Chapter Text
21 March 2002
Peter was woken up by the sound of the glass in his father's study being smashed. A yell came from the room next. He started to climb out of bed, hearing footsteps running down the stairs next. He slid his door open just enough for him to slip out. He slid down the stairs, making as little noise as possible. There was a muffled bang and he ran through the living room to find the door of his father's study hanging wide open. His parents were lying on the floor, blood soaking into the carpet. A man dressed in black stood at his father's desk, rummaging around in it.
The man looked up and saw Peter, pulling out a gun and aiming it at him. Two arrows embedded in the man's chest, dropping him to the floor. Peter stared at the man's body, barely hearing the man behind him. “Agent Coulson, the Parker scientists are dead. No, the son's still alive, though he might be in shock. Understood, sir.” Peter kicked out when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was turned around, staring at a man in a purple t-shirt with a pair of sunglasses and bow in his hand. “You're safe now, Peter. Okay?” Peter nodded, glancing back at his parent's bodies. “My name's Clint Barton. I was charged with protecting your family. We need to move you some place safe, encase anyone else comes to investigate.”
Peter nodded, understanding what Clint was saying. He was placed on the couch. “Do you want to hold my bow?” Peter's hand wrapped around the bow, clutching onto it tightly. Peter didn't notice when Clint returned with a pair of shoes, sliding them on his feet. “I need you to follow me, okay?” Peter clutched the bow to himself more. “You can hold on to her for me, okay?” Peter nodded, standing up and following Clint out of the house.
The car ride didn't seem to happen in his mind, and he only remembered a few moments of Clint carrying him up a flight of stairs, and falling asleep curled around a bow.
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Peter woke up to the sound of the door opening. “May are you sure that you and Ben don't want to take Peter in?” A few seconds passed where Peter opened his eyes to see a wall of purple in his face. “He's your nephew and... I'm sure SHIELD would... I mean I'm sure Richard... I won't let him go into foster care, I can assure you that. Okay, I understand. SHIELD will be in touch with you about custody and to meet whoever takes Peter in.” Peter turned around and saw the apartment for the first time. There was a TV sitting on top of a wooden crate, a bow with a quiver next to it. There was a coffee table littered with papers directly in front of him. Peter slid off the couch and followed when he thought the voice was coming from. He saw Clint sitting on the counter, looking at an older man in a black suit.
“He's staying with me. I'm not going to negotiate with Fury about this. He stays with me, Phil.” Clint told the man.
“Of course, Clint.” Phil replied, looking at the kitchen. “I'll have someone go to the house, retrieve Peter's possessions and have them dropped off in the spare room here.”
“Thank you Coulson.”