always seemed to meet at.

Pulling out his phone with shaky hands, Parker called the one person he knew he could trust.

"Hello?"

"W-Wade.. do you mind if I swing by?"

Chapter Text

It was only a few (literal) minutes later when Deadpool heard a light knock on his living room window. Snapping his head, he walked over towards it to find Peter bruised and out of breath. "Peter -- shit!" he cursed as he helped the weak teen in through the window.

{Oh, Imma bout to beat someone's ass}

[For once, I agree with Yellow]

{ *Gasp* }

"Peter," Wade spoke, ignoring the boxes, as he helped the boy to the couch, sweat shining from his forehead as his breath became ragged. "What the hell? Shouldn't you be getting fixed up by doctor Hulk?" Parker pulled down his hood, suddenly getting too hot in the thick material. Wade took a sharp intake of air, eyes widening to the size of saucers.

Too put it nicely, Peter looked like shit. Like, literal shit. Cuts and dark contusions scattered his face. The bags under his eyes were so dark they could carry next weeks groceries, let alone the one that had a black eye. Dry blood stuck to his face, especially under his nose. He more of likely had a nosebleed on his way over here. His chest heaved in a weird way, and Wade deduced he probably had a couple of broken ribs, and with the way he kept shifting off of his foot, a sprained ankle as well.

"I --" Peter gasped, coughing up a small amount of blood into his hand. "B-Ben -- mem--ries!" he choked out, tears streaming down his face as a panic attack tried to set in.

[Do something, asshat!]

{Yeah, what he said!}

Deadpool sprung into action. Hightailing himself into the bathroom, Wade grabbed the first aid kit, towels, washrags (both wet and dry), and ran back into the living room. Dumping the pile of things onto the coffee table in front of him, Wade sprinted into the kitchen. Opening the door, he grabbed a bottle of water. Setting that down to the side, he grabbed a bubblegum pink bowel from the cabinet above him and filled it up with water. Picking up both items, he (speed) walked back into the area Parker was in.

"Spidey, I'm going to have to take off your shirts. I'm sure Brucie fixed you up real nice, but you swinging over here," he pointed towards the web shooters that were hooked to his wrists, "worsened it all up."

Once more, Peter panicked. Eyes widening, he shook his head violently, holding back yells of pain. "Peter." Wade spoke softly, a hand placed on his cheek. Jumping slightly from the touch, the younger looked up to him with wide, fearful eyes. "I'm not -- you know I'm not going to hurt you. Nor will I judge you, baby boy. But I have to do this. You're hurt, and Me and Co. will feel fucking awful if we don't do everything in our power to help you." Wade's thumb softly ran over the bumps and cuts that were stationed on the boys face, his denim like eyes staring down at him softly, filled with an emotion that Peter doesn't know.

Slowly, he nodded his head. "A-alright.." he whispered out, barely audible. Wade wouldn't have heard him if it wasn't for White snapping at him to start cleaning him up.

"Thank you." Slowly moving Peter to where he was laying down on the couch, the mercenary placed his hands at the hem of Spider-Man's shirts. Looking up, the merc saw Parker chewing his bottom lip, drawing the tiniest bit of blood. Lifting his shirt up, he saw that Peter wasn't wearing his binder, let alone a bra. This was going to be way easier then.

Sliding the shirt all the way up to the teens collarbone, Wade frowned at the sight.

[All in favor of killing that bastard, say aye.]

{Aye, aye, captain}

Wilson grumbled a soft 'aye' under his breath as he leaned over and grabbed one of the wet washrags. Dipping it into the pink bowl, he began to slowly wash the wounds. At this point, he couldn't tell if some of them were from Dash (Rash -- whoever), or if they were from Peter's old binder. Peter jerked when the cloth ran over the now-opened stitches.

Once most of the dry blood was washed away, Deadpool placed the rag into the bowl of water, watching the once clear liquid changing to a shade of red. Turning to the side, Wilson opened the first aid kit with ease, shuffling the items inside before he pulled out a thin needle that was already pre-threaded. He also pulled out a small packet that contained an antiseptic wipe.

Placing the needle and thread on his lap, the mercenary opened the packet and took out the wipe with his clothed hands. Facing Parker, Wade carefully cleaned the opened cuts, which earned a wince from the younger. "I'm sorry, baby boy.." he whispered under his breath. Peter's heart thumped against his rib cage, his eyes shut tightly as Wade picked up the needle. "I really wish I didn't have to do this."

Quickly, Deadpool stitched the male together, tying the not, and wound, close. Setting down the used needle, Wade grasped the wet rag again and dabbed it across the re-sewn area. Peter, once more, hissed loudly as he gripped the back of the couch, tears clouding his tightly shut eyes. Wade frowned, hating to see his Spidey in pain.

[You say that like we own him.]

{Oh, shut your mouth, White. We're dating, he just doesn't know it yet!}

[That's actually quite creepy, ya know.]

Wilson rolled his eyes at the conversation his 'boxes' were having and reached across the table to pick up a crêpe rolled bandage. Opening it, he carefully wrapped the cream coloured bandage around Peter's midsection, right where the gnash was.

Once that was done, Wade moved onto his ankle. Taking another rolled covering, the older wrapped it around his ankle tightly, making sure to have a good amount of pressure to it. Now wrapped, Wade pulled down Peter's shirts and scooted up the couch. Taking a clean washcloth, Wade poured some of the water from the bottle onto it, making it damp.

With this, he carefully caressed Peter's face, causing his eyes to open softly. Quietly, he started to squirm. "It's okay, Petey, 'm not gonna hurt you."

{Aweeeeee! You talk to him so adorably!!!!}

[I do agree. It is adorable.]

{Doctor Wade to the rescue!}

[Shut up, you're going to ruin the moment, idiot,]

Nodding his head, Parker slowly took an inhale of air as Wade cleaned up around his nose, making sure that all blood was gone. Whilst he was doing this, he noticed that some of the small and minor scrapes and cuts were healing over quite nicely, due to the fact of Peter's healing factor.

Once he was done with his face, Wade took the hand that Peter coughed blood into and wiped that clean as well. Placing the dirty rags on the old, stained coffee table. Wade took the opened water bottle and unscrewed the lid. Placing the plastic bottle to Spider-Man's lips, the young hero took a slow sip, hating the way it hurt his throat. After a couple more drinks of the liquid, Wade placed the bottle back on the table in front of him.

His hand, however, still didn't leave Peter's cheek. Wade was, unknowingly, giving Peter security and reassurance -- something that Parker needed.

The two stayed like that, staring into each other's eyes, blue reflecting blue. What a lovely sight it was.

Rubbing small circles on the boys right cheek, Deadpool stared down at him as Peter's mouth parted. "Thank you," he spoke in a horse whisper, almost startling the mercenary.

"For what, baby boy?" he asked quietly, which was seriously out of character for him. Like, the author needs to get his shit together.

"E-Everything, really.." Parker muttered under his breath, his breath becoming a bit more ragged than before. "Listening to me when I needed to talk to someone, and you to actually listen is -- amazing." he started, listing off things to the older man. "And then helping me by cleaning me up after I just barged into your home like I owned the place,"

Deadpool smiled a small, sincere smile. "Baby boy, you don't have to thank me for anything. I mean, I wouldn't do this for any 'ol person, but, you're different. You're... special. And I can't place my finger on what it is that makes you that way."

The Avenger blushed deeply, his heart suddenly beating more erratic than normal. Was he catching a cold? "Still," Peter pressed on, "Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you -- I mean it."

Wade grinned a toothy grin. "Probably end up falling from the sky, right into a dumpster, and snapping both legs off to where you're paralyzed from the waist down, not being able to walk for the rest of your life."

Parker chuckled under his breath, a laugh coming from his lips for the first time in a while.

[Holy shit, that laugh.. it's --]

{Fucking hot}

[I was going to say beautiful, but yeah, fucking hot works too.]

Wade agreed silently, seemingly lost in the boy in front of him. "W-Wade..?" Peter stuttered out, probably without his own consent. Snapping out of his thoughts, Wilson realized how close they were. They were right together, face to face, nearly nose to nose.

"Y-Yeah?" Wade coughed out as he stared at Peter's slightly chapped lips.

Peter was silent.

"Spidey?" Deadpool questioned, eyes flickering up to the brown haired teen (who was blushing a nice, bright shade of red).

Peter finally spoke. "Kiss me."

"What?" {[wut?!]}

Peter's lips met Wade's.

It was such a quick action that the mercenary couldn't even react before Peter pulled apart, like his lips burned him.

Both their hearts were beating fast that Wade had trouble catching his breath. Peter couldn't get a decent one either. Wide eyes, Parker looked like he saw a ghost. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't--"

Peter's words were drawn to a shut as Wade's lips enclosed Peter's once more. Spidey's once saucer-like eyes fluttered shut at the touch. His sweater pawed hand reached up to hold Deadpool's face, pulling him even closer, though that was hardly possible. The hero folded into the merc, ignoring the slight bit of pain that he got for it.

Soon, the two pulled apart, Wade's lips brushing over Peter's one final time before he rested his forehead against Peter's, staring into those dreamy, lagoon coloured eyes.

{Breathe, Wade, breathe!!}

Wade took a breath of air, refilling his lungs with oxygen. Because of this, Parker followed his actions, eyes never leaving Wade's blue ones. His hand was still on Wade, it never leaving, only moving to the back of his neck. "Peter," Wade whispered lowly, heart hammering in his chest.

[I --- he -- what??]

{Holy shit, this is -- this is real!}  

Peter wasn't the best at kissing. Truth be told, that kiss right there that he shared with the merc was his first. So, he didn't know if kissing was suppose to leave you breathless or if it was just Wade. But damn. He wanted to do it again and again.

"I like you," Peter blurted out, blush still ever bright.

Wade's eyes widened even more. "Like 'how Britney Spears loved her hair in '07' kind of like or 'leprechauns being greedy shits with their gold' kind of like?" Peter stared up at the male with confusion in his face.

"I honestly don't know what that means, but, I like-like you." Peter answered honestly, causing Wade to gasp. Peter chuckled, positioning his hands to where they hooked around Wade's neck.

"That's-- fuck, I like-like you too, Spidey. But how could you like someone like me, I'm ugl--"

Peter pulled Wade towards him, giving a soft, slow kiss. "Don't you even dare try to finish that sentence. You are amazing, Wade Wilson. Anyone could see that." Wade looked at him confused, eyebrows knitting together as if he's never been told that -- but knowing him and his past, that was probably true. Heart aching, Peter released one hand and trailed it down his scarred cheek, running all the way down towards his lips. Peter slowly kissed the male again, almost as if he was having withdraws from being apart from Wade's touch, let alone lips.

Smiling, the young male had only one thought at that moment;

'People may not know it yet, hell, you might not know it yet, but, Wade Wilson, you are my everything.'

Chapter Text

This Valentine's Special has no correlation to the actual story.  

Tony Stark started his day by getting attacked by heart-shaped balloons. His nose burned from the strong smell of different brands of perfume, the smell of different flower worsened it even more.

Currently, the billionaire was at a local supermarket, dressed in a cherry red jacket and sunglasses as he searched for the perfect gift for his beloved, Steve. It was only coincidental that he ran into two familiar faces. "Well, fuck me."

"Isn't that what Steve's for?" Wade asked, dressed out in his infamous spandex costume. He was completely ignoring the stares of frightened children around him. From beside him, Clint sniggered.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" Tony questioned, already feeling the oncoming headache.

"Well," Wilson chimed in, smiling through his mask. "You aren't the only one who has someone to woo."

"What is this, the Sims?"

"No. What you're thinking of is 'woohoo'. Get your mind out of the gutter, dickhead."

"Guys," Clint chimed in, trying his best to hide back a smile. "Can we just get out stuff and leave? Because -- correct me if I'm wrong-- but I would like to get home to Nat before she wakes up."

Deadpool did a double take. "You -- Natas -- TOGETHER?!" he shouted, grabbing the attention of multiple people in the isles. Stark sighed. "How the hell did she decide to be with you? You're funny and irresponsible -- she's not funny and -- and responsible!"

"Oh my god -- can I kill him yet?" Stark muttered before speaking a bit louder. "Okay, look. As much as I love this little talk, I have things to prepare for me and Steve, m'kay? 'Kay." With that, the billionaire left the chocolate aisle and ran off out of eyesight.

"Well, shit. He's no fun." the mutant pouted his lip. Wade looked over to Clint, who was now gone. "I guess it's just you and me, birdbra -- oh, come on!" 

{Oh, forget about them, Wade. We gotta Spider to impress!}

"You're right, Yellow. Let's go!" 

Sneaking into his apartment, Wade slowly creaked the front door open, careful not to activate Petey's superhearing.

Once inside completely, he let out a small sigh, the tons of grocery bags in his hands becoming a bit too heavy and a bit too uncomfortable. Closing the door with his foot, he walked over towards his kitchen and gently placed the plastic, brown bags on the countertop. After preheating the oven, he emptied all bags, nearly dropping a huge container of flour.

[Way to go, moron.]

{Don't you mean, Wade to go?}

[Go to your fucking corner, Yellow.]

{awww...}

Ignoring the now bickering boxes, the older male began to sort his groceries; placing thing that needed to stay frozen in the freezer, and those who needed to be in the fridge in the refrigerator.

Taking off his mask, the merc looked around his workstation. Glancing over at the clock, he took in a sharp breath of air.

{Gotta go fast}

[Gotta go real fast]

So, Wade Wilson went fast.

Okay, shopping for Natasha shouldn't be that hard, right? Oh god, Clint was screwed.

His eyes glanced over all the options as he checked off the mental list.

Flowers? To cliche.

Chocolate? Doesn't care for it.

Stuffed animal(s)? Do we want to sleep on the couch for a week?

Perfume? Do we need to repeat ourself?

Wine..? If I could leave your stupid ass brain, I would.

Running a hand through his short, hair, Hawkeye squinted as he glanced around the room. Shaking his head with a sigh, he turned around and walked towards the back of the store. As he passed by the jewelry section, a brilliant idea sprouted.

And that's how the security cameras saw the Avenger running out of the store as if an angry chihuahua was chasing after him.

Similar to Hawkeye, Iron Man had an idea as well. Quickly buying everything in his cart (which was filled to the brim, mind you), the hero loaded his car and drove off into the near sunrise.

As soon as he reached his destination, he booked himself inside and carried everything into his workshop. Placing the bags onto the floor lazily, he immediately grabbed his screwdriver and safety goggles.

"Why the hell haven't I thought of this yet?" he spoke to no one but himself. "I'm a fucking genius!"

"Think what you think," a voice spoke, startling Mr Stark enough for him to drop the tool. Clanking on the cool, concrete floor, the billionaire turned to find Bruce Banner leaning up against the door frame, hot cocoa in both hands. Currently, he was wearing an over sized dark purple sweater and baggy sweatpants.

"Jesus, Bruce, I thought you were Steve." Tony muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he bent down and picked up his abandoned tool. A soft chuckle filled the room as Bruce readjusted his glasses. Stepping inside, he walked over to the desk and pulled out one of the copious chairs that scattered the room.

"Nope, just little 'ol me."

Tony shook his head, an amused expression on his face as he went over to his scrap pile and pulled out nearly ten different types of wood and metals. "What are you doing up so early anyways? It's around four in morning -- which is way to early for you."

Banner sighed. "I couldn't sleep, well, I haven't been sleeping." Only then did Stark see the dark circles under Bruce's brown eyes.

"Why's that?" he questioned as he measured out the length of the wood, marked it, and repeated the process for the the metal. "No good dreams?"

"More like lack of them." Iron Man raised an eyebrow. Once more, Banner sighed, tugging at his sweater pawed hand. "It--It's nothing, don't worry about." he muttered after a moment. "So, what are you building for Steve this time?"

For a moment, Stark was about to retort, telling him that there was no use in trying to keep things bottled up, but then realized that it really wasn't the time for the conversation, and that Bruce would tell him when the time came. Forcing a small smile, he waved over his friend and showed him a quick, sloppy blueprint of what he was building. "He's gonna love it, Tony." Bruce smiled up at him. Tony nodded.

"That's the plan, big guy."

Bruce stood for another couple of minutes, silently watching Stark build before he started to slowly retreat. Grabbing his mug of cocoa, he walked towards the door. "You know," Tony's voice came from behind him. Turning around, he looked to his friend. "You can always talk to me about it -- your bad dreams or whatever. And if you don't want to talk about them, I'm always up for listening to whatever.."

The doctor smiled. "Thank you."

As soon as Bruce left, the sound of heavy footsteps began to get closer and closer. Eyes furrowing, he looked up from his half completed project. There, in the doorway, was a panting and dishevelled Clint Barton. "Oh my god I need to get into better shape." 

"What the hell are you doing here, Katniss?" Jumping nearly a mile into the air, Clint looked up to find that he wasn't alone in Tony's workshop.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"This is my workshop, birdbrain." Tony sniggered as the assassin walked into the room and started rummaging through the smaller pile of metal to the side. "Okay, so I'll ask again -- what are you doing here, Clint?"

"Oh, you used my name! What a lovely surprise," Barton chuckled from his squatted position. A long silence proved that the other hero was not amused. "But," Barton sighed, eyes landing on a gold looking metal. "I'm making Natasha's Valentine's present."

"What happened to the supermarket shindig?" Stark questioned, screwing a piece of material into place. 

"Could ask you the same thing, hmm?" Hawkeye retorted, eyebrow raised as he spun back around and grabbed a pair of big ass tweezers and a torch, the small piece of metal in his hand. Stark's eyes widened at the scene.

"Oh my god -- what the fuck are you making? This is breaking nearly ALL of the Clint Barton Safety Rules and Regulations!" Barton pouted, moving over to sit in front of Tony and his creation.

"I'm making Nat something," he repeated as he grabbed the torch and flicked it on, blue flame sprouting from the end of it causing him to smile.

"At least put some goggles on, man!" 

{I swear on the author's life, if we get one more paper cut--}

[Do you ever shut up? We're doing this for Peter -- therefore it doesn't matter if we get hurt, as long as he's happy.]

"Whitey's right, Yellow. This is for Peter." he spoke as he took the tiny, preschool scissors into his hands and began to cut out a heart from the construction red construction paper.

{Wowza, gangbang much?}

[If I could roll my eyes, I would. I hope you know that.]

Once the heart was cut, he took his black permanent marker and uncapped the lid, releasing strong smelling chemicals. [Have I ever told you how much I hate the smell of permanent markers?]

{Awe, really? I like them because they make us feel high! Did I ever tell you the time were I got high off of a pink Shar--}

"Shh!" Wade spoke dramatically, "We can't say the name brand, we'll get copyrighted! It's a--a Warpie!"

{Yeah, you's right.}

[I am surrounded by idiots.]

Wilson rolled his eyes as the oven beeped loudly. Springing up from his position, he ran (nearly tripping over the counter) towards the machinery and opened the door, revealing an arrange of many different, homemade treats. Smiling happily, he quickly placed on his Hello Kitty oven mitts and pulled it out of the oven and onto the counter top.

{Oh my god, Peter is so gonna bang us afterwards,}

[Agreed.]

Once everything was out of the oven, he closed the door and went to the freezer, pulling out a gallon (or five) of chocolate ice cream. "Oh my Impala, call us Martha Fucking Stewart, cause damn!"

Placed on the counter was chocolate hearts, heart shaped pancakes and eggs, three different kinds of cakes (red velvet, chocolate, and lemon [Peter's favourites]), root beer floats, chocolate ice cream, chocolate drizzled popcorn, and finally, chocolate bark (sprinkles on top).

All around the kitchen (and living area), was streamers ranging from white to red to pinks, and hearts plastered on the walls, and balloons on ever surface. But, the most delicate, and time consuming, decoration was the handmade heart banner going from one end of the kitchen counter to the other that read

in big, black letters.

"Hey, Wade?" Peter's voice called from down the hall.

[Oh gods, this is the big moment!]

{PREPARE YOURSELF--}

"Y-yeah?"

{Oh no, what if it's too much? What if Peter doesn't like it? what if--}

Peter stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide as he looked into the kitchen where his loving boyfriend, and part time merc, Deadpool was standing, his mask long and forgotten. "H-Happy Valentine's Da--"

Wade was interrupted as a pair of lips met his. 

This kiss, however, was over as fast as it started. Looking up, Parker's eyes filled with tears, a happy smile placed on his face. "Thank you," he spoke softly, looking up to meet Wade's denim coloured iris's. "But you shouldn't have done this," Wade's heart sank, "I don't deserve it.."

"Gasp!" the older male shouted, "Don't you dare think of that again, baby boy. You are worth every penny, every second, every bruise, and every fucking thing in the world, Peter."

A happy tear trailed down Peter's face, his lip quivering as he let another salty track fall down his cheek. Pulling his boyfriend in closer, Wade kissed his lover's forehead, smiling down softly at the younger. The two stayed like that, Spider-Man's cries becoming a hiccup here and there.

Then, Peter's stomach growled loudly.

Laughing, Wade pulled away to look down at the messy haired, blue eyed human perfection. "How about we eat some food, yeah?"

Peter grinned, "Yeah."

"Hey, Nat?" Clint called out. Walking into their shared bedroom, Barton found his partner on their bed, tying her short hair back out of her face.

"Hmm?" she questioned, looking up as she finished tying the hair tie.

Hawkeye smiled as he walked over towards the bed and sat down next to her, revealing a box that was behind his back. "Happy Valentine's Day, honey."

Raising an eyebrow, the female hero took the dark purple and red box. The package itself was beautiful, but the item inside was even more alluring.

On a velvet  surfaced laid a (what seemed to be handmade) golden necklace in the shape of an arrow, purple wiring wrapping around the bottom half in a small spiral. It all connected on a golden looking chain.

Smiling softly, Natasha quickly placed it on her body. "Thank you," she spoke softly, looking up to see Clint staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, mirroring her smile. "Just glad you like it."

"Well, of course I would, dumbass." she muttered before her lips found Clint's.

It was exactly 5:03 am when Steve walked into the lab to retrieve Tony, seeing that he wasn't in bed with him to begin with. "Tony?" Rogers called out as he stepped into the (quite) large atelier.

"Great!" Tony hollered out, seeing his boyfriend nearing his table. "I was just about to come get you!" Steve's eyebrows furrowed.

"What -- why? Is something wrong, sugar?" Steve asked, walking a bit closer to his inamorato.

Tony tilted his head, "What? Oh! No, no!" he laughed as if it was the funniest thing (which it probably was in his sleep deprived state). Stark placed his goggles down on the metal worktable. Walking around the side, he threw his arms around Steve's neck and pulled him close, placing a chaste kiss onto Roger's plump lips. "Guess what today is,"

Steve tilted his head, copying Tony's actions from just a mere minute ago. "The fourtee-- oh. Oh shi--"

"Watch your language, young man." Stark scolded playfully, pointing a teasing finger at the Captain. Steve chuckled under his breath, shaking his head with a sigh.

"You're never going to give that up, are you, sugar?"

"Not a chance." Tony beamed.

Taking his soldier's hand, he dragged Steve to the desk hurriedly. "Now, let's go look at your present!" If anyone else saw this exchange, they would think that Tony was more of a energetic puppy who just took a slurp of his owner's coffee. But to Steve, it was almost normal. "Close your eyes!"

Mumbling under his breath, he let his partner drag him to a different part of his workshop. "Alright, annnnnnnd open!" 

Cracking open his eyelids, Steve Rogers came face to face with a beautiful wood stained vinyl player, a big red bow tied to the top. Steve's eyes widened. "Is this -- is this for me?" Tony smiled, nodding his head as he placed a record onto the machine, music slowly starting to spill throughout the room.

"Dance with me, Steve."

"Gladly," Steve grinned, pulling the hero close to his chest, his hands resting on Stark's hips. Tony's hands wrapped around Roger's neck once more, resting his head under the blond's chin. "I love you."

Tony smiled to himself, his heart thumping against his chest. "I love you too."

Chapter Text

It was only a couple of hours later when Tony Stark awoke on his leather couch with a pounding headache. He, at first, assumed he was hungover, but only realized that he hasn't had a drink since Peter arrived -- therefore, he was not hungover. Then, realization dawned on him.

"Wanda!!" Tony shouted, instantly regretted his decision.

A few seconds later, the red haired female peaked her head from around the corner of the room. "Yes?" she questioned, too scared to come out fully.

"Wh... Why that hell did you punch me out cold?" Stark snapped, sitting up from his reclined position. Rubbing his forehead with his hand, he groaned as the beating on his skull started to relax slightly.

"I, uh.." Maximoff stuttered, her eyes widening as they darted around the room for any acceptable answer. "You see.. there was this, uh, fly.."

The billionaire raised an eyebrow, "A fly the size of my head?"

"It was a horse fly..?"

"Wan--"

"Gotta go!" she shouted, turning on her heal quickly and spinning face first into the wooden wall. "Shit," she cursed under her breath as she took off into another room, the palm of her hand holding her forehead.

"The hell?" Tony muttered under his breath, as he blinked a couple of times, still trying to get used to the bright, living area light. "Hey Jarvis?" 

"Yes, Mr Stark?" the British AI replied instantly.

"What happened earlier today?"

The voice hesitated. "I'm afraid I cannot say, due to Ms Romanoff's request, sir."

Tony tilted his head to the side. Oh, he was so going to find out now, even if it killed him. Which, unknowingly by him, it probably would. "Jarvis,"

"Sir?"

"Override Code B-39C," Tony spoke into the air. Once more, the voice hesitated but complied.

"Activating Override Code B-39C. Pulling up the footage now, sir." Nodding into the air, Tony watched as the television in front of him flickered on. The first camera was in the elevator -- and what he saw pissed him off.

There in the elevator was Natasha, Clint, and a badly injured Peter Parker. Bruises and cuts littered his skin, both dried and fresh blood painting his body like war paint. "What the hell happened to you, Peter?" the hero whispered under his breath as he watched the screen with wide eyes.

The door soon opened to reveal Wanda, who, like usual, shrieked at the sight. "What the hell?!"

"Wanda -- Wanda!" Clint called, snapping the female out of her panicking thoughts, his voice coming out a bit muffled through the security cameras. "Please be quiet. We can't let Tony find out about this -- at least, not yet."

"About what?" Tony's own voice commented as he started to walk towards the elevator. The trio's eyes widened.

"Wanda, please!" Natasha whisper shouted to the other female. Gulping, Wanda spun around to face Tony.

"H-Hey, Tony.." she stuttered out, blocking the view of the elevator (that currently held the others).

"Hey, uh, Wanda?" Tony answered back in more of a question. "What's going on? What can't I find out?"

Wanda's eyes widened. "Oh, uh, nothing! Nothing! Just, uh, a gift is all.."

Stark squinted his eyes, "But my birthday isn't until next year..? Come on, Wanda, tell me already!" he whined, trying to look over at the elevator.

"Tony n-no! D-don't make me do this!" Wanda begged.

"Do what?" he questioned as he turned back to trying to peak inside. "This is my building and I deserve to know what's going on."

"Tony--"

"Move."

"I'm so, so sorry," Wanda apologized.

"For what?" the totally clueless past Tony Stark questioned, tilting his head to the right. Not even hesitating, Wanda Maximoff brought up her fist and punched Stark straight in the face. Flying backwards, the male hit his head on the ground and slipped off into a soft sleep.

"What the hell, Wanda?" Clint laughed, looking at the girl with an amused expression.

"I-I, uh, I had t-to stop him --- and he wouldn't l-listen!" the Scarlet witch mumbled, an apologetic expression on her face. "I-I didn't think I hit him that hard.."

Natasha rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face, "Thank you, Wanda. Really. Let's keep this between us, alright?" Nodding her head, the witch watched as Clint and Natasha ran off into the lab with a, still, comatose Peter Parker.

The billionaire continued to watch as the screen intensely as both Nat and Clint made their way to what seemed like the lab, both holding up a comatose Spider-Man.

"Bruce, open up!" Natasha roared, pounding on the lab door. In a flash, the door to the lab was wide opened, with an equally wide eyed Banner.

"Holy shit, that's --- that's Peter!" he exclaimed as the two rushed into the room and sat the young teenage superhero onto the examining table. Once he was out of their arms, Barton rushed to close the door, locking it for extra manners, while Natasha ran a hand through her wavy, short hair.

"Bruce," Natasha spoke softly,. "I need you to listen, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Bruce nodded his head, looking up at the assassins. "Peter got hurt at school -- badly. We need you to stable yourself so Peter can get the correct attention that he needs. An ordinary hospital is out of the question, seeing he has superpowers, and that would draw way to much attention." Nodding along, the doctor slipped on his lab coat and pulled out some materials that Clint didn't know the name of. "And please, Bruce, Stark cannot find out about this. Not yet."

"The last thing we need is an emotional, angry Iron Man flying around and threatening each student with death until one of them cough up." Clint added, crossing his arms over his chest as he and Natasha watched from a slight distance.

Tony scoffed. "Bullshi-- okay, I see your point.."

Checking over Peter's every injury, Bruce began to slowly lift up the boys shirt. "Stop." Natasha ordered the male. Instantly, Bruce retracted his hand, dropping the shirt in the process. "There's something you should know before you do this -- the both of you." she sighed. 

Tony leaned forwards even more. "What's going on here, now?"

"But first, you have to swear that you will keep this secret; and the one I'm about to tell you. If you don't, you will be on my list of people that I will personally hurt, got that?" the two gulped and nodded their heads, eyes widened slightly. "And if any of disagree with what I'm about to tell you, and/or treat Peter differently after this, you are not welcomed here anymore, and no longer will be considered my family."

"Nat, what's wrong?" Clint questioned, "What's wrong with Peter?"

"Peter is," Romanoff sighed --

At that moment, no one noticed a limping young teenager walking into the living area, wide eyed as he heard familiar voices playing through the speaker system. Tony looked up quickly, finally hearing him approach the room, trying his best to grab the remote to mute the telly, but it was already too late.

"Peter is transgender,"

Stark's breath caught in his throat as he finally muted the tv, only a fraction of a second too late. "Peter, I -- I didn't mea--"

Peter couldn't move. He couldn't breath. He could hardly see from his teared vision. Slowly, he began to take one step back, and then another. The voice of Tony calling after him becoming fainter and fainter, the sound of his sobbing becoming increasingly louder as he gasped for air.

Peter Parker's secret was out.

And so, Peter Parker ran.

Chapter Text

He was hurting again. All over.

But he felt numb.

It hurt so much that he was numb.

Stationed on a rooftop that held many memories, Peter curled in on himself. His anxiety spiking so high that it would kill someone if they jumped off. It was mere moments before he had a panic attack.

Minutes passed -- or maybe it was seconds -- and his breathing became harder to control. His vision became blurry and he gripped his legs to his chest so tightly that it would leave contusions. His head was so loud -- so violent -- that he wanted to scream. He wanted to cure the wind. He wanted to send out a big, gigantic 'FUCK YOU!' to the sky, hoping someone out there, wherever they may be, heard it.

His body was shaking. But he couldn't tell if it was from the cold. His grip loosened as that trembling made its way down towards Peter's fingers.

Why was the world so cruel to him?

What has he done to deserve this?

To deserve to be who he was.

After all, Peter Parker was just a kid.

"Peter," a soft voice spoke. Nearly jumping out of his skin, the teenage boy looked up. Tears fell from his eyes as he stared at his mentor. "Listen, kid, breathe -- breathe!" 

But it was hard to breathe. Or maybe he just didn't want to anymore.

Out of all people to find out (on accident, for god's sake), Tony Stark was not on that list.

The sound of Tony's suit landing a few feet away from him echoed through his ears.

The sound of Tony's footsteps making their way closer echoed through his ears.

"Please don't hurt me." was all the young boy managed out.

Stark froze. Did he really think he was going to hurt him?

A frown etched its way onto his face as he scooted to where he was sitting down beside him. "Peter..." he whispered softly, concern and a bit of something else stitched in his voice. "I would never hurt you. Why on earth would you think that?"

Parker didn't speak for a moment. He sort of zoned out. His breathing made no progress of slowing down, either. "Because I'm a disgrace."

For those who say that Tony Stark did not have a heart are totally wrong; because he could hear his shatter at those words.

"Peter Parker, you are NOT a disgrace -- and don't you EVER think that again, you hear me?"

Parker nodded.

"Good."

The young boy didn't calm down though. Tony saw this too. Going against all the things his brain was telling him, he slowly wrapped his hand around Peter's fragile body. At first, the younger froze from the sudden contact, but slowly he relaxed. More tears fell down his body as he leaned into Stark.

Rubbing his hand up and down, Tony smiled a small, sad smile. His lips thinned as he pulled Peter towards him even more to where his head was resting on the top of his chest. Right now, Peter needed someone to reassure him that everything was okay and for someone to be there for him. What better way could Tony do than acting like a father-figure towards the boy.

It was only when his phone rang that he pulled apart. By then, Peter was no longer crying, just a few sniffs here and there. Answer the phone, Tony frowned deeply. "I understand. We will be right there. Thank you."

"What is it?" Peter asked as he looked up towards his mentor. Tony only pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes glossing over ever-so-slightly. "Mr Stark, tell me what's going on!" Peter shouted after a moment, a horrible, gut-wrenching feeling in the bottom of his stomach. The hero sighed.

"Peter, it's... it's your aunt."

Chapter Text

Peter walked into the hospital, a worried expression on his face. Though that was normal, seeing he was in a place where people got worried and upset a lot. Because of this, he was lost in a sea of people.

Tony placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tight as they walked to Aunt May's room. Nearly choking on his own breath, Parker pushed back the glass door that blocked him from his aunt. He was now able to see her much clearer now.

"Aunt May..." Peter sobbed as he saw her.

May Parker was laying on a hospital bed of white, IV's and tubes running all over her body. A nasal cannula wrapped around her ears. Her face was abnormally pale, and she was way skinnier than the last time he saw her. Bags were under her eyes as they closed peacefully. The heart monitor next to her beeped in a steady rhythm.

Tony's jaw clenched as he looked on as the teenage boy took one step, and then, another. "Oh god, Aunt May.." Peter sobbed, tears flowing down his cheeks wildly. It was only then when a nurse walked into the room. Stark moved out of the way.

"You must be Peter." the nurse spoke softly, a small smile on his face. Parker sniffed and looked up at the male. "She talks about you all the time -- it's one of her favourite topics."

Tony's lips thinned. He should go, this doesn't concern him. Placing his sunglasses in his suit pocket, he turned to leave the room.

"Where do you think you're going, mister?" a strangled voice spoke from the opposite side of the room. Turning back, Tony saw Aunt May looking at him, a smile on her face, despite the pain she was going through.

"Aunt May!" Peter cried as he reached down and hugged the older lady.

"Hey, Pete," the woman smiled. "How've you been?"

Parker shook his head. "Why are you in the hospital? Why didn't you tell me you were sick."

The elderly lady shook her head. "It's nothing of importance."

"Lie."

Aunt May chuckled before she became serious once more. "Peter, there's something you should know."

Peter's heart sank and his spidey senses were going off the charts. "W-What is it, Aunt May?" 

"I have cancer, Pete. Bad cancer." she whispered out softly. Parker's jaw went slack and his eyes mimicked saucers. Tony turned his head to the side as the nurse took his cue to leave.

"You-- why didn't..." Peter closed his eyes. "For how long?" Silence flooded the room. "For how long?" he repeated.

"More than a couple of years."

A stray tear fell from Peter's cheek at his aunt's words. "Why didn't you tell me?" he questioned, his voice laced with heaps of emotions. "I could have helped you get better -- I can help you get better!"

"Oh, Pete..." she whispered, tears in her eyes as her chest began to hurt with pain and guilt. "I'm so sorry.. You shouldn't have to go through this.."

Peter grasped Aunt May's hand softly. "There's..." Aunt May halted. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "There's a le.." she gasped for air, "..tter for you.. in your ba--pack.."

"A-Aunt May?" Peter called out in concern, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the monitors beeping loudly. "Aunt May?" he tried again, tears flooding his eyes.

May only gave him a sweet smile, tears prickled her eyes as well. "I lo-ove you, Pe-Peter. Be the best h-hero you ca-an be.."

"A-Aunt May?" Peter called as he felt hands wrap around his midsection. Doctors and nurses began to flood the room, all shouting different things at each other -- but the young hero didn't hear. Tony tried his best to pull him out of the hospital room, but that was a mission itself. With his super strength, it was nearly impossible. "Aunt May!" he shouted as he tried his best to run towards her.

"Peter," Tony spoke quietly, his jaw clenched and throat dry.

"No, no, no! LET ME GO!" he cried, tears splashing onto the marble floors. Tony's heart ached. "Please-- please, just let me go!" he begged, as he tried, again and again, to run towards May. But Stark didn't let him go.

Peter simply watched as they placed two metal things upon her bare chest, and he watched as her body jolted upwards, but her heart monitor stayed the same -- lifeless. Peter screamed, his voice echoing the hallways of the building, grabbing the attention of many staff members and patients.

Peter simply watched as the doctors all shared a sad glanced with each other as they pulled up the white bed sheet above Aunt May's face after countless minutes of CPR and other things. "Please -- NO!" 

And Peter simply watched as a part of him died, right in front of his very eyes.

'Say hi to Uncle Ben for me.'

Chapter Text

"Talk to him."

"You don't think I haven't tried that already?"

"Man of Iron, this is a sad moment for him, but he will come around in time."

"Yeah, but how much time is enough?"

§

Peter's ears rang as he stayed stationed on his small bed. He was currently at Aunt May's. He was staying there until the landlord finally sold it to another person -- or persons. Mr Stark knew he would be staying there, and even offered Peter to stay there with him. But, of course, Parker declined.

He needed to be alone right now -- or at least that's what he thought.

Peter Parker stood up from the bed and made his way towards the middle of the room. There, he stood. He didn't speak -- he didn't know how. But his mind -- oh, his mind was screaming. Screaming in pain and torture and sadness and so many other feelings that he didn't know.

He's lost so many people in his time -- so many -- but he went on with his life, acting as if he deserved happiness, and friends, and the Avengers, and Wade and love. But he didn't. He didn't deserve any of those things.

All the young boy wanted to see was Aunt May opening his door with a smile on his face, telling him that dinner was almost ready and that she was making his favourite; spaghetti.

He wanted to nod his head and smile as he walked into the dining area in their small house not a few minutes later, laughing as he saw Aunt May trying to stop the noodles from falling off of his plate.

He wanted to just sit down and laugh happily over a stupid joke that May heard during her shift at the hospital. He wanted to laugh -- laugh with Aunt May.

Not a few minutes later, Uncle Ben would walk in, a smile on his face. His stomach would growl loudly, causing them all to laugh. Uncle Ben would take his spot next to Peter and May, a smear of some substance across his forehead.

May would shake her head and grab a rag, wiping it off of her husband's skin, playfully scolding him while doing so. Peter would watch the interaction with pure admiration in his eyes, hoping one day that he could find someone to care for him like Aunt May does for Uncle Ben.

But most of all, Peter just wanted to have his family back.

Turning towards his bedroom door, Parker stared at it, waiting and pleading for Aunt May to come and open his door, warning him that dinner was nearly finished and that he needed to finish up his schoolwork.

But the door didn't open -- and the smell of whatever May decided to cook didn't fill his nostrils either.

The brunette sunk to his knees and his body hit the soft, carpeted floor with a thunk.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he shouted, begged, and cursed for someone to bring back his family -- his home.

But no one heard -- and no one came.

Chapter Text

It had been exactly one week and three days that the tiny teenager known as Peter Parker stayed at his aunt's place, and it was only one week and three days that he was being kicked out.

"Please, Ms Ainsley, this is my home!" Peter begged his landlord. They've been discussing this matter for approximately five minutes and fourteen seconds. The young hero was running out of energy -- and fast too. "This is where I grew up -- this place has all of my memories! All that's left of Uncle Ben and Aunt May!"

Ms Ainsley smiled sadly down at the young child, her greying hair tugged back in a loose bun, the spectacles that were on her face slid down her nose the slightest. "I'm sorry, Peter," she sighed, "But there's nothing that I can do, the house is already sold."

Peter's heart dropped even more. "Please," he whispered out, his heart lurching up his chest and into his throat, causing his voice to crack. Ainsley only shook her head, her frown deepening.

"Go collect your things, Peter. This is for the best, you just don't know it yet."

Parker held back an angry scream as the familiar of something wet pricked at the back of his eyes. Turning on his foot, he went to his room and grabbed his duffel bag. Throwing it on his bed, he gathered as much of his old stuff as he could.

But no matter how big his bag was, it wasn't large enough to carry the memories of his childhood home.

Pulling at his sleeve, he groaned softly. Why was he getting so upset about this? It's just a stupid house, isn't it?

Wrong.

This wasn't just a 'stupid house', this was Peter's home.

He should be putting up more of a fight. But he was just so... tired.

Tired of it all.

Tired of staring at the blank wall in hopes that Aunt May would come back.

Tired of having to go through the struggle of dealing with Flash every damned day.

But most of all, he was tired of trying.

He just wanted it all to end.

Peter Parker was never a fighter, so why did the world expect him to fight back?

Duffel bag tight around his hand, the brunette walked towards the Avenger's Tower, trying his best to keep warm in the cold weather of December.

December. 

Her favourite season.

Sniffing, the male shook his head and started walking once more. This was stupid. Everything was stupid -- he was stupid.

Parker clenched his jaw as he pushed by people on the sidewalk, faffing around as they continuously talked to their neighbouring partner about trivial things. They took no notice of the boy who was slowly breaking inside (and nearly outside as well), marching his way towards a tower of superheroes.

Superheroes.

All these people, Natasha, Wanda, Mister Stark, Steve, and so many others. They all claimed to care about him -- treating him as an equal on the battlefield of life.

But Peter wasn't their equal.

Spider-Man was.

Spider-Man was the only good thing about Peter Benjamin Parker, and he didn't know how long he was going to last as him.

The world didn't need the bug of a vigilante, they had the Avengers.

Peter was surprised that he's lasted so long as the crime-fighting spider, seeing the world was slowly forgetting about him.

Parker stopped, bumping into a stranger as the crosswalk light turned red. He was in the front of the line, copious people mounting up behind him as they all waited for the light to turn that neon green. Cars honked as they drove by, most of them speeding (not like the police cared).

A scream erupted far away -- too far for any of the citizens around him to notice, but Peter heard.

It was a girl, he was sure, from how high pitched it was.

He was about to move, but that thought dawned on him once more. The light turned green.

The world didn't need Spider-Man.

Shaking his head, he continued his path towards the Tower.

The elevator dinged as the young boy took a step out of the lift, coming face to face with the people who vowed that they cared about him. They all froze.

Peter froze.

One by one they looked away from the group to turn towards Peter, their breath hitching as they looked at the younger boy's state.

He wore a simple, baggy sweatshirt -- the same one that Ben gifted him years ago, and a pair of sweatpants. Both of them were too large, though they seemed to fit just a week ago...

The boy's hair was tangled and messy, sticking up in places that mimicked a certain god's helmet. His skin was abnormally pale, and his eyes were so red that if the Avengers didn't know any better, they would have thought the young male was on some kind of drug.

"Oh, Peter..." Tony whispered out softly.

Parker couldn't handle this, he couldn't handle the confrontation. Not now, anyways. Hands shaking, he backed up and took off towards his room, dropping something along the way, but he wasn't too concerned about it. Once to his room, he slammed the door shut, the sound echoing throughout the hallways of the large building.

"That was... unpleasant," Thor spoke from his sitting position. This was the first time that he's met the famous spiderling, and their first impression was Peter having a breakdown. Clint rolled his eyes, wanting to make some kind of smartass remark, but, for once, he didn't have it in him. Instead, he spoke softly towards the group.

"Someone needs to talk to him."

Stark sighed, turning back and rubbing his face worriedly. "He wouldn't listen to any of us. No one understands the situation enough, plus, add the other stuff to it as well. It's sensory overload for the poor kid."

"What other situation?" Steve questioned just as worriedly. Both Sam and Rhodey rose a confused eyebrow, not understanding the other situation they were referring too. Somehow, Wanda and Vision understood it all, though they said nothing.

This time, Natasha sighed. Running a hand through her hair, she began to think through this whole ordeal. She wanted to explain to the captain and others of what was going on, but she couldn't find it in herself to knowingly out Peter.

Stark, however, was another story. If it meant he could help his kid somehow, he would sacrifice the world for him. "Peter is going through some things -- hell, he's been through things. His parents died when he was around the age of five years old. Not a couple years later, his Uncle Ben was shot dead by an intruder. Now, Aunt May is... gone." he tried to explain to the best of his abilities. "If you take that, and add what he's going through now, it's basically hell."

Cap shook his head. "I understand that, but what I don't understand is what else you're adding that makes his life so much worse."

Sam finally spoke up from the background, his arms crossed as he stood behind Thor's chair. "I agree with capsicle here. You're gonna have to tell us."

"I can't tell you that."

"Then don't. But if you don't, and the kid can't get proper help, everything is going to spiral out of control." Sam spoke, his voice firm. He knows what he's talking about too. He's seen it happen with his very own eyes.

Rhodey nodded his head. "I agree." he simply added.

Running a hand through his short, brown locks, Stark placed his head in his hands. "Peter is.. Peter is --"

"Young Peter is transgender, correct?" Thor spoke from his spot. Instantly, Natasha, Clint, Tony, and Bruce (who just happened to walk in at that time), snapped their hands towards the god.

"Peter's trans?" Rhodey and Sam parroted in sync.

"How did you know that?" Romanov spoke, her words somewhat sharp.

Thor simply smiled as he sat straighter in his chair. "My sibling, Loki --"

"What does he have to do with anything?" Clint rose an eyebrow. The red-haired assassin nudged him in the stomach.

"Let him finish," she scolded.

Gaining the rest of the attention, Thor continues as if nothing happens. "My sibling, Loki," he restarts his sentence, "is what you call genderfluid. Sometimes he is Loki, God of mischief and lies, the other times he is Loki, Goddess of mischief and lies. Though sometimes, though shall it be rare, he is neither or both. Because of this, I can tell of others in similar situations, like young Peter."

The group stared dumbfounded. "Why haven't you told us this before?" Barton spoke, making sure the god was finished speaking this time.

Odinson shrugged. "None of you asked."

A moment of silence rung through the large space.

"Thor... How willing is Loki on helping another person?"

"Well, it depends on the situation. If you are asking Loki to help Peter with his bodily issues, then more or likely very willingly," he replied.

"Call him -- please," Natasha spoke, her voice final. 

Tony gawked. "Natasha, are you serious?! This is Loki we're talking about, who knows what he would do if he got his hands anywhere near Peter!"

The god rose an eyebrow, his eyes squinted and his lips pursed. "I know you and Loki have had problems in the past, but Loki has changed! Drastically if I may add. Loki has helped tremendously in the past couple of months, you should know this." Thor spoke quite angrily, though, Tony thought, he did have a point.

From what Thor has been saying, Loki has been a great second in command, especially now free from his prison cell in Asgard. Sighing, Stark threw his head back into his hands with a groan.

"If this goes wrong, I am blaming every single one of you."

A knock sounded from Peter's door. "Go away!" he called through the quite thick wood.

A knock sounded once more.

"I said go away!" he spoke, grabbing a hold of his pillow and threw it sideways, not looking as he threw it at his door. Instead of it banging against the wood, it clanked against something that wasn't wood.

"That's not very gentlemanly of you." a soft voice spoke. Nearly jumping onto the ceiling, Parker whipped his head towards the unknown guest.

"H-How did you get in here and -- and who the heck are you?!"

The man simply chuckled. As he sat down the white pillow, Peter got a better look at the person.

"Oh my god, you're Loki!" he squeaked, backing up to where his back hit the wall. The man -- god -- Loki -- sighed softly.

"I am not the man I was back then." he defended himself. "May I sit?" Glancing from the place next to him, and then back at the god, Peter nodded his head, moving to where he wasn't flat with the wall behind him. "Thank you," Loki spoke after a moment.

Peter nodded his head, unable to form the correct words. Holy shit, an actual GOD was sitting beside HIM.

Wait.

Why was an actual god sitting beside him?

As if reading the boy's mind, Loki smiled softly. "I heard that you are going through some... not so great things. Is that true?"

Startled, Peter snapped his attention towards the man. "H-How did you..?"

The silver-tongued prince laughed softly. "I was called by my brother and his friends -- the Avengers. They said I could help you with your... problems."

Eyes widening and panic attack on the verge, Parker carefully spoke. "Ho-How much did they tell you?" he barely got out. "Wh-Why you?"

Loki, seeing the male's panicked state, he quickly answered. "The reason they called me down here was that I know what it's like to have everything in my reach fall apart. I also know what it is like to have a hatred for your own body."

"What do you mean?"

"Peter," he spoke softly, his voice calming, "I know that you are transgender." Panic rose in Peter. "But there is nothing wrong with that," Loki reassured, resolving some of the anxiety in the boy. "I understand what you're going through, especially in this dreaded situation."

The boy's cheeks paled even more. "How would you know? You don't understand what it's like to wake up, expecting to see a note from your Aunt saying that she was off at the local supermarket and that she would be back in an hour, ready to cook a meal for you and your uncle -- and you don't understand what it's like to wake up in the morning and having to look at yourself in the mirror, hating everything that you see."

Loki frowned softly. "You are wrong." he simply spoke, causing Peter to zip his mouth shut. "I do know what it's like. For the longest time, I had faked my death -- thinking it would be for the better. I was... I was wrong, to say the least." he sighed. "I would wake up, expecting my brother to greet me at the dining hall, waving me over as he smiled brightly with food in his mouth, nearly begging me to come along on this adventurous hunt that he was going on later that evening. But, it never happened," he spoke sadly. "There was no greeting, and no happy Thor, either."

"Instead, I would wake up and come face to face with my reflection, hating everything that I could see," he repeated Peter's words. "I was disgusted with myself -- and I still am."

The young hero was quiet for a short moment as he clutched onto the hem of his shirt tightly, tugging on the fabric as he held back those salty tears. Clearing his throat, he talked once more. "I don't understand how you're supposed to help me be trans -- out of all the people, why you? Why do you say you understand?" he repeated his question unknowingly. At the moment, his brain was barely working.

Loki smiled softly at the young mortal, a small laugh rippling through his body. "Peter, I can help you with your body dysphoria. I am what you call genderfluid."

Parker's eyes widened. "You--You are?" he spoke quietly, a tone of hopefulness sparked through him.

The prince smiled softly. "I am. Though today is one of my male days, I can feel that a feminine day is approaching, however."

"How can you feel it?" Peter inquired, his head turning as though he was a lost puppy. The elder grinned at this.

"I can just feel it, just like someone can feel a cold coming along themselves."

Peter's eyes suddenly felt heavy, his lack of sleep getting the better of him. Seeing this, the god quickly scooted over to where his back was against the wall and opened his arms. "You can lay on me if you would like. You are deprived of human touch, this is the least I can do to help you, for now at least."

A sleepy smile appeared on the young male's face as he quietly scooted towards the man. Sitting beside him, he curled into the other's side, his hands gripping the loose cotton of his shirt. Snapping his fingers, Loki summoned a blanket -- but not one from Peter's bed.

"This was my favourite blanket growing up. It's the skin of an animal that Thor had hunted centuries ago. It is simply the most comfiest of materials." the black haired male smiled fondly, running his hands over the fur.

"Thank you, Mister Loki..." Peter mumbled into his chest.

"You are most welcome, Peter." Loki smiled softly, his arms wrapping around the innocent child.

A few moments later, the boy was sound asleep. Placing his head against the white, cream coloured wall Loki closed his eyes as he began to hum a soft melody of a song that his mother used to sing to him. With the final note of the song, Loki drifted off to sleep as well.

Thor and the rest of the Avengers sat in the common room of the Tower, watching as JARVIS played the feedback from Peter's room on the large television screen.

None of the surrounding people expected Loki to act so kindly towards the young child. They were all in pure shock -- all except Thor, of course. He had expected this from the beginning.

Though, what he wasn't expecting was the soft melody of Frigga's favourite Asgardian song. Smiling softly, though it pained him to do so, he spoke the last words of the song in a whisper.

"Mornie alantië;  a promise lives within you now."  

Steve wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear that or not, so he simply ignored it. Instead, he looked back towards the screen, a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

"Peter, please come with me," Loki asked nicely. "You need some social interaction."

"I'm interacting with you." the young, teenaged boy stated with a grumble.

He was currently sitting on his bed, his back against the headboard. His knees were pulled up to his chest, his two-sizes-too-large shirt swallowing his thin body. He ran a hand through his untamed hair, wincing as his fingers got caught in a small knot. "You know that's not what I mean." Loki chided, a stern look on his face. He was trying (key word: trying) to bring the child out of his shell of a room and towards the living area to actually speak to other people than himself.

"I just don't want to go out there and see them all..." he mumbled through the fabric of his shirt, which he pulled up towards his nose. "As soon as I step into the commons they'll start drowning me in their pity."

Loki sighed. He knew what Parker meant. After trying to take over New York a couple years back, he returned to Asgard, facing his punishment there, and as he walked down that dreaded isle, all he could see was the anger on Odin's face.

As a young child, Loki tried his best to impress Odin -- trying to be an equal to Thor. Years later when the Allfather announced that Loki wasn't actually his child, it all clicked into place. Because of this, he realized on Frigga and her guidance -- for he will always be her son.

But when he saw the look on his 'father's' face, he also saw the look of disappointment and pity on Frigga's. That was what broke him the most.

Sighing, he brushed his traumatic backstory to the side for another day. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he gently placed a hand on Peter's knee and glanced towards the floor. "I know what it's like to be pitied, Peter, and I know that it does not feel good at all, but," the god looked towards the younger, "That is how people express their sorrows in situations. You just have to try your hardest to keep your head up and walk through it all."

The two sat in silence for a moment before Peter sighed and nodded his head. "Fine... I'll go with you."

The demi-god smiled softly. "Good. But first, you need to wash up. You reak of so many bodily orders that it's hard to tell which one is which." Peter rolled his eyes as he stood up and headed towards his dresser drawers. Loki sniffed the air, a sour expression on his face. "Seriously child, it smells like Thor's chamber's after coming back from a long hunt."

Parker huffed a breath, a light pink dusting his cheeks. "I get it! I'm going, Jesus!" With a handful of clothes, the sixteen-year-old marched towards the bathroom connected to his room and closed the door shut. The boy could have sworn he heard Loki's laughter whilst he turned the water on.

Shaking his head, Peter sat his clean clothes on the sink counter. Stripping of his clothes, he tried not to look in the mirror at the hideous sight that was himself. Pulling back the shower door, he stepped in and closed the door behind him, sighing as the hot water ran down his sore body, soothing the ache in his bones.

Facing the wall in front of him, he placed his hand on one of the countless tiles, his head coming to rest right beside of it. From there, he simply closed his eyes and began to think back at all the things that have happened over the course of his miserable life.

That idea didn't last too long, for a sharp ache hit his lower stomach, jerking him out of his somewhat trance. It didn't take the boy that long to realize that he was crying small tears. Sniffing, he wiped them from his eyes and turned to finish his shower -- not wanting to keep Loki and the other's waiting that long.

Five minutes later, he stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his lower half, and another hanging on his neck, blocking the view of his upper 'problems'. Closing the shower door behind him, he turned back around to face the mirror, a look of disgust on his face. Frowning, he grabbed his toothbrush and began to brush his teeth.

Shortly after that was finished, he took the towel that was on the back of his neck and began to dry his hair with it, only after turning around so he couldn't see his anatomical errors. Once his hair was nearly dry, he placed the towel to the side and began to dress himself. Picking up the new binder (courtesy of Natasha, Bruce, and Clint), he stared down at it, running his thumbs over the soft material of it all. Thinking for a moment, he decided to do something daring. Placing the chest-reducing material back down, he picked up his tight tank top and placed it on, his large hoodie following shortly after. Sliding on his boxers, he placed his packer in properly before sliding on his sweats.

Standing in front of the mirror, he turned to the side to see if there were any bulges -- which there weren't. Nodding to himself, he ran a hand through his hair and walked towards the bedroom once more, leaving his binder behind.

Loki smiled up at him, still in the same spot he sat when Peter got up. Loki playfully sniffed the air. "Much better," he teased.

Rolling his eyes, Parker scoffed. "Oh, shush," he spoke in the same tone, watching as Loki sat up from his spot and began walking towards the door. Taking a deep breath, he followed after the god.

Opening Peter's door, both Loki and Peter walked towards the elevator. Getting in, Loki glanced down towards the human. Shaking his head, he sighed. "Keep your head up, child. Shoulders back and posture straight. No one of high-importance such as yourself should be walking around as if they're in a ball."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed. "High-importance?" he parroted.

The corner of Loki's mouth turned up. "Yes, Peter, someone of high-importance. Whether you choose to believe it or not, you are the most cared about person in this building, except for Stark himself. You are, what some might say, regal."

With that, the doors opened and Loki stepped out. Eyebrows still knitted together, he quickly followed after the demi-god, and, some might say, he walked with his head held high.

Walking in after Loki, Peter found himself to be the centre of the attention. All of the Avengers turned their head towards the two, more specifically, Peter. And, of course, the look that Peter pre-told was etched into their faces; pity. Ignoring the looks, he walked over and sat down beside of Loki on the loveseat to the far left.

Natasha looked towards the two, a spark of interest in her eyes as she noticed the way that Loki is caring for Peter. Some might say that he has taken the mortal under his metaphorical wing.

"How're you doing, Peter?" Steve questioned from his spot on the couch. Worry and that emotion that Peter hated so much spread through the man's body, it finally resting on his face.

Shrugging, the boy pulled his feet up onto the cushioned seating beside him. "If you're expecting me to say 'I'm fine' or 'good', then you have another thing coming," he spoke softly, tiredness wretched into his voice.

Loki frowned softly as he summoned the blanket from before -- which soon became Peter's favourite as well. Smiling softly up at the man, Peter wrapped it around his body, a tired sigh escaping his lips. The silver-tongued prince took this as a silent 'thank you'.

"Anyone up for a movie?" Tony questioned from the opposite side of the room, right beside of Steve. Sam shrugged, as well as Bruce.

A loud noise came from overhead as the door to the vents swung open, a  tumbling Clint falling from the ceiling and onto the hardwood flooring behind Steve and Tony. Peaking his head from behind the couch, he looked towards the group. "Did someone say movie?"

Rolling his eyes, Tony grabbed the remote from the coffee table and flipped the television on.

That was mistake number one.

Instantly, the screen flashed towards a news reporter standing in the middle of the streets in the freezing cold of December. Peter bit his tongue as he noticed where she was standing.

It was right near where Peter heard the girl screaming.

"Breaking news: Earlier today a local shop owner found the body of a dead teenage girl in his back alleyway. The cause of death appears to be multiple stab wounds. Officers state that the Jane Doe's hands and neck were bounded by a thick rope, resulting in the loss of circulation."

 "Passerby's state that they did not hear anything, nor see anything suspicious, though Mark Angel, the stated shop owner, did hear a scream at around five yesterday afternoon, but 'decided to not act on it, thinking it was simply some teenagers playing pranks'. This conclu-- wait." she paused. "This just in! The NYPD has just released the name of the teenage victim!"

"Her name was 'Michelle Jones'. What a tragic accident, police state, this really does put the cold in cold case. Now, back to you Jim."  

Peter ceased up from beside of Loki. All the attention turned back towards Parker, looks of shock on all of their faces. Even Natasha showed signs of surprise. This was the Michelle -- MJ -- that he always rambled on about to everyone.

"Oh my god," Peter choked out after a moment.

That's who was screaming when he was walking towards the tower.

That's who was being hurt when he decided to throw a hissy fit and not go check the situation out.

This is all his fault.

Seeming to read his mind, Wanda spoke from one of the copious couches. "Peter, this isn't your fault. You did not know that that was Michelle."

Peter shook his head and removed Loki's blanket. Standing up on weak legs he tried to make his way towards the exit, but Loki vanished from the couch and appeared in front of him.

"This is my fault..." he muttered towards Loki, not being able to turn around to see any other person's face. "I killed Michelle... oh my god, I killed Michelle!" he sobbed, his legs suddenly becoming even weaker. Luckily, Loki was there to catch him before he hit the floor.

Pulling the child towards his chest, he cradled the back of Peter's head as agonizing sobs ripped through his body, only being the slightest of muffled because of the god's shirt. "Shh..." he whispered softly towards the child, though it did no use. Frowning deeply, he looked up towards the others.

Thor's heart dropped to his stomach as Stark ran a hand over his face, both looking onward towards the two. Though they couldn't read each other's minds, (except for Wanda, that is), one thought echoed inside of all of their heads.

Why couldn't the world just leave Peter be?

Chapter Text

Though Peter Parker was the first to find out about the death of Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds found out just as fast.

It was a normal morning for Ned, as normal as normal could get. Checking his phone, he looked at the broken phone screen, sighing as he saw that there were no notifications.

See, he and Peter were talking late last night about the death of May Parker, Leeds trying his best to condole the slightly younger boy. He's never really experienced death first hand, seeing the only people he cared about were alive and healthy.

His mother was still alive and well, along with Peter and MJ. His father was... well, his father was out of the picture by a long shot. The second his mother announced her pregnancy to his father, the coward of a 'man' ran out the door with a bag of clothes and his tail between his legs. She was broken-hearted because of his departure, of course, losing all faith in men; that is until Ned was born. When Edward was born his mother's life was turned upside down -- all for the better, of course.

As for Peter and Michelle? They were the most amazing best friends that he could ever ask for -- always being there for him when he needed it, and he vice versa. "Morning, Ned." his mother smiled.

"Morning, mom." he smiled back as he sat on one of the barstools on the counter. "Whatever you're making smells delicious."

The older woman laughed. "You think everything I make is delicious, Edward." The boy shrugged.

"Cause it's true -- hey, are you watching the news? Turn it up," 

Spatula in one hand, she raised an eyebrow, though she turned the small telly's volume up regardless. "When did you get into the news?"

Since Peter became Spider-Man, Ned thought. His mouth opened to speak those words, but closed them last second to save Parker's secret. "Dunno, just thought it would be nice to be up to date, I guess..?" The woman just shook her head once more before turning back towards the stovetop.

" -- body of a dead teenage girl in his back alleyway. The cause of death appears to be multiple stab wounds. Officers state that the Jane Doe's hands and neck were bounded by a thick rope, resulting in the loss of circulation."

"Oh, dear god." Ned heard his mother speak. Ignoring her, he continued to listen -- wondering why Peter wasn't there on patro-- oh. May's death.

"Passerby's state that they did not hear anything, nor see anything suspicious, though Mark Angel, the stated shop owner, did hear a scream at around five yesterday afternoon, but 'decided to not act on it, thinking it was simply some teenagers playing pranks'. This conclu-- wait." she paused. 

A bad feeling settled in the bottom of Ned's stomach. Oh, please don't let it be--

"This just in! The NYPD has just released the name of the teenage victim!  Her name was 'Michelle Jones'. What a tragic accident, police state, this really does put the cold in cold case. Now, b--"

The television was shut off by a shaky hand. Said limb belongs to his mother.

Ned's heart seemed to stop mid-beat as it sunk from his stomach to the cold, ground. His hand went over his mouth as he felt the sudden need for the toilet. Pushing off the barstool -- it falling over behind him, as he rushed off towards the bathroom.

Slamming the door open, he lifted the toilet seat as the bile rose from his throat, to his mouth, and, finally, into the toilet; the porcelain stifling his noises as he cried out in agony, screaming as if he just lost a part of him -- and to an extent, he did.

Reaching for his phone, he ignored the concerned voice of his mother. Opening the phone, he saw there was one notification on his phone.

A text.

From Peter, to be exact.

Sliding open the notification, he read the message with blurry eyesight.

'Come to the Tower.

Peter needs a friend right now, and so do you.

-Stark'

Chapter Text

Twenty four minutes and three seconds later and Ned was walking into the tower, his worn down backpack in his hand. His feet dragged on the ground as he walked, constantly tugging at his long sleeve shirt. His eyes were still blurry and the tear tracks on his cheeks weren't fading any time soon, and neither was his tears. Pushing the correct button in the lift, Ned's hand's continued to shake. He could barely hold his satchel.

His bottom lip was raw from his worrying it between his teeth, and his fists constantly opened and closed, repeating the same motion over and over again.

The doors closed and not a second later, they opened again. This time, it revealed a different scenery.

"Ned." Someone spoke. Looking up, he found the dreaded scene. Peter was on the floor crying, and by the looks of it, he's been like that for a while now. All of his favourite superheroes were around the teen as well.

Black Widow, Iron Man, Captain America, The Falcon, The Scarlet Witch, War Machine, Hawkeye, Thor, and, heck, even Loki of all people.

But at this moment, he couldn't bring himself to fanboy over this. It just wasn't right.

Of all things, Ned thought, this was not how he wanted to meet his idols.

"Ned," Tony spoke again, snapping the younger teenage boy out of his thoughts.

"S-Sorry..." he muttered, wincing at how his voice sounded so -- so...pitiful.

Stark's frown deepened. "Kid don't... don't apologize..."

Again, Leeds sniffed, the backpack finally falling from his trembling hand. Ignoring the clatter of fabric hitting the cold, hardwood ground, he brought his hands up to his eyes, his palms digging into his closed eyelids.

He was trying not to cry.

Not in front of these heroes.

They've experienced loss so many times and Ned was almost positive that they wouldn't have made such a big deal over this like he was. Ned Leeds was being overdramatic. At least, that's what he would hear from the school.

Oh god, school.

He would have to go back and face that hell hole, Peter by his side.

But Michelle wouldn't be there to face it with them.

With that thought, a soft sob made it's way back from his throat and out of his mouth.

"Peter, Ned's here." a feminine voice whispered softly towards the boy, though Leeds didn't see, for he was trying to stop the oncoming panic attack that was spreading through his veins.

A moment of rustling could be heard, as well a sob, and the next thing he knew, warm arms were being wrapped around his shoulders. That someone pulled him to their chest and hugged them tightly.

But that someone wasn't just a someone.

It was Peter.

He knew that hug from anywhere.

Opening his eyes, his thoughts were confirmed when he saw a distraught Peter Benjamin Parker hugging him to firmly that Ned thought that he was going to lose oxygen.

Unable to keep his eyes open for much longer, he closed them tightly as the tears kept streaming down his face. His nose scrunched up as he forced back a strangled sob. He was suddenly losing the strength to stand, and Parker was too, by the feel of things.

The next thing he knew, both Peter and Ned were on the floor, arms wrapped around each other so tight as they cried and mourned their friend together.

The Avengers looked towards the two children with sad looks on their face.

Wanda let a tear slip down her cheek as it felt all too similar to when she lost her own brother. Vision sensed this and slowly, but comfortingly, pulled the witch into a hug, her cries of sadness and pain being muttered by the fabric of his shirt.

Tony and Steve shared a look at each other as the latter walked up to the shorter and wrapped his hand around the other. Natasha and Clint also shared a look, though their's was both of anger for letting this happen to the children, and one of pure, grief-stricken melancholy.

Sam wanted to go and talk to the two boys, but Rhodey placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Looking towards the other male, the older just shook his head, almost as if he was saying 'not yet'. Understanding to an extent, Sam remained still.

Thor looked onwards towards the scene playing out, his teeth bared and his hands in fists. Loki glanced a look at his brother as he felt guilt overpower him. That's how Thor must have felt, Loki thought to himself, I made Thor feel that way, didn't I?

Bruce Banner had to leave the room altogether, afraid he was going to Hulk-Out from the anger he felt when he looked at the teens. But it wasn't anger directed towards them, it was the anger towards the sick bastard who killed Michelle. Peter was already going through enough, this was the last thing he needed -- and Ned...

Both boys finally ran out of tears, a headache the size of TrES-4 -- which was hella big.

Pulling back just enough to separate but not stop being in contact with each other, Ned huffed a breath as he used the long sleeve of his shirt to wipe the remaining tears from his cheeks. Peter did the same.

The group of adults were all deadly silent, Wanda finally able to clamp down her grief, as they listened onwards, afraid they'd miss something vital.

"H-Hey, Pete?"

"Yeah, Ned?"

"I guess our trio is down to two, huh?"

A wave of silence washed over the room, it lasting for a couple of beats. That is until a soft voice spoke up once more.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

Chapter Text

The days at the tower were silent.

There were no happy moments between the Avengers and no cheery morning greetings.

Peter and Ned hardly came out of Peter's room, and everyone was too afraid to ask them to come out of said room.

After Michelle's death, Mrs Leeds took the offer that both Steve and Tony offered; Ned to move in temporarily with them. The woman was confused at first, that is until Steve spoke up from his place -- correcting what Stark had said previously.

"What Mr Stark is trying to say," Rogers spoke, his hands in his pockets as he stared down at the small, petite woman in front of him. "is that this is a time where both Peter and Ned need each other. For comfort. Michelle, Ned, and Peter were all very close friends. They all relied on each other."

"And to have one of them gone... it's tough. Believe me, I know." Tony added. "We'll make sure Ned comes home and visits, or I can arrange a trip for you to come to the tower. I know this is hard for you and a very tough decision, but this is also hard for the boys. They already lost one friend, they can't lose another."

It was currently day five.

Five days after MJ's death --

and the Avengers have yet to see the two teenage boys.

"I'm concerned."

"We all are, Tony." Rhodey sighed towards the man.

The group of misfits and heroes were crowded around one of the many long tables stashed away in a boring conference room that was hardly used. Both Tony and James decided it was finally necessary to hold a meeting about what to do.

"We're all walking on eggshells, guys. We have to figure out what our following actions are and/or should be." 

"I agree with Nat," Clint sighed, running a hand over his face, a coffee pot filled with to the brim with said coffee in his hand. "This isn't healthy for them. Peter's lost so much already -- his uncle, aunt, mom, dad... MJ."

"How the hell are we walking on eggshells if they don't even come out of Pete's room?" Steve said as he sat up straighter in his rolling chair. "Someone's going to have to either get them to come out or someone's going to have to go in."

"When was the last time we've seen the boys eat?" Bruce questioned, completely ignoring the last half of what Rogers just said.

"I leave them food at each meal time, every day," Wanda spoke, a frown on her face. "It's always in the same place. Outside the door and hardly touched. There are a few crumbs and such missing, but that's hardly noticeable unless you have good eyesight."

Clint sighed as he took a large gulp of his coffee.

"I've tried talking to them," Thor said, speaking up for the first time. Sam jumped, only now realizing that the two Asgardian's were still in the room with them. "But every time I go and try to open the door, it's always locked and boarded up."

Stark ran a hand through his hair. "What the actual, and excuse my language, fuck are we suppose to do? None of us knows how to raise a child -- let alone two distressed, depressed, and emotionally unstable teenage boys!"

Collective sighs flooded the room as silence fell over them.

That is until Loki spoke.

"Call Wade," he said.

Heads snapped towards the god's direction. "Who?" the group muttered in response.

The silver-tongued prince merely raised an eyebrow. "He hasn't told you. Oh, that's depressing."

Thor rolled his eyes. "Brother, who is this Wade you speak of?"

Loki huffed a breath. "One, it is not brother." Loki retorted. As he did, the prince's figure started to shift. His long hair grew a few more inches, long, loose curls started to form. The male's eyelashes started to grow a tad longer, a Loki's lips glossed over.

His outer wardrobe shifted to. His once dark green tunic and black trousers shifted into a long, medieval type dress robe, the colour still the same. "And two," Loki spoke up once more, "Wade is Peter's boyfriend. Why have you not heard of this?"

"My apologies, sister," Thor spoke with a nod of his head before turning back to the crowd of Avengers. Each of them was equally confused -- though they tried their best to hide their expression. All except Wanda, Natasha, Vision, and Sam of course. They all seemed to accept it and push the matter aside. This isn't something they should make a big deal out of.

Tony blinked. "Peter has a... boyfriend..?"

"Yes, and his name is Wade. Do keep up." Loki spoke, her eyebrow raised and a small smug smirk pulling at her lip.

"How come you, god of mischief, someone Peter hardly knows, knew this before all of us? This includes two assassins and a mind-reader."

Loki sighed. "Firstly, it is goddess of mischief, and secondly, none of you have simply asked. It is surprising what a person will tell you if they ask you nicely."

Clint rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he sipped on his coffee.

"Lady Loki does have a point." Vision interrupted. "Studies show that simply asking a person about a subject or matter they will be more open to talking about it, rather than a person prying, or spying, for said information."

Stark rolled his eyes. "My apologies," he muttered sarcastically under his breath before speaking up louder. "By any chance do you know this Wade's last name -- that is if you don't have his phone number too."

"For your information," Loki sneered, "I do not have his phone number -- whatever that is -- but I do have his last name. If that satisfies your needs, your 'highness'."

"Brother Anthony please lay off of Loki -- and sister, please lay off of brother Anthony. You both are going through some things and are taking it out on the nearest person, which so happens to be each other." Thor interjected. "We are both here to help Brother Peter, are we not?"

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Seeing Tony will not apologies of his own, I will do so on his behalf. Now, please, could you tell us Wade's last name, ma'am?"

Loki nodded, her curls sweeping over her shoulder. "Very well. Wade's last name, supposedly, is Wilson."

"Wade Wilson?" Sam parroted. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

A moment of uncomfortable silence fell over the gathering. 

Stark thought aloud. "The name sounds so familiar... but why can't I re-- oh."

"Ooooh, I'mma kick some asses."

Chapter Text

"

Ooooh, I'mma kick some asses."

"Barton, for the last time, please watch your damn language!" Steve sighed, rubbing his temples. 

"Gasp!" Tony said aloud with all the dramatic flair of a Shakespearean actor on opening night. "Steven, you watch your language!" 

Natasha nearly banged her head on the table. "Back to the main focus here -- Peter is dating Wade Wilson? The infamous 'Merc With A Mouth'?"

Rhodes grumbled under his breath. "I'm pretty sure he gave himself that name if we're being honest."

Clint cackled. "What? Like how Sam gave himself the fursona 'The Falcon'?"

"Oooh, someone better hold my shit 'cause I'm about to beat his ass into next Thurs--"

"ENOUGH!" Steve yelled, breaking the group into a silence. "Everyone needs to SHUT UP! We are all here to help Peter and Ned, right?" The group silently nodded their heads. "Right. So can we please do that? We need a plan -- and a way to actually call the kid in here."

Stark paused from spinning in his wheely chair. "Jarvis? Can you pull up Deadpool's number?"

"Stark," Romanov sighed. "I don't think that's going to work. He's a mercenary. He's not just going to have his number open to the wor--"

"Mister Wilson's phone number is now on the screen, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Jarvis spoke through the intercoms.

"I'll be damned."

Tony smirked. "Thank's, J. That's all for now."

"We still need a plan." Clint spoke up, eyebrow raised as he took another sip of his coffee pot, bringing the liquid from the brim to the halfway point.

"I could talk to him, or at least try to again. If I am able to teleport into his bedroom I have a higher chance of being able to make contact with him." Lady Loki interrupted from her standing position. "But, if I do this, there is a chance of me losing our trust because I will end up invading his privacy during these 'dark' times."

Thor nodded from his sister's side. "You do have a point, sister. But, at this moment, this is the only plan that we have gathered. If we do not act with haste, I'm afraid that something drastic might happen."

Stark banged on the door to Peter and Ned's shared room. Of course, there was no answer. "Pete, Ned, come out and talk to us!" A moment of silence went through one ear and out the other. "Please..?"

Sighing, the billionaire turned back towards Natasha, Loki, and Bruce. "This isn't going to work. Loki is going to have to magic her way into the room after all."

Loki nodded from the back, and with a swish of green, she was gone.

Once landing on both of her feet, Loki opened her eyes and prepared for the sight before her.

Expecting two teenage boys, Loki's curiosity and bad feeling came over her as she found only one teenage boy.

"Edward is your name, correct?" She questioned towards the owlish boy, who nodded his head.

Leeds was currently sitting on Peter's bed, the blankets around his shoulders as he sat crisscross in the middle. His phone, Loki assumed, was in his hands.

"Where is young Peter, Edward?" the goddess fired another questioned towards the young boy.

Ned didn't answer.

He couldn't.

"Do not make me bring forth your memories so I can see for myself. It is a bit painful." Loki threatened. Leeds shuttered but he didn't budge.

"You'll have to do it then," he whispered out quietly, his voice cracking and hoarse from not talking.

Lady Loki raised an eyebrow. "You're an intriguing mortal, Edward Leeds. Do note that," she spoke as she stepped forwards. Reaching out, she placed two single fingers on the teenager's forehead. Ned gasped softly as the memories began to resurface.

"Peter, please," Ned begged as he watched his best friend paced around the small room that Stark had given Peter.

"Ned, you know I have no other choice." his friend stated as he turned towards his desk and began to open random drawers.

"Yeah, you do! There are these amazing people called THE AVENGERS!" Leeds shouted -- and he thanked Jarvis that the rooms were soundproofed. "Pete, you're -- we're both too fucked up to do anything like this. I won't be able to help you this much if you go out and do this! I can barely think straight!"

"Ned, I have to do this! You just don't understand."

Leeds scoffed. "Peter, I DO understand! Michelle was my friend too, you know!"

Peter slammed his hands on the table. "Damnit, Ned, I have to do this. I can't just sit around and cry while MJ's killer is at large!" he roared.

Leeds stood up from his place and scoffed, a glint of anger and disgust in his eyes. "Michelle wouldn't even be dead to begin with if you would have put on your big boy boxers and did your FUCKING JOB! YOU'RE THE HERO, PETER, IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

Peter froze. "You don't mean that..."

"But I do."

Peter's heart broke. Turning back around to the desk, Parker grabbed his scattered belongings and Spider-Man suit. With that, he turned towards the window. "I'm going to find MJ's killer. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but don't contact me again. Ever."

Pulling away, Loki stared at Leeds with tearful eyes. "What on earth did you do..?"

Chapter Text

"What do you mean Peter's went off the grid?!" Tony fumed, his hand curling into a fist by his side. 

Currently, Loki was in the living room with the rest of the Avengers. Ned, however, stayed put in Peter's room, fearful of what the superheroes would say (or do) to him once they found out the truth.

"I mean what I say, Stark. Peter's gone -- and he's going after Lady Michelle's killer." Loki spoke, a headache already coming her way. 

To say that she was beyond pissed was an understatement. But to say that her worry didn't outgrow her anger would be a lie. Whether she liked to admit it or not, she's gotten quite attached to the young boy, and so have countless others that were standing in the room.

"Is he trying to get himself killed?" he asked, his eyebrows to his hairline. Throwing his hands up, he began to pace the living area's floor space.

"I'm sure he's thought about that," Thor spoke with great sadness. Everyone's heads turned towards the Norse god.

Steve was the first to speak up, though his mouth was so dry it hurt too. "What do you mean, Thor?"

Thor folded his arms over his chest. "Young Peter has lost many things in his life. Family, friends, and who knows who else. On my home planet, and I'm sure for you here, that this is enough to drive anyone mad -- no matter how strong a warrior is." Thor began to explain. "When I first went into battle centuries ago, it petrified me, to say the least. The bloodshed that painted the ground around me, and the fallen soldier's I caused because I simply couldn't do anything about it.

"When I returned to my chambers, I couldn't bear to look myself in the mirror, let alone keep myself healthy. I could not sleep, nor eat. The only things that kept flashing in my mind were what happened on that battlefield that night. I was only a boy when I thought about putting an end to my suffering. But as you can see, I am still here and, as you Midgardian's say, 'still kicking'."

The group was stunned.

"Brother... Why haven't you told me this?" Loki spoke in a whisper, her heart aching as tears glistened in her eyes. But she wouldn't let them fall. Not in front of all these people.

Thor shrugged. "It has never come up."

"If it's any condolences, I know what it feels like," Bruce whispered softly to the group. "I mean, not what battle feels like, but wanting to end my life."

Like before, Steve was the first to recover. "Bruce..?"

"When I was younger," Banner sighed, "my father was quite abusive. He thought that I was a mutant and called me a freak and other horrible names, beating me throughout my childhood." He shuddered. "I wasn't the only one getting beat up every day, though. My mother also took some of his hits. But, years later, she got sick of it. She came up to my room one night and told me to pack my bags, saying that we were going to leave the asshole.

"When I got done packing, I went downstairs and found the two fighting. I tried to break it up, but before I could even reach the bottom step, he struck her with the closest thing near him. The police said he had fractured her skull and died before she even hit the ground. He got thrown in jail and I moved in with my aunt. Though that was literal years ago, the memory of watching one of the only people that truly loved and cared about me during my childhood dying right in front of my eyes still haunts me."

Thor's face filled with remorse. "Is that you are always awake before first daylight?"

Bruce only nodded before turning back to the group. "What I'm trying to say is, that Peter has had people die right in front of him. Ben, May, and he thinks that he could've stopped Michelle's death. If I was in his shoes, all I would want is revenge, not caring if my life was at stake or not. When, and if, he gets his revenge, it's only a matter of time before his thoughts catch up with him."

Sam, James, and Wanda breathed in a shaky breath at the information. They wanted to deny it so much, but no matter how hard they did ignore the fact, the doctor was correct in the end. The only thing keeping Peter Benjamin Parker alive was his vengeance.

"This is all Ned's fault," Tony muttered under his breath.

"Stark." Natasha scolded though she was completely ignored.

"If he would've kept his mouth shut Peter wouldn't have run off and, and --"

"STARK," Natasha growled, sending a shiver down Tony's spine. "I'm not saying that Leeds had any right to say what he said, but he is grieving, and so is Peter. Ned took out his anger and frustration on the first person he saw, which happened to be Peter. If you were there, it would've been you, the same for any other person in this fucking room. They were both ticking time bombs and it was only a matter of time before one of them went off. Sure, Ned had a helping hand in Parker's disappearance, but it wasn't completely his fault."

"The only person who is at fault here is Michelle's killer," Rhodey spoke from his standing position.

Sam sighed as he rubbed his temples. "So, what is our plan of action here exactly?"

"Let's just say I don't mind using a human dick for a dildo and leaving the rest to the files." a new voice spoke from behind the group.

Whipping their heads towards the unknown voice, the group had mixed emotions. Natasha and Clint were reaching for their weapons and Stark was getting ready to call his suit.

"Woah! Calm thou tits!" the man spoke, his hands in the air. "Aww, man, my chimichanga..." 

"Deadpool?"

Chapter Text

"Yes, 'tis I, the frenchiest fry."

"What are you doing here?" Tony growled, his voice low.

Wade sighed. "I'm just trying to find my baby boy. Plus, you were getting ready to contact me anyways. I don't see what the big deal about me just now showing up is all about." he shrugged, before his gaze drifted down towards the piece of food on the floor. Staring at it longingly, he sighed deeply.

"So, you are Mister Wilson," Loki spoke, her voice even and not once wavering. "Deadpool right now, isn't it?"

Wade's head snapped towards the goddess. "Yep! Annnd you must be Lady Loki. The readers quite enjoy you, not gonna lie." The Avengers raised a confused eyebrow. "Annnywho, how are we going to find Peter? Any ideas?"

Natasha, still very weary clad suited man, placed her gun back in the gun holster strapped to her left thigh. "Put your guns, pocket knives, katanas, and daggers on the table and join us on the couch, Wade."

Exactly four guns, two pocket knives, two katanas, and one dagger later, Wade sat criss-cross on the floor. Leaning on the palms of his hands, he stared up at the heroes sitting in front of him on the furniture -- all except Loki, of course, who was standing near her brother to the side.

"I like this man." Loki commented to Thor. Thor's eyes widened as he looked between weapons on the small table and his sister.

"Oh dear. This could end very badly for me, won't it?" he voiced. Loki simply smirked before flipping a piece of her long, black hair out of her line of vision. 

"Alright, let us strategize."

Chapter Text

"So we all know that Peter is going after Michelle's killer, correct? Correct." Tony spoke, his hands wrapped around a giant coffee mug that was half coffee and half something a little bit stronger.

The team, plus Deadpool and Loki, have been trying to figure out where their little spider could have possibly disappeared to, but every time that they get one-eighth of a lead, something comes along and destroys it. Thus, they're always back to square one.

"The question we should be asking is whose MJ's killer -- and she prefers MJ over Michelle, btw." Wade spoke, his mask rolled up to his nose as he sucked on a lollipop. At first, he wouldn't ever think about showing his face, let alone a part of his skin, but when both Natasha and Wanda saw his hesitation, they made him feel safe enough to do it -- they also promised that if any of the members gave him one side look or glance wrong, they'd end them. So, he gave in (and so did his hunger).

"What do you mean MJ's killer? That's what we've been talking about." Steve commented.

Sighing, the mercenary sat up from his reclined position on the couch and faced the group more. "No, you've been discussing Peter's whereabouts, not the killer's. While you all are so busy trying to find Peter, Peter's trying to find the murderer himself. Meaning, he's running all over the city, in all cracks and corners, to find them. But, we won't see that pretty spandex-clad ass of his until he knows who the killer is. Yanno?"

The room was silent for a moment as if they were digesting all the new information. After a moment, Clint spoke up.

"I think I get what you're saying, actually."

Tony scoffed. "Then please, by all means, share with the class."

Standing up, Clint placed his coffee pot on the table as he summoned a holographic city off the map, courtesy of Jarvis.

"What Wade's saying is that while Peter is out there MIA, he's searching for the killer. He's playing detective. We don't know who MJ's killer is -- and neither does Peter. We're all in a giant cat and mouse game of who can find 'em first."

"If we can find them before Peter does, we can be damn sure that we will get our spider back." Natasha nodded.

"Exactly," Clint smirked. Zooming in on the map with both of his hands, he pulled up the spot of where it all went down.

"The last known spot of where our guy is, was in this spot here, which is where MJ..." he trailed off. Barton coughed. "You know... Anyway, this whole area," he tried to zoom in even more, but when it didn't work he scoffed. "Damn it, Stark, fix your goddamn tech!"

Smiling softly, Bruce stood up from his chair and fixed the screen for Clint. Blushing softly when he realized that he was pressing the wrong thing, he whispered a soft thank you to Bruce, who returned to his seat shortly after. "Like I was saying, this whole area," he highlighted, "is where the killer was. This radius isn't too wide, so the police have probably already checked it, or getting ready to finish checking." 

"And seeing that I'm hooked up to the police scanner and there's been nothing about this case on it, I don't think they've had any luck," Deadpool muttered from his spot, readjusted the earbud in his ear. "I swear to god if this dude doesn't take his finger off of the talk-y button when he's not using it, I'm going to scream. This isn't a breathing ASMR, bitch. You are not that aesthetically pleasing."

"Not going to question why you have your phone hooked up to a police scanner. Anyways, continue, Clint." Steve smiled somewhat gently. But in truth, he was just as eager to hear what the archer had to say, just like everyone else in the room; especially Natasha, Loki, Wanda, and Tony.

"If you'll look closely here, you can see that there's two CCTV camera here in the alleyway, but seeing that they're privately owned, the police has to have a search warrant, which can take literal hours to draw up. The possible footage could hold some valuable information, but, seeing that they can't get into it, we won't know unless they release it."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "What are you implying, Barton?"

"Well..." he drawled, a mischevious smirk on his face. "I said the police have to have a search warrant to get into the cams. I never said that we have to have one."

Rogers raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that we break into a privately owned, and possibly federal owned, depending on the search radius, security camera?" 

Wade grinned manically. "That's exactly what he's saying. Clint, I didn't know you had a mischevious side. I love it -- take me right here right now."

Completely ignoring the last comment, though Clint winked Wade's way playfully, (hey! who was he to pass up on some meaningless fun?), he turned back and began to survey the area.

"You have a problem with this, Steve?" Tony questioned, his eyebrow raised as he stood up to get his laptop, which was conveniently placed on the couch-side table.

Rogers smirked. "As if. You should'a seen the shit I got into pre-serum. If it wasn't for Bu--" Steve's lips closed as he bit his tongue. The group notice this but didn't push it. "If it wasn't for my family, I probably wouldn't be alive." he finished, though his half smile faded off immediately. 

Bruce, bless the man, cleared his throat, snapping the team out of their daze. And then, they set to work, all hovering over in a group to see Stark's every movement.

Thor, however, stayed to the side. His once bright eyes looked somewhat dazed and a thousand yards away ever since the Avenger's makeshift therapy session. Loki stayed by her brother's side too, though. She was unmoving, but her thoughts were set to rapid fire mode.

Since she found out about Thor's first battle, she felt a strong punch to the gut.

It was horrid.

And though there were so many questions swarming in her head, one thought -- that one hideous thought -- kept resurfacing again and again.

"What if Thor felt like how he felt during my death?"

It wasn't mean to come off as narcissistic or anything, Loki can reassure you that much. But when he watched Edward and Peter collapse against each other over their friend MJ, what was it like for Thor to lose Loki?

MJ is just a friend.

Loki is his sibling, no matter how close they are.

The goddess felt like she was going to get sick. Placing her hand over her mouth the slightest, she turned away from the group and vanished. Her eyes became blurred as she reappeared in a bathroom that was off to the side, but she refused to cry.

She wasn't going to cry.

Though she didn't get sick, that feeling in her stomach wasn't going to go away. Not for a long time.

Sighing deeply, she slouched her back for the first time today. Though she was a princess and was taught how to sit royally, she just couldn't keep up this facade she was forced to put up.

Looking into the small, dusty mirror, she concluded that this washroom was hardly used. Swiping her fingers over the mirror, she cleared the dust that blocked her vision and looked at herself.

Her eyes were red, and her face was abnormally pale. Other than that, she looked fine.

But she wasn't fine.

A knock on the door startled her out of her incoming thoughts. Wiping the dust off on a rag, she pinched her cheeks to get some colour in them and opened the door, her usual facial expression placed; bright eyes and a hint of a smile.

But when she opened the door and found Thor on the other side, those were both instantly gone. Clearing her throat, she raised her head to look at her brother. "Thor. What brings you here?"

"I saw you disappear and I fret that something must've been wrong. I'm afraid I'm right," he muttered softly at the girl. "What troubles you sister? Was it something I said?"

Sighing, she opened the door fully for Thor to step in, which he did, and he closed the door behind them. Leaning against the wooden doorway, he watched his sister carefully.

"Actually," Loki breathed, "it was to an extent."

"I think I know what this is about..." Thor inwardly winced. "Listen, sister, I--"

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I..." she sighed for the umpteenth time. "When I died, I hurt you. Norns, you even told me that I hurt you, but I didn't listen. I chose not to listen. When I 'died', I did it to just see if you would mourn me."

"Loki..."

"I did it to see if you would even care," she whispered softly, her eyes reddened as she looked at her brother. "I never meant to hurt you -- but I did and I can't take that back and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, brother."

Thor frowned deeply as he pulled his sibling into a hug, holding her tightly around her waist as Loki wrapped her arms around Thor's neck. "Loki," Thor murmured soothingly. "What you did may have not been the brightest of all things, but I care about you, sister. I will always care about you, no matter what people may say or think. You are my number one, even if father says that you shouldn't be. You are my top priority, and you always have."

For the first time that night, Loki finally stopped holding back her tears. Arms wrapping tighter around Thor, she pulled him in closer. Her cries were muffled by his clothing and were slowly getting wetter by the minute, but he didn't mind.

Sniffing, Loki whispered to her brother. "As you are mine."

Chapter Text

"Can I say it? Can I, can I, can I, ca--"

"Yes! For the love of god SAY IT!"

Wade cleared his throat with a grin. "WE'RE IN, BITCHES!"

Stark rolled his eyes as he began to type quickly on his keyboard. "Doesn't really have the same effect of 'I'm in', but it'll do," Wade said after a moments silence. "Where's Thor and Loki?"

"We're here, mortals. Don't fret." Loki spoke, though their form has changed a bit since they last saw them. Thor was by their side, smiling softly.

"They/Them?" Natasha questioned, looking at Loki's appearance.

"That would be appreciated," they smiled. Nodding her head, Natasha looked back at the computer screen.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony growled from his spot. Banging his hands on the table, a stray coffee pot fell off of the table and splintered into a million pieces on the ground.

"Are you fucking kidding me??" Clint whispered under his breath agast. "Aw, coffee, no."

"What's wrong?" Steve questioned, looking up from his lap and directing his attention towards the electronic.

"The camera was turned the wrong way."

"What?"

"The camera was turned the wrong fucking way!"

Rhodey frowned. "Tony, it's going to be alright. We'll figure out something else," he said, finally speaking up. Sam nodded by his side.

Tony shook his head. "You don't know that. For all we know, we could have just seen MJ's killer, but we didn't because the camera was facing the fucking WALL!" Standing up from his computer, Stark stalked off to the kitchens. The door slamming behind him made even Wade flinch.

"What are we going to do?" Wanda spoke almost silently. "What if we never see Peter again? What if -- what if he, he ends up like his friend?"

"That's not going to happen. Not on my watch." Natasha spoke solemnly, ignoring the way Deadpool's face lit up with pure joy at the so-called 'reference'.

"Should we call Strange up? He could help. oOH! We could have both Sherlock's if we did that! Oh sweet Merlin!"

"Not the time, Wilson." nearly half of the Avengers replied.

"How are you joking in a time like this? Your boyfriend of all things is missing."

"Joking is my coping mechanism."

"Fair enough." Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb.

"What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice shaky and filled with worry.

Sam gave his friend a thin-lipped smile. "What we always do; make a plan and save the day."

The group sat in silence for a moment before Wade spoke up from his spot. Standing up, he walked over towards the hologram (that JARVIS so graciously pulled back up). Staring at the object with a hand on his hip, he devised a mental plan. The Avengers didn't even notice that he wasn't sitting anymore.

Well, that is until Tony entered the room once again. "What are you doing, Deadpool?"

"Forming a plan." Was the gruff reply.

"Really? 'Cause I've heard about your reputation with plans. Believe me, they never work out for you." Tony said with his eyebrows raised.

But what shocked the group was there was no snarky quip back. A bad feeling sunk in the pits of nearly everyone's stomach.

Nearly three minutes passed and Wilson still hasn't made a noise -- nor a movement.

"Okay, first of all, fuck you White, you little asshole. Maybe Yellow is right. Oh, you sonofabitch, take that back." Wade hissed to himself. "Yes, I know they're staring -- yes they think we're craz-- oh you motherfucker."

Wade spun on the heel of his foot to face the circle of confused adults. "This isn't the best plan, and sure as hell doesn't make the Top Ten List of Best Plans Ever, but it's better than what you dingdongs have." 

"What do you have, Wilson?" Rhodes asked.

"Okay, so, like," the merc started. "you know how in horror movies the people starring in them decides to be really dumb and split up?" The group nodded. "Like, who the fuck does that when a murder or scary ass ghost is chasing after them??? I mean, what's their thought process behind that? ''Hey! Let's all split up so we're by ourselves and go and play hide and seek with the murdering ghost boi when there's a front door right in front of our faces!'' God, cliches, man.

"Anyways, like I was saying. We need to split up -- and seeing that there is..." Wade began to count before snapping back to the conversation at hand. "Twelve of us in total, we need to pair off. Me and the Boxes™ have calculated on who works best with who so I'll start listing the pairs."

Clearing his throat, Wade stiffed his posture and pretended to read off of a giant scroll. "First up is the Superhusbands (though I prefer Stucky better. But that's for another timeline, I guess), Captain Sexy and Iron Dad. Next, my second favourite spider and your inamorato. Then, Bruce and Thor (and totallllly not because I have like a stash of fanfictions of you two together under my bed).

"Next we have Vision and Wanda, Wilson 2.0 and Rhodes, leaving Mx Loki with yours truly."

The team begrudgingly moved to their partner's sides, waiting for Deadpool's further instructions -- and why they were even listening in the first place still puzzles Wade.

"We're going to take to the streets. Search every corner and every possible alleyway. Baby boy likes to stalk in the shadows, whether he's out of spandex or not. Tony Stank, Siri-Rip-Off, Rhode Island, and Bald Eagle can take to the sky -- and I guess Hawkdude can too 'cause I know how much he likes being high." Wade giggled at that. "Leaving the rest of ya's on foot."

Sighing, the man stretched his back. "I'm sure it's the same for you guys, but I'm not stopping until I find Peter. I'm just hoping that when we find him, he won't be in a body bag."

Now with a mission in their focus, the team split off to either grab their gear or suit up (and for some, both). Wade sighed when he noticed it was only Thor and Loki left with him, seeing they could just transform into their suits.

Loki glanced towards Wade's direction, and Wade looked towards theirs, the same bad feeling spreading through their body.

God, they hope they wouldn't be too late.

Chapter Text

A young boy walked along the shadows of the ally way, his face obscured by a hoodie thrown over his messy brown hair. Bags decorated his under eyes and his cheeks were painted red from the strong wind.

Peter's been searching for exactly three and a half days. His stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself, and because of his fast metabolism, it probably was. But that was the least of his worries right now.

So far, he had only the tiniest lead on to where the killer had escaped too, and even that wasn't much.

Right about then, Peter tripped over his untied shoe laces. Cursing to himself, he pushed himself up and retied them.

A crack of thunder made itself known in the background and a heavy gust of wind blew his hood back, revealing his face.

Pellets of rain began to pour from the dark skies and lightening lit up the sky like a Christmas tree. Sighing, the boy simply looked up to the sky and closed his eyes, not caring about how soaked his clothes were getting. If he got sick, well.. he probably deserved it.

The wind picked up even more and somehow pushed the teen, his back hitting the cold concrete. A bad feeling settled in his stomach but pushed it away.

Whether it was snowing, hailing, raining, or whatever Mother Nature decided to throw at him, he would find MJ's killer.

Unfortunately, Peter didn't take the bad weather as a sign for what was about to come.

On televisions everywhere, the local news stations were blaring with a siren. "And coming up next, we will be talking with-- wait. I'm getting some news." the news anchor spoke. "A what? I can't hear you -- speak u--"

The news anchors suddenly disappeared from the screen and in place was a blank blue screen.

The lights to all homes and stores flickered as if someone was messing with the power line. The strong wind picked up even more. Children began to cry as a loud siren blared from outside.

"-nado warning!" the tv cut back in. "Please evacuate to somewhere safe, grab your emergency bags, and for the love of god, don't go outside!" 

Chapter Text

Hey friends! 

I know I haven’t updated in actual months, so I thought I should give you all a reason for it.

Lately, my depression has gotten so bad, it’s hard for me to do the simplist of task (like getting out of bed and eating). Recently, everything seems to be a chore. I know it shouldn’t be, but it feels like it. 

I’ve been spending more time with my family, too; trying to throw out my suicidal and impulsive thoughts. It’s worked a bit, but not the best method. 

I’ve been, for a while now, in a constant state of anxiety, depression, and outbursts. My therapist, which I do NOT like (and now I can suddenly remember why I stopped going ages ago) has said that I was basically overreacting and that I wasn’t depressed — which is a big ass lie, but go off I guess. 

Anyways, I’m getting off track. 

Some days are harder than others. Today was hard, but I can feel that tomorrow might be even harder — and hell, who knows. Maybe it’ll be a good day for once. 

But each day, I sit at my phone or laptop and just stare. I think maybe I dissociate sometimes, but I’m not too sure. It’s like I want to write, but I can’t. 

And it’s so frustrating! Because I keep disappointing you guys by not updating. 

But I swear I’m trying my best, and hopefully in the near future I can start updating more frequently — fingers crossed. 

I hope you guys can understand, and if you don’t, I’m sorry.

thank you.

       -remus (@jupiduer)

Chapter Text

hey guys, it's me again.

I just wanted to say thank you for all your support. I've tried my best to reply to all the comments, but I've gotten so many (which was a shocker for me for some reason) that it's hard to reply to all.

I'm still in a dark place, probably a bit darker than before, but I'm trying my best to get better. Some days are rougher than others, and I may have relapsed more than once, but I'm trying my best.

Once again, thank you so much for all the overwhelming support. From someone who's not used to having this much attention/love thrown at, it feels somewhat amazing (is that the right word? idfk but it is what it is).

Anyways, I'm trying my hardest to update more, and hopefully I can finally be able to work/finish some of my fics, but only time will tell.

Again (and sorry if I sound repetitive) thank you.

You have no idea how much this means to me.

-Remus.