Chapter Text
Peter sank back into the couch with a sigh. He’d just come back from a patrol smelling like gasoline, and it wouldn’t wash off even after a shower. His Newfoundland, Millie, hopped up and laid down- right on his chest, seemingly unfazed by the stink. Most people would probably suffocate if a 110 pound animal settled themselves on their chest, but he only laughed and shifted himself to a more comfortable position. Peter was a little stronger than most people.
"Karen, play my 'Taking A Nap' playlist," he said, his eyelids drooping. Millie yawned largely and Peter had no choice but to copy her, his mouth stretching huge. Soft music… and the warmth of Millie’s body… there was nothing for him to do other than fall asleep.
May's keys jangled in the door fifteen minutes later, and Millie jumped off the couch to greet her. She held a grocery bag and a milk jug that she put in the fridge.
"Hey, girl," May cooed. They'd had Millie for quite a while now, and May officially loved her. How could she not? Millie had more of a purpose than just be a dog. Peter needed her the same way she needed him.
Hi, May! Millie wagged. Millie liked May because sometimes she brought a biscuit home. And her boy overflowed with love every time he saw May, so of course she loved anyone that made her boy that happy.
Millie sniffed May's hand. No biscuit today. Disappointed, she trotted back to snuggle with her boy. He’d rolled onto his back, so she carefully lifted herself onto him. Luckily the couch was pretty big, and she laid her ear on his back. She lay there for a while, just enjoying the sound of Peter’s heartbeat and feeling him inhale, exhale, inhale…. Often, this was all she did. Protecting her boy was her most important job, so she would lay on his chest or back, simply listening to his heartbeat and feel him breathing. If either got irregular or too fast, she’d lick his face or, if it got serious, she’d wake him up or get May to help him.
Sometimes, something would click in his brain that Millie could just… feel somehow. This usually happened when he was awake and he’d get out of the way or catch something just in time. Occasionally, it would click while he slept and he’d startle awake, put on his weird-smelling clothes, and jump out the window. She would wait diligently by the window until he came home, and he always did. He’d laugh and tell her, “Just got a sense, girl,” and they would go back to bed. He would always come back smelling different. Now and again, he smelled like blood and hurt, other times like soot and when May would burn the food. At times he’d come back and sob into Millie or May’s shoulder, and those nights were sad. On the bright side, he didn’t go to school the next day. But he was always sad for a bit after.
Just as Millie was drifting off, Peter’s brain clicked. Millie got off him just in time for Peter to shoot off the couch like a bullet, rush to May’s room and fling open the door.
“May, we need to get out!” There was a wild, panicked look in his eye. Millie had never heard him so agitated and urgent, and clearly, neither had May.
“Peter, what’s going on?” He didn’t answer, only gestured wildly for her to come.
“We need to get out, NOW!” The usually quiet and polite boy screamed the sentence, and May jumped off her bed and grabbed her phone off the nightstand.
Millie galloped along with them as they sprinted down the hall. Peter whipped open the stairwell door and ran inside, his suit forming around his body. "Take the stairs, the elevator is too dangerous. Get out of here! I'll meet you outside!"
Confused, May and Millie began to take the stairs but without warning, the fire alarm went off. It excited around the halls as Peter web slung up the stairwell. Millie's ears rang from the loud, piercing noise. Her and May looked at each other, thinking the same exact thing.
They both turned back.
Peter reached the next floor and was met by confused residents rushing out of the door. Once he made sure that everyone was out, he went to the next. The stairwell filled with smoke.
May and Millie helped people out of their apartments, urging them down the stairs.
"Leave them!" May had to shout at an elderly resident trying to bring all her houseplants. She started and dropped them, so May dragged her to the stairwell. Millie barked at everyone, a little girl holding onto her back.
"Karen, how many people?" Peter shouted, smoke filling his lungs. Coughing and yelling echoed around the hall, people stumbling out doors with cloths and rags held to their mouths.
Karen didn't respond.
May resorted to carrying the elderly woman down the stairs. Luckily, she worked out and the woman was like a toothpick. Millie kept pace, the young girl clinging to her fur for dear life. People poured out into the stairwell, which was quickly filling with smoke, making it hard to breath. May's passenger wheezed more than she did.
Peter thought everyone was out.
May thought everyone was out.
Peter made it out a window, safe and sound with May. They didn't address each other beside a glance and a nod acknowledging the fact that they were both okay. Peter was still in his Spider-Man suit, and he started talking to police and fire, helping people who were now watching the building go up in flames. Millie lapped up water from a puddle until some kind paramedics poured water into her mouth, and she played with the little girl she'd carried on her back. Water bottles and blankets were handed out to everyone.
May silently prayed for the old woman, who'd been taken to the hospital. She wasn't extremely religious, but she prayed and went to church on Easter and Christmas. Usually, if May prayed, it was primarily for Peter while he was on patrol, but she thought the case of the elderly woman warranted a prayer.
For a hopeful second everything was fine, disregarding the burning building, then a small face appeared in a window five stories high. It was a young girl, about four, and her fists banged on the window as she screamed for help. May spun wildly around, searching for Peter, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The girl's face, covered with ash, soot, dirt, and streaked with tears, disappeared inside the apartment.
"Spider-Man!" May screamed. People around her picked up the call, until Spider-Man swung overhead, landing on the building outside the girl's window. He pulled back a fist and smashed the glass, crawling inside.
His senses went off like crazy. He could hardly focus, but there was no way he would leave without the girl.
Outside, Millie went wild. She barked louder than ever before, nothing silencing her, because there was something wrong with her boy. No one else knew but her, and she had to do something, anything, but she couldn't. He was alone, and she couldn't bear it.
Peter knew that something was wrong. Something at work here other than the fire.
He could hear Millie barking and baying. Could she sense when his senses went off? He suspected so. They had never been this strong before. Somehow she knew- even outside. They screamed to get out NOW. GO NOW.
But he had to find the girl. The girl, the girl, the girl. He repeated those words in his head- the girl, the girl, the girl. He yelled, coughing, but there was no response.
The image of her small, four year old face was burned into his brain. He MUST get her.
Millie sat and cried, she howled, and nothing could stop her. She ran to the building and tried to jump on it. Two firefighters had to restrain her from going inside. May sat and watched the window where Peter had disappeared. She knew that Millie knew something.
Peter coughed. "Please, I'm here to help! It's Spider-Man!" His lungs filled with smoke. A coughing fit coupled with his senses bursting his head open brought him to his knees. The suit was supposed to filter out smoke, but nothing seemed to be working. Karen was silent and Peter… Peter was dying.
A small cry caught his attention. "Please," the young voice called out. "Please help! My daddy and mommy!"
"I'm coming!" Peter cried. "Stay where you are!"
He made it to the girl crouched beside two bodies. She was trying desperately to revive them, with no luck.
Peter collapsed next to the girl. He didn't know about the two people on the ground, but he knew that he had to get the girl out.
It was all he could do to grab the girl and race towards the window.
Both Millie and May were focused intensely on the window, quickly losing hope. Until a figure launched out of the building, clutching a screaming girl to his chest.
Peter was half unconscious as he fell, and it was all he could do to shield the girl from the ground with his body. They hit the ground and everything went black.
May watched as Peter fell to the ground as if in slow motion. A horrified scream tore her throat when he hit the ground, his life flashed before her eyes. Mary's funeral. Richard getting lowered into the ground. The police knocking on her door to tell her that Ben was killed.
She couldn't go through that again.
Not Peter too, not him, not him, please, not Peter.
When she reached him what seemed like a lifetime later, he was breathing. Barely.
A breath let out that she didn't even realize she was holding.
Peter remembered flying… wait. Flying? That couldn't be right. He couldn't understand.
He coughed violently. He seemed to be doing that a lot. It probably wasn't good. The cool air rushed on Peter's exposed skin. Why was his skin exposed?
He slid in and out of consciousness. Everything was hazy. Did he hear Tony's voice? Why? Nothing made sense.
Peter's head pounded. He knew he was inside, but where? The tower. Stark tower. Mr. Banner was there. Tony was there. Why? What happened?
The next thing he knew, Peter shot up and was immediately held down by three people at his side. "May? What's going on?"
May stroked his face gently. "The girl, Peter. You saved the girl from the fire. You're all right now. She's fine."
Peter put his head back and covered his eyes with his hand. A sob tore through his body, wrenching out his heart.
"No… I couldn't… I failed, May. I failed," he cried. "I didn't… I…" Another sob ripped out of him and May wrapped her arms around him.
"What'd you mean, kid?" Tony asked him gently. "You got the girl. She's fine. Not a scratch on her."
"Her parents," Peter cried. "I couldn't... save them! And now she's an orphan! Because of me!" He broke down in sobs on May's shoulder.
The realization sank in for May and Tony at the same. Tears burned in both of their eyes, both remembering different occasions.
I regret to inform you that your parents died in a car crash.
Richard and Mary were killed in a plane crash. Peter has no one but us now.
Tears wet Peter's shirt, and the same for May's. They held onto each other for a long time, and eventually Millie joined them ("I couldn't hold her back any longer," an exasperated Bruce Banner said).
"Oh baby, baby," May said softly, rubbing circles on his back. He hiccuped and buried his face deeper in her shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault."
Millie whined as if to agree with her. She nuzzled into her boy's stomach. I love you, was all she was really saying. My boy is sad. Why is he qsad? She wondered. Millie licked his face. Don't be sad.
The small family stayed there for a long time, caught in each other's embrace until Peter fell asleep.
Peter found the girl in a foster home. Her name was Athena, Atty for short. He visited as Spider-Man, to check up on her and give the foster kids a morale boost. He looked at the kids and realized that he could’ve been one of them… one parental figure away. But he kept a smile in his voice for Athena. She was thrilled at the sight of her own personal hero. She gave him a hug and he noticed that something... wasn’t quite right.
It killed him to swing away from her.
“How’d it go?” May asked him gently when he got back to the tower where they were staying. He sighed and picked up the toast she’d made for him, tossing the crusts to Millie.
“She almost blew her gasket when she saw Spider-Man looking for her . The other kids were thrilled, too,” Peter said dully, barely nibbling at the toast, not per usual.
May put a hand on his shoulder. “So what’s wrong?”
He set down his toast hard and stood up, pacing. It was a bit unnerving for both May and Millie to see Peter agitated like this. Last time it happened, their apartment building burned down.
"There's something off," he said. "I can't explain it, but every time I get near that girl- Athena, Atty, is her name... my senses twinge. Not a lot, but it's like they're saying there's something different about her."
"That is weird." A voice said from the doorway.
Tony stood there, leaning on the frame. He stepped inside. "I was coming to check on you and see how you were settling in."
"There's something off," Peter adamantly repeated to him. "The girl hasn't a scratch on her- I saw her walk right through fire, and she wasn't even fazed."
“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” was all Tony had to say.
“Her name is Athena Marie Labelle, she is four years old, born May 28, 2014. Her parents were Laura and Andrew Labelle, both currently deceased.” Peter bit his lip and looked down at the last statement.
An image of the girl projected onto the wall. Peter smiled at her smiling face and curly hair. But he noticed something.
“Look, there,” he pointed to her deep brown eyes.
“Um, pretty?” May said. “Is there something wrong with them?
Peter pulled out his phone. "Look at this picture I took with her." He zoomed in on her eyes.
They were accented with gold, a partial outline on the bottom of her left eye and a broken ring around her right. Her left had a few scattered flecks of gold throughout.
"They're different," May breathed. Millie barked.
"Yeah," Tony said, his brow furrowing. Peter studied his face- he knew that look. There were wheels turning in that genius brain of his.
"FRI, pull up Athena's parent's files. Was there anything strange going on with them?"
"There is nothing out of the ordinary on their public files. Would you like me to dig deeper?"
"As deep as humanly (robotly?) possible."
A pause. The tension in the room grew thick as they awaited the AI's answer. "They were both registered mutants."
Peter felt as though a brick wall had hit him. Mutants?
"What, um… what could they do?"
"Laura's abilities file has been wiped clean, and there is no record of anything she could do. Andrew had fire manipulation and impenetrable skin."
"That explains it." Tony hit his hand on the table, startling Millie, and chewed on a fingernail. "That's why she doesn't have a scratch on her."
Peter sat down on a chair hard. He looked up at Tony slowly as the realization of what he was implying hit him.
"Are you saying that Atty is a mutant?"