Archive of Our Own ^beta

Peter sighed as he adjusted his grip on his backpack. Three days. It had been three days since he had taken down the Vulcan, and his ribs had finally finished healing. Three days of lying to his aunt about why he was spending most of his time on the couch, gingerly protecting his side. 

Three days without any word from Mr. Stark. 

Well, whatever. Peter didn’t need the great Tony Stark to be Spiderman. He’d proven that three days ago, and he wasn’t planning on giving up now. Instead of patrolling at night, Peter had been staying up late fixing his old suit. And after May left on her night shift tonight, he was planning on taking it out for a spin. 

Spiderman was back, and Peter couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he jumped the last few steps up to their apartment. 

“Hey, I’m home!” Peter called as he stepped inside, throwing his bag down beside the door. May didn’t answer. She wasn’t sitting on the couch with her feet up like she usually was when Peter got home. He frowned, grabbing an apple as he walked past the kitchen towards her room. “May? Decathlon finished early, Mr. Harrington had a dentist appointment or something and didn’t want us at the school without him. I thought we could get Chinese before your… shift…” 

May wasn’t in her bedroom either. 

“That’s weird,” Peter pulled his phone out of his pocket, but he didn’t have messages from her. He went back to the kitchen, but there wasn’t a note. He called her cell as he took a bite of the apple. 

It went straight to voicemail. 

“Hey, I’m home early. Thought we could have dinner before your shift but I guess you went in already? Um, see you tonight. Love you.” 

He hung up and stared down at his phone for a minute, kind of expecting her to call back. She always answered her phone when he called, unless she was at work… and she always made sure to tell him when her shifts were changed, no matter what. 

He hoped everything was okay. 

Peter tried to push aside the uneasy feeling as he finished his apple and went back to the kitchen for more food. He didn’t succeed. By the time someone knocked on the door half an hour later, Peter had already called May two more times, leaving increasingly worried messages. 

He was still looking down at his phone when he answered the door, ready to tell whoever was selling something this time they weren’t interested. He usually talked to them for a bit, cause he always felt bad for turning them down, but he didn’t have time for it this time. He was about to call the hospital to make sure May was actually there. 

“Are you Peter Parker?” 

Peter looked up, confused, to find two people standing in the doorway. Sales people didn’t know his name, so who were they? He hoped they weren’t sent from SHIELD or something… or, he hoped he was able to check in on May first before whatever mission he had to go on. 

Cause a SHIELD mission would be awesome . 

Though they didn’t really look like SHIELD… unless SHIELD agents now worse sweater vests?

“Uh, yeah?” 

A woman dressed in a green sweater vest with thick rimmed glasses gave him a soft smile, “my name is Angelica Thompson, and this is my partner Jeff Gil. We’re from social services. Would you mind if we came in to talk to you?” 

Peter’s grip on the door tightened. No, he did not want social services coming in to talk to him. They’d had to deal with them enough after his parents died, and they had had inspection after inspection to insure his aunt and uncle were ‘good enough’ for Peter. Like a low income family couldn’t look after their own kid without the government breathing down their necks. 

It was bullshit. Or at least, that’s what Peter had heard Ben and May say after every meeting. 

“My aunt’s not home,” Peter said, not moving an inch. “You can come back tomorrow-” 

“We’re here to talk about your aunt,” the man said. He didn’t have a soft smile for Peter. If anything, he looked bored. 

Peter didn’t like where this was going. 

“What about my aunt?” Peter frowned at them, “May’s a great guardian. I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but she’s great. She-”

“Peter,” Angelica cut him off. “No one is saying May is a bad guardian. Can we come in to talk about this, please?” 

Peter looked between them. Jeff was looking down the hall, but Angelica was looking at him with sad eyes. 

Why did she have sad eyes? 

“If it’s not about her being my guardian, why are you here?” Peter was starting to get an idea as to why they were here, but he didn’t want to be. He was wrong. He needed to be wrong. The universe wasn’t cruel enough to take a fourth parent away from him. “Where’s May? Is she…  she’s okay, right?” 

Angelica wet her lips, glanced at Jeff. She hesitated. 

Peter knew why. 

“No.” Peter stumbled back, away from the door. Angelica and Jeff moved inside as soon as he was away, like hunters cornering their prey. “No, you’re wrong, you have the wrong person. May’s fine. She-” 

Jeff caught his arm before he fell, and Peter figured that was why he was here. He was the brawns while Angelica was the brains. 

Well fuck them, they were both horrible at their job. They had the wrong person. 

“Peter,” Angelica said, her voice calm. “Your Aunt May was in a car accident this morning. The doctors did all they could, but she passed away this afternoon-” 

“No, she didn’t, you’re wrong .” Peter snapped, but he knew she wasn’t. He knew May had gone out this morning for coffee with a friend, and had been planning to buy some groceries on her way home. 

They didn’t have any more groceries, that’s why Peter had eaten three apples. May had never come back home. 

May was never going to answer her phone, no matter how many times he called it. 

Jeff pulled him to the couch as his legs gave out, and Angelica sat beside him. She whispered comforting words that meant nothing to him. 

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice hollow. 

A hesitant pause, always with the hesitant pause. What more was she could she possibly be holding back? His last relative was dead, there wasn’t any other bad news she could give. 

“Peter, your Aunt didn’t survive the accident. She-”

“Yeah, I get it, she’s dead,” Peter cut her off, he didn’t need to hear the news again. “I’m not delusional, or in denial, or whatever, I just- where is she? Can I see her?” 

Another pause. What was with these two, couldn’t they talk like normal people? 

“Peter, do you know of any other family you two might have?” Angelica asked. “Another aunt, maybe? Or did May have any siblings?” 

Peter shook his head, what did that have to do with anything? “No, it was just us. Just the two of us. There is no one else.” 

“Okay,” Angelica put her hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away. 

“When can I see her?” 

“Peter, I know this is hard for you, but you have to understand-” 

“When can I see her?” Peter asked again, louder this time. 

Angelica didn’t answer, her eyes darted to Jeff. Peter’s did too. 

“You can’t see her.” Jeff said. His voice detached, like he didn’t care that he was landing the final blow on Peter’s life. Like he was ruining everything with his short, sloppy, sentences. Like he ruined lives every day. 

Fuck, he probably did. 

“Why not?” 

“Your a minor, you can’t see her without a guardian present. Since you don’t have any family, you’re going to be placed in a guardians care until you’re of legal age. You can talk about it with them. If you’re ready, we’ll help you pack a bag and bring you there now. We have a family waiting for you.” 

“What?” This was all happening too fast, it was too much. “What do you mean, where are you taking me?” 

“We’re taking you to a very nice family who will take good care of you, Peter,” Angelica said. Peter wondered if she was new at this, she was pretty bad at it. She said his name a lot, and it was getting creepy. “Sue has helped a lot of foster children like you-” 

Foster. Peter was being taken into the foster system , of course he was. Without May, he had no where else to go. He’d never thought of that before. 

It was too late to think of another plan now. 

“But what about May? What’s going to happen to her?” 

Angelica licked her lips again, she clearly had no answers for him. He turned to Jeff. 

“She’s going to be cremated at the hospital, and then held at a government office for up to a year until someone claims her remains.” 

Her remains. Claim her remains . Peter blinked back tears, “but, what if no one claims her? I’m not eighteen for three more years, I can’t-” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that now, Peter, you have plenty of time to think about it.” Angelica said. “Let’s get you packed for right now, okay?” Angelica was already standing, looking for his bedroom. What were they going to do, pack him a fucking overnight bag? Their apartment was small, but he couldn’t pack it all into a suitcase. 

And it didn’t seem like they had time to do that, even if he could. 

“What’s going to happen to all our stuff?” He asked Jeff. He didn’t move to help Angelica pack. He didn’t care what she chose for him. 

It didn’t matter anyway. Without May, nothing here mattered.

“It will be put in a storage unit until it’s claimed for up to a month, and then it will be put up for sale in an auction. If your aunt has any living relatives over the age of eighteen, they can decide to do something else with it.” Jeff, for the first time, gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, but most kids don’t see their stuff again. I would pack what I could now, if I were you.” 

Jeff stood up and walked over to the fire place. There was a picture of Peter there, standing between May and Ben. Jeff brought it back and held it out to him. “Most people don’t remember the pictures until it’s too late.” 

Peter took the picture from him, stared down at it numbly. He must have stared down at it for a long time, because the next thing he knew, Angelica was pushing a bag into his hand. She held another one on her shoulder. 

“I packed what I could, hopefully you’ll get the chance to get the rest later,” Angelica said, giving him a tight smile. 

Jeff had just told him otherwise. Angelica was apparently either a liar, or an idiot. 

Peter didn’t care, either way. It didn’t matter. 

He followed the two of them out the door, to the car waiting downstairs. 

He only looked back once. The picture still held tight in his hand. 

--

At the house they pulled up to a very round faced woman stood by the front door and smiled at Peter as he was led up the path. She introduced herself as Sue, and called for a boy named Dan to carry Peter’s bags up to the attic room. 

She brought him into the house, and Jeff and Angelica drove away. Angelica said she would see him later. Jeff didn’t say anything. Peter prefered Jeff. 

Sue lead Peter around the house, showing him the kitchen, the living area, the main floor of bedrooms, and then the stairs that lead up to his bedroom. She apologized, but she already had four other boys staying with her right now, and that was the only other space available. 

Peter shrugged, he didn’t care. 

The day passed it a blur. Peter met the four other boys, Dan, William, Prahb, and Joe. He met Sue’s husband, Archie. He was told the rules of the house, including curfew and meal times. He was told about the new school he was going to go to, starting tomorrow. He was told that, unfortunately, they didn’t have time to take him to see May.

He stopped listening to what they were saying, after that. 

Peter sat through a dinner where he barely touched the food, before he was finally able to get up to the bedroom that was now his. It was small, and cold. A small twin bed sat against one wall, and a dresser against the other. The stairs took up half the room. 

Peter didn’t care. He shoved his bags under his bed, and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. 

As his eyes fell closed, he wished he could wake up in his own bed, with May singing offkey in the kitchen. He wished this was all a dream. 

He knew it wasn’t. He knew he would wake up to the cold attic, and the sound of unknown feet walking around downstairs. 

Tears slipped out, fell into his hair. He kept his eyes closed. 

Sleep was slow to come, but it took him away from this nightmare eventually. 

--

Peter woke up to a dead phone. He didn’t know if Angelica had packed his charger, but he didn’t check. 

He didn’t need his phone, anyway. May wasn’t around to keep tabs on him anymore, to care if he would be out late or not. No one was around to care anymore. 

He left his phone on the bed when he went downstairs. 

Breakfast was chaos, and Peter was mostly swallowed by it. He followed the other foster kids as they shoved food in their mouths and ran out the door. He followed them onto an unfamiliar bus, that drove to an unfamiliar school. He followed them until Dan put a hand on his shoulder and pointed him to the front office. 

Right, he couldn’t follow them forever. He had his own classes to attend, apparently. 

The front office didn’t seem surprised to have a new student halfway through a semester. They gave him his time table and a map, and sent him on his way. 

He had been placed in a math course he’d already taken, a senior English class, and two random electives. 

Peter didn’t bother going to any of the classes. He had better things to do. 

The map said they had a computer lab on it, but when Peter arrived he doubted the name. There were only four computers here, and two of them had broken screens. No one else was around though, so he sat down at the first one. 

It didn’t start. 

The second one did, though the screen was fuzzy. 

Peter didn’t care, he cared more about what he was using the computer for. 

May Parker didn’t bring anything up in the news. He had to search ‘New York Car Accident’ and scroll through the results. 

When Peter finally found it, his blood was already boiling. A woman had died, his life had been shattered, and it was only mentioned in a two paragraph article, barely even enough information to know if it was actually about May or not? 

A woman was hit while crossing the street at a busy intersection yesterday morning. The driver, whose name has not been announced, was suffering from a medical emergency at the time of the accident. Police have stated that, while there will be an investigation, charges will most likely be dropped. 

The woman, a New York born nurse, succumbed to her injuries she received from the accident a few hours later. She will be greatly missed by her family and friends. 

Peter stared blankly at the computer, rage building inside of him. They didn’t even say her name. They didn’t know her family or friends, who were they to talk about him like that? What the fuck did they know? 

And on top of that, on top of the burning shit pile that had become of his life, the charges were most likely to be dropped? 

The man had killed May! Had been caught doing it! Peter didn’t care if he had been in the middle of having a fucking heart attack, he had killed another person! They couldn’t just- they couldn’t let that- 

Peter ran a hand over his face. Tried to calm his breathing. 

If the police weren’t going to do anything about it, Peter definitely was. 

--

Peter wasn’t as good as Ned at hacking into things. He was more into building machines, writing code, that sort of thing, but that didn’t mean he was incapable. 

It would have helped if he had a better computer too, but it didn’t matter. By the end of the school day Peter had gotten in, and found the police report on May’s ‘car accident’. He had a name, Richard Whittemore. He had an address. 

That’s all he needed. 

--

That night he ate without tasting the food again. He helped wash the dishes, because there was a chore chart and it was his turn. He said he would try to remember to check that, but knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t care enough to check a stupid chore chart. 

He had more important things to do. 

When he finally made it upstairs, he dumped the bags Angelica had packed for him. It was mostly jeans, his boxers, T-shirts. A black hoodie that he didn’t remember owning, but that he pulled on now. 

She had remembered to pack his charger. He threw it beside his phone, but left it there. He still didn’t have any reason to use his phone. 

He had the address written down in his pocket, as well as a google maps rough sketch. The printer had been broken, and he hadn’t remembered the address to the foster house anyway. He’d have to find the school and go from there. 

In Queen’s he would have been able to find it without some weird, crappy, map, but he wasn’t in Queens. He wasn’t anywhere in New York that he recognized. He was in the outskirts of the city, alone and forgotten. 

He pulled up his hood and climbed out the window. 

He doubted they would think to check on him. Most teenage boys wouldn’t try to climb out of the third story window to the concrete sidewalk. 

Peter Parker was not most teenage boys. 

-- 

Peter meant to do it quickly. He meant to find the address, pull the guy out, and then… do what he had to do. Finish fast and make it back before anyone noticed him missing. 

He had meant to do that, that had been his plan, but he was getting side tracked. A lot. 

There was more crime here than in Queen’s, it was kind of distracting. 

An hour after he left the house, Peter had finally oriented himself and started making his way along the map he’d made. It was then that he’d walked right past a guy getting mugged. 

The mugger didn’t even have a gun. And he was doing it right under a streetlamp. Like, it was literally the worst mugging job Peter had ever seen. If it hadn’t been so easy to fight the guy off, he might not have stopped to do it. 

As it was, all Peter had to do was walk up beside him and punch him in the face. The guy went down, hard. The girl ran off, without even a thank you. 

Whatever, Peter was used to it. 

He stared down at the mugger, his face covered by a bandana and his eye already swelling from Peter’s punch. At least he had covered his face, he hadn’t been a complete idiot. Peter usually had his mask to cover his own face for things like this, but Angelica, unsurprisingly, hadn’t packed his makeshift Spiderman outfit. He should probably cover his face for… whatever he was planning to do tonight. 

And the guys bandana was red. 

Peter slipped it off the man’s face, and tied it onto his own, pulling it up to cover everything but his eyes. He left the man there, alone on the sidewalk. He’d be fine. 

It had just gotten more complicated from there. 

He stopped another mugging a few blocks down. Then pulled a man off a woman, not caring that he broke his arm in the process. That woman had thanked him as she ran away. 

Peter hadn’t done it for the thanks. 

He stopped a man from stealing a car a few blocks after that, and then stopped some kid from stealing a bike two blocks later. 

This place was insane. Peter was starting to wonder how anyone lived here. 

By the time he made it halfway there, Peter saw the time in a store window. Five AM. It was too late to make it all the way there, do… something, and then all the way back. The people he was living with were oblivious, but they would probably notice if he wasn’t downstairs for breakfast in two hours. 

He had to make it back by then. 

Peter growled, turning around to make his way back to the house. 

Tomorrow. He would make it there tomorrow. 

--

Peter did not make it there the next night. Or the night after that, or the night after that. Criminals were out of control in this part of the city, and Peter couldn’t stop himself from helping. 

Though, he wasn’t helping the same way he used to. He felt like he should maybe feel bad for the way he was treating the criminals here, but he didn’t. Bad people deserve bad things anyway. 

He didn’t wonder what May would think about it. May hadn’t even known about Spider Man… it was useless to wonder what she would think of him now. 

It didn’t matter anyway. May was gone. 

He broke a man’s leg, the second night he was out here, because he had a girl pinned against a wall and a hand over her mouth. He spat that she was a hooker, but Peter didn’t care. No one deserved that. 

He broke a woman’s nose when he found her beating the shit out of her own kid. 

He broke a man’s wrist when he was trying to run away with an old lady’s purse. The woman was dressed in nursing scrubs, and Peter could almost picture May, as an older woman, walking home alone after her shift only to have some guy steal her purse from her. 

Peter also broke that guy's nose. 

Every night he went out and made it a bit closer to Whittemore’s house, and every night he had to turn back before he made it there. 

He spent his days sleeping on different desks at school. He didn’t think he was missing much. 

Sue was a nice woman, but she was too busy with everyone else to worry about him. Peter came to meals on time, came home from school on time, and did the chores when he was told to. 

No one noticed that Peter never spent a full night in the house. Or if they did, they didn’t care. 

That was fine. Peter didn’t care about them either. 

--

A week and four days, that’s how long it took for Peter to make it to Whittemore’s house. 

It was small. Smaller than Peter expected, but in a slightly nicer neighborhood. Peter didn’t have as many criminals to beat up once he got a few blocks of this place. 

Inside Peter could see an old man, sitting in front of a TV. There was an old woman beside him too. He figured this was Richard Whittemore and his wife. Both of them looked like they had fallen asleep in front of the TV. They had a nice, quiet, evening in, while Peter was left out here. Alone. With nothing. 

And May had been left dead. 

He still didn’t know for sure what he was going to do when he got his hands on Whittemore, but he was going to do it. Tonight was the night. It was only two AM. He had plenty of time to get back before breakfast. 

He just had to get started. 

He kicked down the door. 

There was a scream inside, and Peter had a second to feel bad about that before he shook it off and started making his way forward. He would drag Whittemore somewhere else, away from his wife, and then do… it. 

His wife wasn’t involved in this. 

Before he made it past the doorway though, Peter suddenly felt arms wrap around him. And then he was flying. 

Peter let out a shout when he was lifted up and up, away from the house that had taken him a week and four days to get to. Away from his revenge. He hit the medal arms holding him, but they didn’t let go. 

Not until they were miles away, when they dropped him down on a high-rise rooftop. 

“Mr. Stark, what the hell are you doing?” Peter whirled on him, pulling down his bandana and pulling off his hood. “I was just about to-” 

“Just about to what , exactly?” Mr. Stark cut it, his face plate pulling up to show a furious Tony Stark. Peter didn’t care, his anger had been growing for a week and four days. His anger had morphed into a rage he didn’t know could exist in a person’s body. 

Tony Stark’s anger meant nothing to him. 

“It’s none of your fucking business, what I was about to do,” Peter spat at him. “It took me a week and a half to find that house, and you pulled me away! For what? Another trip to Germany? No thanks, I’m busy, now take me back.” 

Mr. Stark’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t make a move to carry him back down. “I’m not here to take you on a mission, I’m here to ask you what the hell you’ve been doing. The reports on the ‘red bandana’ vigilante are growing high, and I have to say I’m pretty unimpressed. I didn’t want to think it was you, but come on. Spider Man disappears, and the ‘Red Bandana’ shows up? That’s not a coincidence. You’re work has been sloppy, and kind of barbaric? I didn’t think that was your style, Pete. I didn’t give you back the suit for you to do a complete 180 on me.” 

Peter frowned, confused. Mr. Stark hadn’t given him back the suit, he had no idea what he was talking about. That’s not what was important right now though. What was important was getting back to that house so that he could finally do something for May. 

“I’m not the Red Bandana.” Mr. Stark raised a hand to point to his bandana, and Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m wearing one, sure, whatever. But I’m not the Red Bandana, I’m not Spider Man, I’m not anything. I’m just Peter Parker, trying to get to that house. Now can you take me back there? I need to… I need to get back there.” 

He was begging, he knew he was begging, and Peter didn’t know what his face looked like, but Mr. Starks fury was slowlying morphing into concern. Peter turned away, talking to Mr.Stark was going to get him nowhere. He tried to find a door down.

There wasn’t one. 

“Why?” Mr.Stark asked a beat later, “what did that nice old couple do?” 

Nice old couple, right. Peter was the bad guy here. He ran a hand through his hair, “fuck this, I don’t need you. I’ll make it back on my own.” 

He made his way to the edge, prepared to jump. 

“Peter, your not wearing your web shooters.”

Peter didn’t reply, he was already jumping. He had a hand reached out to grip the wall, slow his fall enough that he could climb down the rest of the way… but he didn’t even make it to his hand touching the wall. 

Mr. Stark carried him back to the rooftop. He didn’t let go of his arm this time. 

“We are twenty stories up, are you insane?!” Mr. Stark was looking at him like he’d never seen him before. 

This was eating up a lot of his time. 

“Then fly me back down!” 

“No, I’m not letting you break into the jeriatric ward to beat up the elderly. It doesn’t matter what they did, kid, it’s not worth killing yourself over. Or going to jail.” 

“It doesn’t matter what they did?” Peter pulled on the arm holding onto him, he felt the fingers start to give. He pulled harder “You don’t know what they did, you don’t know anything ! Let me go!”

“No, I don’t think I will. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” The grip readjusted, stronger than before, and Peter felt his chances of getting out of here slipping away from him. 

That’s when he started fighting for real. 

“Woah, woah, okay,” Mr. Stark’s faceplant fell back into place when one of Peter’s fists flew too close. “Pete, calm down. I don’t want to hurt you, I just- I don’t understand. What is going on? First you take down Toomes, and then you change your mind about Spider Man entirely? I give you back the suit, and you never put it on. Instead you choose to beat the shit out of these low lifes? What changed in two weeks?” 

“Everything!” Peter shouted, finally pushing out of Mr. Stark’s hold. “Everything’s changed!” 

“Okay,” Mr. Stark held his hands up in surrender, like Peter was a wild animal. “Okay, walk me through it, what’s everything?” 

“It’s- it’s just everything,” Peter said lamely, he didn’t have the energy to do this. It had taken him a week and four nights to find the house. A week and a half of fighting the bad guys, of getting no sleep, of barely eating, and his choice of whatever he was going to do there had been taken from him before he had even stepped inside. Peter knew that Mr. Stark wasn’t going to let me go back. He wasn’t going to get his chance to face the man that killed May. That chance had slipped through his fingers, gone because he had taken too long to get there. 

And without that… he was just tired. 

“Kid-”

“All our stuff is in some storage unit somewhere,” Peter said, it was the first thing he thought of. “I live with four other boys, and I don’t think any of them know my name.” He sniffed. “They won’t even let me see her, because minors aren’t allowed to claim human remains and they won’t- and she’s just- she’s just stuck in there alone and I can’t do anything for her I-” 

Arms wrapped around him again, but this time they weren’t restricting. This time it was more like a hug. Peter leaned into it, even if he didn’t bring his own arms up. 

He was just so tired. 

“I’m sorry, Pete. I didn’t know.” Peter didn’t say anything, Mr. Stark sighed.“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Peter shook his head, “why would I?” 

The arms around him tightened, and then they shifted. Peter found himself being carried again, but he didn’t fight it this time. 

He’d learned that he didn’t have very much control over his life anyway. 

-- 

He slept in Mr. Stark’s tower that night. He was too tired to wonder what would happen if he didn’t show up at Sue’s kitchen table the next morning, and if he was being honest, he really didn’t care. 

He doubted social services would start looking for him at Tony Stark’s house. At the very least he could get some rest before he had to deal with everything. 

And god, he just wanted some rest. 

--

Peter woke up to the smell of bacon. He sat up, momentarily confused as to where he was and whose sweatpants he was wearing- before it all came back to him. 

The fight on the rooftop. Mr. Stark finding out about… everything. Peter almost breaking into the Whittemore house. 

May. 

Peter pushed all of that to the side, and got up. He wandered out and into the hall, following the smell until he made it to the kitchen. 

Mr. Stark was standing at the stove, cooking bacon and buttering toast. Pepper Potts sat at the counter, a pile of paperwork in front of her. They both looked up when Peter walked in. Peter suddenly felt very underdressed. They were both dressed, ready for the day. Peter didn’t even know where his clothes were. 

“Morning, kiddo. Thought this might wake you up. Pull up a stool, grubs almost done.” Mr. Stark turned back around, leaving Peter to figure out how he was supposed to ‘pull up a stool’ beside Pepper Potts . 

He walked forward awkwardly, but his fears were short lived. Ms. Potts pulled out a stool for him as he approached, right beside her. 

“Good morning Peter, I’m Pepper. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Peter climbed into the chair, feeling slightly gobsmacked that Pepper Potts knew his name. “Hi-hi Ms. Potts, I’m Peter.” 

Ms. Potts smiled at him, Mr. Stark snorted, “she knows, kid, she just said your name.” 

Oh god. Peter could feel his face heat up, but Ms. Potts, once again, came to his rescue. “Leave him alone, Tony, he just woke up. How are you, Peter? Did you sleep well?” 

Peter blinked. He realized that he hadn’t just slept in Mr. Stark’s spare room, but Pepper Potts spare room. They live together. And he had walked out wearing nothing but sweatpants because he hadn’t even thought about that. 

This was absolutely mortifying. 

“Kid, you okay?” Mr. Stark asked, as he pushed a plate piled high in front of him. 

“Uh, yeah. Yes. I’m fine. I slept fine, thank you.” Peter stared down at his food. “You didn’t… you didn’t have to do all this.” 

Mr. Stark chuckled. “Pete, the last time I saw you eat you ate four double cheeseburgers in one sitting. I know how much foot you need, and it looks like you haven’t been eating it. You’re getting too scrawny for my liking. This is nothing. Expect the same from all meals, here on out.” 

Peter’s head jerked up, his brow furrowed. “Um, I’m pretty sure Sue will be expecting me to show up eventually, I can’t keep eating here. Not that- not that I don’t appreciate it, but… I don’t know if Sue can afford-” 

“Don’t worry about Sue, I dealt with all that. Happy’s picking up your stuff now.” 

Peter blinked, confused. “But I- she was my… I don’t think you can-” 

“I can, and I did. Got it all squared away with social services too. I’m your new, official, temporary legal guardian as of,” Mr. Stark checked his watch, “45 minutes ago.” 

“Oh.” Peter looked back down at his food. Apparently, social services really didn’t care about him at all. They didn’t even want to see physical evidence that Mr. Stark had him, they just cared that he had signed all the right papers. Great. 

And Sue hadn’t cared enough to check on him either. Peter didn’t know why he had expected differently. 

“Peter?” Ms. Potts leaned forward, tried to catch his eye. Peter kept his eyes on the food. “I know this is all really sudden, but I promise that Tony and I just want what’s best for you. You can tell us if any of this is making you uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s… fine. Thank you, Ms. Potts. Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Stark.” 

There was an awkward silence. Peter started eating his food. 

“Anytime, kiddo,” Mr. Stark finally said. “They’re going to want to talk to you, eventually, when we make this a… uh, non-temporary solution. But I bought us a week.” 

“Okay,” Peter whispered. 

“Think about what you want, Peter,” Ms. Potts said. “I know you don’t have any family left, but if there’s a family friend or anything. A friend of yours or May’s, maybe, that you would prefer to stay with? We can help make that happen. We just want you to be where you feel most comfortable.” 

A friend? May had a few friends that came over sometimes, but they were never… they wouldn’t take Peter in, and he would never expect them to. He thought about Ned, briefly, but his parents had never liked Peter anyway. That’s why they always hang out at Peter’s house. 

“There isn’t anyone else,” Peter said, his eyes glued to the toast in his hand.

“Okay, well. That’s fine, sweetie. That’s...” 

“That’s okay, kid,” Mr. Stark said. “We’re not going anywhere.” 

It was the last any of them said anything, until Peter finished his plate of food. He moved to wash it, my Mr. Stark took it from him. “Why don’t you go wash up? You look like a greaser from the 1950’s.” 

“What?” 

“You look- your hair is gross, bud, go shower.” Mr. Stark sighed, before pushing him back, turning him back to the hallway. “There's a bathroom in your room, everything you need should already be there.” 

“My… room?” 

“The one you slept in last night, genius.” 

Oh. Peter retraced his steps, ignoring the feeling of eyes on his back. He found his way to the room he had been in this morning, and was surprised to find it did look like a room he would live in. There were Star Wars posters on the walls, and a bookshelf full of comics. There was a TV on the far wall, and three separate gaming systems attached to it. There was a desk with a laptop already on it. It was everything he would have wanted, but.. None of it was his. 

His games weren’t by the TV. His laptop wasn’t on the desk. There weren’t pictures of him and May beside his bed. There wasn’t any lego him and Ned had built together. 

The room was perfect for the average teenage boy, but Peter didn’t feel like it was for him… He wondered when Mr. Stark had made this room. Maybe it was for any teenager that happened to be staying with him. 

No, that would be weird… though, Mr. Stark was kind of weird. 

Peter stepped into the room and found the door to the bathroom easily. Inside, the bathroom was huge. Bigger than the bathroom he used to have to share with May and Ben, and then just May. 

Now it was just him, and he had a bathroom the size of his bedroom back home.

Peter swallowed down the strange feeling that brought up. This was going to take some getting used to. 

-- 

Peter showered. He opened the closet in the bedroom to find it full of clothes, and pulled on the first ones he saw. They fit him perfectly. 

Not that it mattered. 

Clean and dressed, Peter wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do. It was Thursday, but Mr. Stark hadn’t mentioned school so Peter wasn’t going to. The school he went to now was useless anyway. 

He lay down on the bed, like he had done in the attic room. He stared up at the ceiling. 

He thought about May. 

Peter didn’t know how long he lay on the bed. Sometimes, he caught bits of what was happening around the tower. He heard the water rush through the pipes. The elevator woosh through the walls. Friday comment on the arrival of a guest. 

“How’s the kid? ” he heard Happy ask. He didn’t hear the reply. He didn’t try to. 

“Are we really sure about this? ” He heard Ms. Potts ask, later. 

“As sure as I am about anything,” Mr. Stark replied. “I’m not letting him stay in care, Pep, I won’t do that to him.” 

“Okay. Then I’m in too.” 

He heard May, in his head. “It’s just the two of us now. The two of us against the world.”  

But it wasn’t. It was just him against the world. 

Alone. 

-- 

Mr. Stark knocked on his door to invite him to dinner. Ms. Potts had cooked. 

It looked better than anything they had served at Sue’s house. It looked better than anything May had ever been able to make. 

Peter didn’t taste any of it. 

--

He couldn’t lie in bed and stare at the ceiling anymore. He had to get out. He had to get back to the house. 

He had to do something for May. 

Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts had gone to bed hours ago, so Peter didn’t think it would be that hard to sneak out. He pulled the hoodie and the bandana on again. He tried to open the window in his room. 

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Friday said above him. “Boss has made it very clear that you are not allowed to leave the building without supervision.” 

Peter huffed. He glared at the window, considered breaking it but shook that idea off. If he broke it, Mr. Stark would be in here a second later, and Peter wouldn’t be able to sneak off. 

He wouldn’t be able to get back to the house. 

“Friday,” Peter turned to the door. “Is there a staircase here? For emergencies?” 

“Yes. It is located beside the elevator. However, it is currently locked because you are not allowed to leave-”

“Even if it was an emergency? You would keep the door locked even if this place was on fire?” 

A pause. “I detect no fire in the tower.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, “this is a different kind of emergency. Whatever, I bet I can break the door without everyone noticing.” He made his way out of the room, but froze in place when he saw Iron Man standing in the hallway outside his door. 

“Mr. Stark? What-” 

“Boss has made several contingency plans to keep you inside of the tower, Peter. It is recommended you go back to bed.” 

Peter eyed the suit, thinking. “So, wait, Mr. Stark isn’t actually in there?” 

“Not currently. It is recommended-” 

Peter didn’t waste time to think about going back to bed. 

He ran. 

He figured he could outrun an empty suit, especially one that looked like it wasn’t even turned on. 

The suit reached out to grab him as he passed, so turns out it was on, but Peter was faster. And he had the ability to walk on walls. He scrambled up and out of its reach, running along the ceiling towards the elevator. 

He heard the jets, swerved right when the suit tried to grab him. He jumped off the ceiling, and almost made it to the door when another suit flew in front of him, both arms out to grab him. He tried to swerve out of the way again, but it was too close, it caught his arm. The first one came up and grabbed his other one. 

The boiling rage Peter had felt before was back. He used it to tear his arm out of the grip of the second suit, and slammed his fist into the elbow of the first one. The fingers flexed, and Peter was free. 

But not for long. 

The second one was back, and it had both arms wrapped around him the second Peter turned back to the door. Peter kicked back, but it didn’t make a difference. He yelled in frustration. 

He just wanted to get back to that house.

He just wanted - he just wanted to do something for May. 

Peter gave up the fight when the other suit came back, positioned itself in front of the door. 

Peter wasn’t going anywhere. 

“You done, kid?” Mr. Stark walked up, leaned against the suit standing in front of the door. Peter glared at him. “These two are going to be keeping an eye on you for a while, and if you do manage to take them down, there’s more where they came from. I was impressed you made it this far though, honestly. I had you at a 50/50 chance that you weren’t even going to make it out of your room.” 

“Can you let me go now?”

Mr. Stark stared at him for so long, Peter had to look away. He clenched his jaw and flexed his fingers. Finally, the suit released him. 

He shoved past it on his way back to the bedroom.

“I’m doing this for your own good, Pete.” 

Peter didn’t bother to reply to that bullshit. He slammed the door behind him before falling onto the bed, shouting his frustration into a pillow. 

He didn’t sleep that night.

--

The next morning went about the same as the last one, but this time Peter was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt before he went out. Ms. Potts asked how he slept again, Mr. Stark gave him a giant plate of food again, and then none of them said anything. Again. 

Peter knew, in some part of him, that this was getting awkward fast. He knew that even a few weeks ago, he would have filled this silence. He would have cared that he was sitting at a breakfast table with Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. 

He would have told May all about it. But there was no May to tell things too. 

So things didn’t matter. 

Nothing mattered. Not anymore. 

When they finished, Peter started making his way back to the bedroom, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Mr. Stark steered him down a flight of stairs and into a lab, and pushed him down into one of the lab stools. 

Peter raised his brows at him. 

“I thought you’d want to work in here with me for a bit today. Spend some time out of that room of yours.” 

Peter shrugged, it didn’t really make a difference to him. 

“Is there, uh, anything you’ve been wanting to build? Would you want to see some of the stuff I’ve been working on?” Peter didn’t say anything. Tony waved a hand behind him. “Tour of the lab, maybe?” 

Mr. Stark kept looking at him, and Peter didn’t know what he wanted. He’d come down here with him, hadn’t he? “This was your idea, Mr. Stark.” 

“Right, okay. Tour it is then.” 

Mr. Stark walked him around the lab. It was huge. It had robots that helped Mr. Stark build. A place to practice all his Iron Man tech. A wall full of Iron Man suits, waiting to be used. Peter nodded along with it all. He thought, vaguely, that Ned would kill to see this. 

Peter would have too, a few weeks ago. 

“And this is where most of the magic happens,” Mr. Stark finished at a large table surrounded by computers. He waved his hands and a hologram showed up, the newest version of the Iron Man suit. He flicked his wrist and a new suit came up. 

Peter blinked in surprise when he recognized it as the Spider Man suit. It looked a bit different, upgraded. Peter wondered if this one had even more web shooter options. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Mr. Stark asked, smiling over at him. Peter felt his own lips twitch in response, and Mr. Stark’s smile grew even wider. “Want to work on this with me? I have a few other ideas, and I bet you do too.” 

Peter’s first instinct was to say yes. Obviously he wanted to work on his Spider Man suit with Mr. Stark. But he held back… because this is what he had wanted a month ago. This is what would have helped him while he was fighting Toomes, and floundering against alien tech on his own. 

This wasn’t who he was anymore. He didn’t have his suit. Mr. Stark had taken that away, and he’d never seen it again. 

He didn’t have any suit. They had all been taken away from him. 

He hadn’t been Spider Man for over two weeks now, and no one was missing him. He didn’t know if anyone had even noticed. Maybe he wasn’t making a difference after all. 

It’s not like… it’s not like him being Spider Man had helped anyone he really cared about. 

It’s not like Spider Man had saved May. 

“No, thanks,” Peter took a step back from the hologram. Mr. Stark’s face was a mix of confusion and hurt, Peter had to look away. “Can I go back to the bedroom now?” 

“Are you sure? I thought-” Mr. Stark cleared his throat. “I mean, of course kid. Whatever you want to do. I’ll be down here if you need me, okay? For anything.” 

Peter nodded, before turning around and making his way up the stairs. 

--

Peter stared at the laptop, but didn’t turn it on. There was nothing he wanted to do on there anyway. 

He thought about trying to sneak out again. He didn’t know if those suits were still active in the middle of the day, or if Friday still had all those doors locked. He could sneak out, wait until dark, get back to that house… 

But Mr. Stark would probably just drag him back before he did anything. 

And the rage that had been pushing Peter forward… that was gone now. 

It left nothing in its place. 

--

Peter spent the next few days exactly the same way he spent the first two. Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts always cooked him breakfast and dinner. Mr. Stark always took him around to do something in the middle of the day. The first time was the lab. Then it was the park. Then it was out to lunch somewhere. 

It didn’t matter where they went, it always ended with Peter back in the bedroom, staring up at the ceiling. 

Mr. Stark never gave up though. Everytime Peter walked away, he said the same thing. “I’ll be here if you need me for anything.” 

It would have been nice, if Peter believed him. 

-- 

Peter wasn’t keeping track of the days, but Mr. Stark was. Peter discovered he had been here for a week when he walked in for breakfast and found papers sitting in his usual spot. 

They had bought themselves a week. Now social services was back. 

“You have to read these and sign them, if you want us to be your permanent legal guardians.” Ms. Potts said, pushing the papers towards where Peter stood, awkwardly staring down at them. “Tony and I have already signed them. When the social worker comes to collect them this afternoon, she wants to speak with you.” 

“Okay,” Peter whispered, picking up the pages. It was only two, stapled together. Peter only had to sign the bottom of the second page. 

“After this is settled, we can have a few months to… connect, as a family.” Ms. Potts smiled at him. Peter kept his eyes on the papers. “And after that… we could even discuss the option of adoption.” 

Adoption . Peter’s eyes flickered up to Ms. Potts in alarm. May hadn’t even adopted him, not fully. She was his guardian, and she was his aunt, and that’s all she needed to be. 

No one had… no one had mentioned adoption before. 

“That’s later, though, for now we’re finalizing the permanent guardianship, okay kiddo?” Mr. Stark cut in, placing Peter’s food on the counter like he always did. “You don’t have to worry about anything. Adoption doesn’t even have to be something we talk about, if you don’t want to talk about it.” 

Peter swallowed, his mouth felt dry. 

“Of course,” Ms. Potts said. “Whatever your most comfortable with, Peter. And today you don’t even have to talk much. All you have to do is to confirm that you are treated well here, and they’ll sign and leave. Nothing too scary, and we’ll be there the whole time.” 

Peter nodded, feeling overwhelmed. “Okay. Thanks, Ms. Potts.” 

“Right, and about that whole thing you have going on,” Peter glanced over to see Mr. Stark waving his hand around. “The whole Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark, super polite thing? Maybe stop that. You called your last guardian Sue, after all, you should probably be calling us Pepper and Tony. At least in front of the social worker.” 

“Oh.” Peter glanced between them, they were both looking at him expectantly. “I didn’t know Sue’s last name.” 

Mr. Stark let out a laugh at that, and Ms. Potts smiled. Peter hadn’t meant to be funny. 

“Well, you know our first names, and if you’re living with us, Pete, we should probably be on a first name basis so… how does that sound? Would Tony and Pepper be okay with you?” 

“Okay… Tony,” it felt weird in his mouth, but Peter wasn’t going to say that. 

-- 

The social worker ended up being Angelica. Peter almost walked out at the sight of her, but he stayed sitting on the couch between Ms- Pepper and Tony. Angelica was obviously a bit star struck over Mr- Tony. She barely looked at Peter. 

She had already signed the form before she even remembered to ask Peter how he felt about living here. 

“It’s good,” he said, trying not to sound as hollow as he felt. “Pepper and Tony are really nice.” 

“That’s wonderful, Peter,” Angelica smiled at him. “I’m so happy for you. You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.” 

Peter frowned, “yeah, well, the last time you saw me-” 

“How about another drink?” Tony cut in, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Your soda’s running low, did you want anything else? Tea, coffee?” 

“No, no, I should probably be going,” Angelica started filing the papers, before slipping them into her bag and standing up. “It’s so nice to see the three of you, I’m always happy to see a success story.” 

A success story, right. Peter was on to his third family in 15 years and they were calling this a success story. 

“It was nice to see you as well, Angelica,” Pepper said smoothly, leading her towards the door. “Let us know if there is anything else you need from us.” 

“Not right now! There are two more at home visits before this can be finalized, but I don’t imagine anything wrong will come up. I’ll call you when I have the dates for those. Bye for now, Pepper. Tony. Uh, Peter.” 

The door shut behind her, and Peter let out a sigh of relief, slumping into the couch. 

“That went well,” Pepper said, walking in to collect the dishes. “Two more visits, and we’re in the clear.”

“Great. Can I go back to the bedroom now?” 

“Sure, buddy,” Tony squeezed his shoulder again. “We’ll be out here-” 

“If I need anything, yeah. Thanks.” 

Peter shut the door firmly behind him and then collapsed on the bed, shutting his eyes. 

He wondered what May would think, if she saw him living here now. If she heard him calling Mr. Stark Tony . 

She’d probably laugh. 

Not that it mattered, because May wasn’t here to laugh anymore. 

Peter felt the tears slip down his nose as he buried his face under his pillow. 

Nothing mattered anymore. 

-- 

“Have you noticed he calls it the bedroom, not his bedroom?” Tony asked. Pepper sighed. 

Footsteps. The sound of a knife hitting a cutting board. 

“Maybe we should find a therapist? He’s been through a lot.” Pepper said. Tony sighed. 

--

The next day after breakfast, when Pepper went off to do work and Mr. St- Tony usually dragged Peter off to some activity, Tony turned to smile at him instead. 

“I have a surprise for you, should be here any minute.” For one bizarre moment, Peter thought Tony had gotten him a dog. 

It wasn’t a dog. A minute later, Ned walked through the door. 

“Oh my God, Peter!” Ned shouted as soon as he walked in. His arms were filled with books and he had his usual giant backpack on. He ran to Peter and he dropped all of it, engulfing Peter in a hug a second later.

Peter sat on his stool and awkwardly patted his back. “Ned?”

“Yeah man, oh my God, I’ve been so worried about you. You just like, vanished! No one knew where you went, the teachers said you had been pulled out of school. And then like, Spider Man also disappeared, so I was really worried, you know? More than anyone else, cause no one else knows about the Spider Man thing! Well, I was worried more than anyone else already, cause I’m actually your friend, but still - and your phone was going directly to voicemail! And you weren’t replying to any of my texts and-” 

“And so he managed to find Happy’s phone number, who then directed him to me.” Mr. St- Tony said, watching them both with bemusement. “I invited him over so he could help you prep for school next week.” 

Peter blinked, this was… a lot. “School?” 

“Yeah, I got you signed up again, you’re staring next week.” Tony grinned at him, “I considered sending you to the same private school I was sent to, but I figured you’d be happier with your friends than with snobby rich kids. There’s also only a few months left, and those schools are too far away anyway.” 

“Uh, okay…” Peter didn’t know what to say to any of that. He was going back to Midtown Tech? He hadn’t even considered it a possibility…

“Peter,” Ned said, finally letting go of him. “I am so sorry to hear about your aunt, man. Mr. Stark told me what happened, and it sucks. May was awesome.” 

“Uh,” Peter cleared his throat, looked down at the papers Ned had dropped on the counter. “Thanks.” 

“So, what happened to your phone? Did you break it? Did you lose it in like, a foster home or something?” Ned asked. 

Peter frowned at him, “what? No.” 

“Oh,” now Ned was frowning. “Then why haven’t you answered any of my texts?” 

“I…” 

“That’s my bad, sorry Fred,” Tony cut in. Peter looked over at him in surprise. “Pete didn’t have a charger when he came here, but I refused to lend him one. Not until he accepts the new Starkphone I’ve been trying to give him.” 

“Dude, you don’t want a free Starkphone?” Ned looked at him like he had two heads. Peter gapped. 

“I don’t… know?” 

“It’s fine, kid, I’ll lend you a charger and leave the Starkphone in your room. You can decide which phone you want to use later, after your friend leaves.” Tony left the room then, patting Peter on the back on his way out. 

Peter watched him go, feeling confused more than anything. 

Was he really getting a new phone? Had Tony just… covered for him? Peter didn’t want to tell Ned he’d barely thought about him in the last two weeks but… Tony didn’t have to do that. 

So why did he? 

“So, where were we in bio when you left?” Ned asked, pulling out even more books and pages from his bag. 

Peter sighed. Back to reality. 

--

Ned stayed for three hours, helping Peter get up to speed on everything he missed. Peter still had a pile of work to do, but at least he knew what he was supposed to do now. 

It was a relief to see Ned go. Peter hadn’t known what to say to a lot of Ned’s questions so he… hadn’t said anything. He sat and stared blankly as Ned explained math sheets to him, and pulled out the novel they were reading in English. 

He ignored Ned’s hurt face when he forgot to do their special handshake, and instead awkwardly waved him goodbye when he left. Ned didn’t say anything, and Peter was glad. 

He was too tired to try to explain himself. 

“How’d that go?” Tony reappeared behind him as soon as the door shut, Ned on his way down to get a ride with Happy. “Everything went okay?” 

Peter shrugged, “it was fine. I missed a lot.” 

“We’ll get you caught up.” 

Peter shrugged again. He didn’t really care. May had been the one who had always gushed about his grades, and without her… Peter shook his head. 

He didn’t like to think about it. 

“I didn’t know I was going back to Midtown.” 

“Right, should I have… mentioned that?” Tony asked, scratching his head awkwardly. “I’m new to this whole, parental figure thing, I just thought you’d want to go back to a bit of normal, so-” 

“It’s fine, it’s just…” Peter shifted awkwardly. He ignored the term parental figure . “I don’t have my backpack.” 

Tony frowned, “what? You do, Happy got it from Sue’s.” 

“Not that one, that was… Angelica packed that one, with clothes and stuff. My school backpack was in our apartment. I forgot to grab it. I didn’t think it mattered, because it’s just books and school work from Midtown, but if I’m going back there…” 

“Right, okay, we’ll swing by and pick it up.” Tony said, already moving to grab his keys. 

Peter shook his head. “It’s not there, anymore. Someone else is renting our place by now. Our stuff was put into-” 

“A storage unit, right. You mentioned that, I completely forgot, sorry kid.” Tony shook his head, “‘ All our stuff is in some storage unit somewhere ,’ it was literally the first thing you said and I completely- Jesus, I’m really messing this up. No wonder you don’t feel at home here, your home is locked up somewhere and I didn’t even think of helping you get it back.” 

Peter’s home was dead, but he didn’t say that. “It’s fine, Mr. uh, Tony. Jeff said they only kept it for a month, so we’re probably too late anyway. Don’t worry about.” 

“Nope, nu-uh, I am definitely going to worry about it. I am going to make some calls, and I am going to fix this. You just,” Tony waved a hand, “go relax in your room. I’ll get everything worked out.” 

Peter didn’t know if even Tony Stark could get everything back after it had been auctioned off. Tony was marching away though, leaving Peter with nothing else to do but start on his piles of homework. 

He carried it all back to the bedroom, arranged it on the desk, and stared at it. 

He ended up lying on the bed again, staring up at the ceiling. 

He didn’t have the energy for homework. 

-- 

It was Sunday, the last day before Peter was heading off to school again, and Tony wasn’t here. Instead, Pepper was the one who was making breakfast when Peter got up. 

“Where’s Tony?” Peter asked. Pepper smiled at him as he sat down. She looked pleased. 

“He’ll be here soon.” Pepper said, a sparkle in her eye. Peter nodded. 

Pepper liked to read while she ate, so Peter didn’t feel awkward that they didn’t talk. Pepper also didn’t insist that Peter not do anything, so he was finally able to help clean up the kitchen this time. 

They had just finished putting everything away when the elevator dinged, and Tony walked out. 

Carrying Peter’s backpack. 

“Oh,” Peter moved forward, taking the backpack from him. “Wow, thank you, Tony, I didn’t think…” 

“Yep, I got it all.” 

“I- really?” Peter felt his lips twitch up. He watched as Tony’s smile grew wider. 

“Yeah, Happy’s dealing with it now. There’s a lot of empty space in this tower, lots of places to store stuff. We’re putting it all two floors down. You can go check it out after they finish, if you want.” 

“... thank you, Tony.” 

“No need to thank me,” Tony grabbed Peter’s shoulder again, gave it a squeeze. “I told you, I’m here if you need anything.” 

Peter swallowed, blinked back the tears that were suddenly springing to his eyes. “Right. Uh, I’m gonna...” 

“Sure. Come back out in an hour, they should be done by then. I’ll show you where all your stuff is, you can start sorting through it.” 

Peter nodded, not trusting his voice. 

I’m here if you need anything. 

-- 

Everything was in boxes, and nothing was labeled. Peter spent hours opening the flaps, peering inside to see what he would find next. Something fluttered through his chest with every new find. The ever growing pile of ‘things to keep’ was stacked beside the elevator. The boxes he didn’t need, like most of the kitchen stuff, he was putting in another room entirely. 

Tony sat on the Parker couch and watched him look through everything with a grin. He said, more than once, that they could keep everything, if Peter wanted to. It wasn’t like they were going to use this floor for anything anytime soon. 

But Peter didn’t want to keep everything. Peter knew that May liked to donate the stuff they didn’t need, whenever they could. 

So Tony sat, and helped him look through it. 

I’m here if you need anything. 

-- 

Peter slept with May’s blanket that night. The afghan she had kept on the couch for naps. 

I’m here if you need anything. 

It’s just the two of us now. The two of us against the world. 

But it wasn’t. Peter was alone. 

And he didn’t know what to believe. 

-- 

Tony, to Peter’s surprise, drove him to school the next morning. Peter pushed the surprise away though, when they drove up to the building. He had bigger problems to deal with. 

Ned stuck beside him the whole day, but Peter couldn’t make himself talk. Ned kept asking him questions, and Peter kept giving him once word responses. He didn’t mean to he just… couldn’t say any more. 

He didn’t have any words in him. 

In class, the teachers all gave him sympathetic looks. Peter shrugged them off and sat in his usual desk, he slouched down and ignored everyone staring at him. He ignored the note MJ threw at his head. He ignored Ned’s questions. 

He punched Flash in the face. 

Though in his defense, he did that without meaning to. One minute, Peter was grabbing his lunch out of his locker. The next, Flash was standing beside him, sneering that “your aunt finally gave up on you, huh? I wonder what she did, to get Stark to take you off her hands? I mean, I know Stark is engaged now, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun on the-” 

And then Flash was on the ground, and Peter’s fist was in the air. 

“Dude, oh my God!” Ned said beside him. “Holy shit, dude I think you broke his nose!” 

He might have. Flashes face was covered in blood, and his nose already looked swollen. Peter didn’t say anything. 

The teachers intervened after that. The principal was involved. Parents and guardians were called in. Peter sat through it all, staring at the floor. 

He didn’t show his surprise when Tony walked into the room. 

“Given everything Peter has been through recently, we are willing to be lenient. A week of detention, starting tomorrow.” 

“What Peter has been through?” Flash snapped in a nasally voice, “ he broke my nose! ” 

“Exactly, a week of detention?” Flash’s mother scoffed. “That does not work for me.”

“I agree,” Tony said. All eyes swivelled to him, including Peter’s. “Unless they’re both having to go.” 

“My son did nothing!” 

“Mr. Stark, Peter was the one who threw the punch. I think we can all agree-” Principal Morita closed his mouth when Tony held up a hand. They all leaned forward when he dropped his phone onto the Principal’s desk, a video already playing. 

The video was of Flash, snapping his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention. Peter didn’t remember him doing that, he’d only noticed Flash when he started talking. 

It was weird to see himself on video. It was weird to see the blank look in his eye as he stared at Flash, no expression on his face. The only time his face moved at all was when Flash started talking about May. 

And even then, it was the barest flicked of anger. It was back to blank when Flash was down. 

He hadn’t even noticed Ned had been recording all of this. 

“Peter’s friend sent that to me ten minutes before I got your call.” Tony said, picking up his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. “I think we can all agree that making fun of someone’s dead relative is just as bad as punching them in the face for it.” 

Flash paled at Tony’s words, “ dead ?” He turned to Peter, but Peter was staring at Tony. 

I’m here if you need anything. 

“Mr. Stark, I had no idea-” 

“Yeah, I’m going to take the kid home with me. Tomorrow he’s going to come back, he’s not going to have detention, and we’ll call it all even. Alright?” 

Flash’s mother opened her mouth to argue, but Tony was already moving. He gripped Peter’s shoulder, pushing him up out of the chair and towards the door. “Yeah, I don’t really care what you’re about to say, tiger mom. Send me the hospital bill if that makes you feel better.” 

Tony shut the door behind them. Peter was glad the hallways were clear, he didn’t need anyone else commenting on the fact that Tony Stark was gently leading Peter out of the building. 

“You okay?” Tony asked when they were finally in the car. Peter nodded. 

They drove home in silence. 

I’m here if you need anything. 

He pushed that thought away. He pushed his thoughts down and down until they were out of reach. 

He didn’t have the energy to think about them. 

--

Days turned into weeks turned into a month.  Ned still sat beside him in class, but he had stopped asking Peter questions. People had stopped staring at him the second day he was there. Partially because Flash, of all people, had told them to leave him alone. 

Which had been weird, but Peter hadn’t questioned it. It didn’t matter, anyway. 

MJ still sent Peter looks sometimes, but she never tried to talk to him. 

Peter barely talked to anyone at school. Not anymore. Peter was a ghost of himself. 

Nothing mattered. 

Tony drove him to and from school every day. Pepper made him dinner every day. They both sat down with him to make sure he did his homework every day. 

Pepper would sit with him in the living room, Tony in his lab. They took turns, so that Peter had help with English with Pepper, and science and math with Tony. He never had an excuse not to do it, because they always knew, somehow, exactly what he had to do. 

May had never been on top of his school work like this before, it was unfair. 

Though… she hadn’t needed to be. Peter had cared, when May was around. 

Now he just did it because they made him. 

-- 

It was a Saturday when Peter realized the date. Two months. 

It had been two months since May had died. 

And Peter still hadn’t done anything for her. 

Without thinking, he balled up the paper in his hand, threw it on the floor when he realized what he had done. 

“I thought you liked that idea?” Tony sat across from him in the lab, working on a very different type of project than Peter was. Peter didn’t reply. He closed his binder and shoved everything back into his bag. 

He couldn’t think about a stupid science project now. Not when it had been two months since May had died. 

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked, his brow furrowed. 

“Nothing,” Peter said. He moved to stand, but so did Tony. Sighing, Peter sat back down. 

Tony didn’t. He walked around the table to stand in front of him. 

“Wanna try that again? What’s going on?” 

Peter glared at him. Two months. Two months , and Peter still had done nothing for May. 

Because Tony hadn’t let him get into the house. 

The thought came out of nowhere, and Peter was almost surprised by it. He hadn’t thought about the Whittemore’s since the first week he’d been here, but… it was true. 

May had never gotten the justice she deserved. 

“Kid.” 

“You won’t let me go.” 

Tony paused, “I won’t let you go where?” 

“You won’t,” Peter waved a hand, “you won’t let me go out as Spider Man.” 

Tony raised a brow, “I thought you weren’t interested in Spider Man anymore.” 

Peter clenched his jaw, “would you have let me go if I wanted to go out as Spider Man?” 

Tony watched him, calculating. “That depends, would you promise to leave the Whittemore’s alone?” 

Peter’s anger flared. Of course Tony knew about Whittemore. Of course he’d looked into it, and knew exactly why Peter wanted to go there. Of course he didn’t understand, even when he knew everything. 

Peter didn’t say anything, and Tony took that as a response. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting you go attack the elderly. Sorry, bud, but I’m doing it for you. If you want we can get the old suit out, though. Do some practicing in the gym here for when… when you’re ready to go out as Spider Man again. We could do that.” 

Peter scoffed, “I’m ready to go out as Spider Man now .” 

“No,” Tony said calmly. “You’re not. You’re… your not yourself right now, kid.” 

“Yes I am. I’m different than the stupid kid you met, but I’m still me!” Peter snapped. 

Tony sighed, “Pete, no, this isn’t you. You’re- you’re grieving, kid. You’re depressed. You’re not thinking straight. In a few months, when you feel better-” 

“I’m not sick, or something,” Peter stood off the stool, “I’m not going to magically heal, or whatever bullshit, in a few months. May died . And nothing is going to be the same. And you- you need to stop acting like, like this !” Peter waved a hand at Tony. 

Tony’s brow furrowed, “like what?” 

“Like you care!” 

Tony’s face flashed with hurt, before it morphed into a serious expression. “Peter, this isn’t an act. I do care. Pepper and I both care a lot about you-” 

“Shut up, no you don’t! Pepper only met me a month ago, and you! If you really cared, you wouldn’t have taken my suit away! I would have had it against Toomes! I would have had it when May- I might have been able to do something when May-” 

“Is that what this is all about? You feel guilty because you weren’t able to save May?” 

Peter clicked his jaw shut. He didn’t say anything. 

“Kid, you’re wrong .” Tony took a step forward, his eyes fierce. “You can blame me all you want. I’m a dick, I took your suit when you needed it the most, I get that. Hate me for all I care. But blaming yourself? I’m going to have to fight you on that one. Peter, you were in school when May got hit. You couldn’t have done anything. Anything . As much as it hurts to have lost her, you can not blame yourself for it, you hear me? May wouldn’t want that.” 

Peter felt tears in his eyes, but he shook his head. He shook the feelings away, because he didn’t want them. 

They hurt too much. 

But Tony wasn’t done yet. For the second time in two months, Tony stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. 

This one lasted longer than the one on the rooftop. 

“May loved you, a whole lot, and she would be really proud of you, kid. She wouldn’t blame you for what happened to her.” 

Peter didn’t know if it was the words, or the arms supporting him, but the tears slipped out and he wasn’t able to stop them. 

“I can’t do this,” Peter cried into Tony’s shoulder. “I can’t keep doing this.” 

Tony pulled away, but only far enough so he could see Peter’s face. “Can’t do what, bud?” 

“I can’t- first it was my parents. Then Ben. Now May? I can’t-” Peter sniffed, “you keep saying ‘I’m here if you need anything’, but May said that too . And she’s not here . And I can’t keep losing everything- I can’t- I don’t want to be alone anymore-” 

Tony caught him when his legs gave out. He shushed him when Peter started to sob. He rocked him when his tears wouldn’t stop, and his whole body trembled. 

“You’re right,” Tony said, when Peter’s sobs finally calmed down. As silent tears fell down his cheeks. “I can’t promise that I’ll always be here. But, I can promise that I’m here for you now, kid. I can promise that right now, you’re not alone. And I’ll try my very best to keep it that way.” 

Peter sniffed, nodded his head against Tony’s chest. 

That was a promise he could believe in. 

--

That night, Pepper came home with pizza, and the three of them sat on the couch and watched a movie together. It felt a lot more relaxed than it had since Peter got here. 

He almost fell asleep with his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

“I’m going to head to my room, okay?” Peter said as the credits rolled, yawning into elbow. 

He didn’t miss the smile Tony and Pepper shared at his words, but he didn’t really understand it either. 

-- 

The next day was a Wednesday, but Tony stopped him when Peter went to grab his backpack after breakfast. 

“I already called the school and told them you were sick,” Tony said, fiddling with a washcloth. “I realized, uh, there are a few things we should talk about. Keeping lines of communication open, and all that.” 

“Okay, what’s up?” 

Tony dropped the cloth on the counter, “come with me.” 

Peter followed Tony down to the lab, and sat on a stool Tony pulled out for him. They were in front of the hologram table, and Peter really had no idea what was going on. 

“First off Pete, I want you to know I haven’t been keeping this stuff from you. I was waiting for you to be a little… more yourself, I guess. I’m realizing now that you probably need closure, and probably therapy, in order to heal and get better, yada yada, so, uh, here we are.” 

“Okay? Are we… meeting a therapist here?” Peter glanced around the lab, they were the only two here. 

“No,” Tony chuckled, “no, I’m leaving the therapy decision up to you. We can talk about that later. For now, I want to talk about this.” Tony waved a hand, and a profile came up on the screen. 

The profile of Richard Whittemore. 

“Tony…”

“I get why you want to get into that house, kid, I do. I looked everything up after that night we… ran into each other, and I get it. But I don’t think you know the full story of what happened.” 

“He hit May.” 

“Yeah, he did. No one is saying otherwise.” 

Peter glared at the man’s picture, “they didn’t charge him with anything.” 

“No, they didn’t. But that doesn’t mean they let him get away with it.” Tony swiped his hand again, and a picture showed up. A picture of an old age home. “This is the home Whittemore was placed in after the accident. He isn’t allowed to leave, and he will never be allowed to drive again. He wasn’t even supposed to be driving that day, they’d taken his license away months ago, but his wife was out, and he forgot.” 

Peter frowned, “he forgot he didn’t have a driver's license?” 

“He has Alzheimer's, Pete. He didn’t know what he was doing.” 

Peter sucked in a breath. That meant… it really had been a medical emergency. He didn’t know what to say. 

“That night you saw them, sitting in the house together?” Peter nodded. “That was one of his last night’s home with his wife. He went to the home that weekend. So even if I did let you go back to that house, kid, to do… whatever it was you felt like you had to do… he wouldn’t have been there. No one was choosing him over May, okay? It was just… not as cut and dry as a hit and run.” 

Peter sniffed. He turned away from the hologram image, and took a deep breath. This wasn’t the revenge he had hoped for but… it wasn’t nothing. They hadn’t let the man get away with May’s death. 

He should have known Tony would never have let that happen. 

“You okay?” Tony asked, a hand landing on his shoulder. Peter nodded, wiping a tear away with his sleeve. “Alright. I have one more thing I, uh, didn’t mention.” 

Peter turned to him, feeling wary. 

“It’s not bad, I just, uh, I have May.” 

Peter blinked, “what?” 

“I have May, I have her - here,” Tony moved away, ducked down to a cupboard Peter had never noticed before, and came back with a white glass jar. “I collected her the same day I did the storage unit. I would have done both of those things earlier, but I was so focused on making sure I had you all squared away that I forgot and then… I wasn’t sure… how to bring up that I had her.” 

“Oh.” Peter stared at the glass jar, the urn, in surprise. He lifted a hand to touch the side. “May…” 

“Yeah, I… this is what they had her in. I wasn’t sure if you wanted a different colour or something. Or we could bury her, I know your uncle is in the cemetery, we could put her with him. Or not. Up to you, entirely up to you.” 

Peter nodded. He slid the urn off the table and held her in his arms. 

May. 

“Can I decide later?” 

“Yeah, kid, take all the time you need.” 

“Okay,” Peter hugged her closer to his chest. “For now, I’m going to put her in my bedroom.” 

Tony smiled at him, his eyes crinkled. “Sounds good, Pete. I think she’d like that.” 

-- 

At school the next day, Peter hugged Ned. Neither of them had said anything, but Ned had been standing by Peter’s locker, like he always did in the morning, and Peter couldn’t help himself. 

Ned was the best, after all. He deserved more hugs. 

“Sorry I’ve been kind of AWOL, man.” Peter said when he pulled back. 

Ned waved him off. Because Ned was the best. 

Peter still didn’t talk as much, but he was trying. He sat up and paid attention in class. He told Ned a joke, and they both laughed way too hard about it. He smiled at MJ when she shot him a look. 

She grinned back at him, “glad to have you back, loser.” 

Peter blushed and looked away. It was good to be back. 

At the end of the day, as Peter was about to head to Tony’s car sitting in its usual spot, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. 

Flash was standing behind him. He looked nervous. “I’m sorry for what I said about your aunt, Parker. I didn’t know she’d passed away.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise, “it’s fine, Flash. That was, like, weeks ago.” 

“Yeah, but, you’ve looked so sad. I didn’t want to bring it up.” 

“Oh. Thanks.”  

Flash didn’t stick around to say anything else, but that was fine. Peter didn’t have anything else to say to him either. 

They were back on the same page. 

He must have been smiling when he got into the car, because Tony was instantly smiling back at him. “How was school?” 

“Good,” Peter said. “I had a good day.” 

-- 

Days turned into weeks turned into months. And Tony had been right, Peter was starting to feel better. 

It probably helped that he had decided to see that therapist after all. 

School ended on a high note, and Peter promised Ned they would hang out during the summer. He wasn’t going to disappear again. 

Peter and Pepper started spending some more time together. Pepper liked to take him out shopping, or to the movies. Peter liked to watch chick flicks with her on the couch, surrounded by snacks. 

Sometimes, hanging out with Pepper reminded him of hanging out with May, but that was okay. His therapist said he was allowed to enjoy himself, even if the people he loved were gone. They would want him to be happy. 

Peter and Tony spend a lot of time together in the lab, and, more often than not these days, time together training in the gym. The first time Peter put the suit on again, he didn’t leave the gym for seven hours. Tony said he was tired just watching him bounce around the walls. 

Tony told him Peter could go out now, take the Spider Man suit for a real spin around the city. Peter declined though. He wasn’t ready. 

Tony looked impressed when he said that. 

Halfway through July, during the days that May had always loved best, they had a celebration of life. Peter invited Ned and MJ, and sent messages out to May’s friends. He was surprised when all of them came. 

He was even more surprised when all of them mentioned how worried about him they had been. 

Turned out, Peter had never been as alone as he thought. 

After the celebration, Tony, Pepper and Peter went to the cemetery, just the three of them. They buried May beside Ben. Peter thought she would be happiest there. 

Afterwards, they went home. 

Some day, Peter was going to put on the suit again. Some day, Peter was going to walk (or swing) through Queens and not feel like his heart was breaking. Some day, he was going to feel better again. 

And he knew, from here on out, he was never going to be alone. 

--