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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Germany came to Peter as a surprise, though he supposed it shouldn’t have. Just a couple of months before the so-called “Civil War” Peter had met three of the Avengers as Spider-Man, and while he didn’t notice any tension between those three, he had, days later, taken note of the missing Avengers. It was maybe a bit odd that only three came, but he also considered it odd that they came to help him with the Lizard at all. It was definitely below their pay grade. But he had brushed it off, and just assumed they really were bored, or something. 

But still, he hadn’t expected any of them to take an interest in him, so when he saw Tony Stark sitting in the living room of his apartment he was a little shocked. He was even more shocked to learn that the man wanted him to go to Germany to help capture the Avengers. The fact that they really were fighting each other came as a shock to Peter, and he realized that maybe the tension had been going on at least since the fight with the Lizard, and that was why only three showed up.

But an actual, physical, fight was never meant to happen. Mr. Stark had said to just swing around and web them up, nothing more. He’d even said that the others were going to go easy on the other Avengers and that they were only going to capture them so that Ross’s people wouldn’t go after them. It was for their own good, Peter had been told, and Peter believed it. 

In all honesty, though, Peter didn’t really want to go. After all, he was called the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man, not the Inter-Country-Travelling-Spider-Man. But it was also really hard saying no to Mr. Stark, especially when the man threatened to tell Aunt May about Peter’s “extracurriculars”. 

So, Peter had said yes. 

And the fight… well, the fight didn’t go as planned. Peter had tried to web up a couple of the Avengers… or the “Rogues”, as the media called them now, but it had been to no avail. Steve and Bucky had escaped, and the rest were sent to the Raft, only to be broken out not much later. 

And Peter had to admit, while he didn’t exactly like the fact that the Rogues had escalated the fight, he also really didn’t like that they were sent to an underwater prison. No one deserved that. Peter was pretty sure that Mr. Stark felt the same, despite the fact he hadn’t said as much. But he couldn’t imagine the man being ok with his friends being stuck in a prison like that. He just wasn’t like that.

All this to say, Peter didn’t expect Germany in any way, shape, or form. 

But what he expected even less was what came after Germany. 

It had kind of been a rush of months, so much so that some of it was a complete blur in Peter’s mind. He went on patrol a lot more often, seeing as he had quit Oscorp a few months before, after the whole Lizard incident (mainly because he really, really, didn’t want to be a part of human experimentation, intentional or not). Then there was the whole Vulture incident, combined with Happy ignoring Peter’s texts, and Mr. Stark distancing himself from Peter. 

That had been difficult at first. It basically confirmed Peter’s thoughts that Mr. Stark didn’t really care about him, and had just used him as extra man-power for Germany. But in the end, it didn’t really matter. He had been Spider-Man before Mr. Stark, and he’d be Spider-Man after him as well.

But then things slowly started to change, especially after the plane crash. Mr. Stark had offered the position of being an Avenger to Peter, which was… odd, but it showed that the man was starting to try and be a part of Peter’s life a bit more. But Peter still turned it down. 

Ya, Ned hadn’t really forgiven him for that one. 

But Peter couldn’t be an Avenger. Wasn’t ready to be an Avenger. There was so much politics involved and so many big fights. And, honestly, Peter felt a little worn out from just the Lizard and the Vulture, he couldn’t imagine dealing with bigger threats. Staying on the ground and helping the little people was what he was most suited to. 

And he had expected that to be the end of it. He was sure Mr. Stark would continue to keep his distance as he had been, and was sure that Happy would still ignore his texts, and he was sure he was going to continue to make mistakes as Spider-Man. It was just the way of his life.

As it turned out, only two of those things ended up being correct. 

He still made mistakes as Spider-Man despite his best efforts not to (but really, if you’re trying to get into a car by smashing its window open you have to know that it looks like you’re stealing it. That isn’t Peter’s fault), and he was still ignored by Happy for the most part (save for the couple of texts from the man that just say “Cool, kid” or “Good job”), but Mr. Stark became a much larger part of Peter’s life. 

It had started out rather small, and with a bit of a sense of deja-vu, if Peter was being honest. One day he just walked into his apartment to see Mr. Stark sitting with his aunt… again. It looked like a much more casual meeting than the first one before Mr. Stark had taken Peter to Germany, but Peter could tell there was some tension. 

“Mr. Parker,” the man said with a playful smirk, one that his aunt mimicked perfectly. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter replied, trying to not show how surprised he was at seeing Tony Stark in his living room again, “Wha-What, uh, what’re you doing here? Again?” 

“Now that your aunt knows about Spider-Boy—”

“Spider- Man ”

“—we’ve decided to talk. To make sure things are going ok. To keep the Spider-Baby safe—”

“And away from any fights with the Avengers,” May cut in, giving Mr. Stark a sharp look. 

Mr. Stark seemed to freeze for a split second, and consider her words, and Peter was sure that Mr. Stark had definitely been contacted by Aunt May and yelled at by her. She wasn’t one you could cross like that. 

“And that,” Mr. Stark sniffed, “And to offer you an actual internship. With yours truly.” 

Peter’s mouth must have hung open, he was sure. Sure, he’d done internships before. Or, rather, one internship before. But that was nothing compared to working with the Tony Stark, the man who barely had enough time for Peter just a couple of weeks ago. And ya, sure, his previous internship did lead to Peter getting bitten by a radioactive spider, and it did mean that he got to be Spider-Man, but honestly, that was kind of freaky, and not super cool (ok, well the Spider-Man part was cool). Either way, working as a lowly intern as OsCorp who mostly just got coffee had nothing on interning for Tony Stark. 

“Of course, we’ll work out a schedule, so you can continue with your Spiderly activities, and so you can keep up your grades at school,” Mr. Stark continued, apparently ignoring Peter’s reaction. 

“And it’ll look so good on college application Peter!” Aunt May chimed in. 

And honestly? Peter was having a hard time processing all of this. Much too hard of a time to even think about college applications. 

“But…, why?” was all he could say. 

“Why would I want a bonafide teenage genius working with me?” Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow, and all Peter could do was nod. 

“Because you’ve got skills, kid.”

And the conversation ended just like that. 

The three worked out a schedule, deciding that starting next week, Peter would spend Friday nights at SI in order to work with Mr. Stark. The man would also fill out and send all the required paperwork to Midtown so that it could be shown on Peter’s record. And then, if there was time in the week, Peter would also go over to SI on Wednesday nights, though it wasn’t mandatory. 

“Well then. With that settled, I’ve got to go,” Mr. Stark stood up, straightening his jacket as he did. 

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Aunt May asked. 

Mr. Stark, though, didn’t look at her. He looked at Peter, who shook his head as subtly as he could and stuck out his tongue, hoping to convey that his Aunt, while an amazing lady, was an awful cook. Though he was sure Mr. Stark remembered the date square. 

“No, unfortunately, I can’t. Business to run, and all that.”

“Well, there’s always next time.” 

“Of course.” 

And with that, Mr. Stark left the Parker’s apartment, leaving Peter to practically jump around in his excitement. 

Peter had spent that night texting Ned in his excitement. Finally, he would be able to prove to his classmates that he wasn’t lying about his internship at SI, even though, technically, he was lying before. Well, not technically. He had been lying. But for a good reason! And it was a cover that Mr. Stark came up with so technically, he was working with Mr. Stark. Just not in the way he said he was.

But that was besides the point. 

What mattered is that he actually had an internship now. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what this would do to his relationship with the man. Part of him was afraid that he’d somehow mess things up, and Mr. Stark would get mad at him again, just like the ferry incident. But, the other part of him thought back to how the man treated him in general, and he had a good feeling about it. 

Maybe he could even convince Mr. Stark to let him work on some of the Iron Man suits! Or, if not that, then at least let him show some of his designs and ideas for Spider-Man suits. And maybe Peter could even convince the man to let him work in the actual R&D floors. 

Not that working with Mr. Stark wasn’t enough, but, well, if Peter was at SI he really wanted to look at the different labs and projects. Plus, he was pretty sure MJ would like to hear about how SI was researching renewable energy. 

Not that he wanted to impress her, or anything. No, just as a friend… talking to another friend. 

Ya. 

..

Peter had spent the next week practically vibrating from his excitement and anxiety. Neither Happy nor Mr. Stark texted him any details, and Peter was starting to get worried that maybe he had misheard or misinterpreted, or maybe Mr. Stark just forgot. Maybe they were going back to the whole “My people will get in contact with you” thing. 

But Peter wouldn’t admit his fears to anyone other than Ned. If it didn’t end up happening then… so what? He still had Spider-Man! And Acadec, and school, and Ned and MJ, and uh. Well. That was it really. But it was a lot on his schedule already, so really, it was fine if he didn’t really get that internship. 

He said as much to Ned. 

“Dude, he literally came to your apartment to offer it to you, of course, it's happening,” Ned rolled his eyes. 

“Ya, but like, what if he forgot? Or what if I just misunderstood?” Peter said, “Both are very possible. Plus he never said a time or gave me a badge, or anything. I don’t even know how I’ll get into the building, let alone his lab.” 

“It’s literally his business, I’m sure he’s told the desk lady or whatever to expect you.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow and gave Ned a look, not dignifying that with a response. 

“What?” Ned shrugged, “I don’t know how businesses work.”

Peter laughed and nodded. “They’re called secretaries Ned. Come on, man.” 

Ned just shrugged again. 

The rest of the week went pretty much the same. Peter switched between being overwhelmingly excited and ranting to Ned about all the possibilities there were for him at SI, to being stupidly nervous about the whole thing. 

“I mean really, what if I show up and they just kick me out?” 

“They won’t do that, Peter.”

“You don’t know that!” 

Peter and his whirlwind of emotions continued all the way until Friday morning when he woke up to a text from Mr. Stark. 

M.Stark: Happy’ll pick you up after school. 

M.Stark: Don’t be late, he’ll be grouchy. 

M.Stark: Scratch that, do be late. It’ll be funny. 

Peter quickly texted back an “Ok! :D” before getting ready for the day. 

He didn’t know if he was expected to bring anything or dress to a specific dress code for SI, but he assumed the answer to both was no. Mr. Stark was rich, after all, he was sure the lab would have all the supplies he’d need. 

So Peter just made sure to pack the notebook that he wrote his designs and ideas in, as well as a pencil, and the rest of his school stuff in his bag. 

He shoved everything inside, noting how the stitches looked like they were about to burst (which he decidedly ignored), and waved goodbye to May before leaving the apartment. For once in his life, he wasn’t going to be late to school, if just so he could avoid detention so that he wouldn’t be late for Mr. Stark. 

The day seemed to drag on, and Peter honestly thought it would never end. It was only the second period but he swore it felt like he had already lived through two days. 

To be fair, though, second period was English. And English and Peter’s brain just… didn’t combine. He wasn’t bad at it necessarily, he just wasn’t good at it. And he’d be lying if he said it didn’t annoy him. 

Halfway through the period though, his phone went off. A few heads turned to him, a few glared at him, but he was ignored for the most part. Even Mrs. Francis didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Or she didn’t hear it, which honestly was more likely considering the lady was probably close to 80. 

He shoved his phone under his desk anyways, and opened the text.

(Not) Happy: Front doors, 4 pm. 

Peter nodded to himself and replied. 

Parker: Got it. 

Parker: Thanks Happy! :D 

Parker: Hope you’re having a good day! I’m stuck in English :( 

Parker: But ya. I’ll see you at 4! 

(Not) Happy: Go back to class kid. 

..

When the bell finally sounded, signaling the end of the day, Peter practically ran from the building, only stopping to wave to Ned. 

“Have fun!” Ned shouted as Peter ran. 

Peter spotted the sleek black car right away. It stood out among the rugged, student-owned cars in the parking lot, and Peter could see Happy sitting in the driver’s seat. He pushed through the sea of students, mumbling quick “sorry”’s as he did, and skidded to a stop at the car, before tapping on the window. 

The passenger window rolled down and Peter was met with Happy’s perpetually unhappy face. 

“You’re five minutes late,” the man grumbled. 

“Sorry, I just—”

“Do you know what New York City traffic is like after 4 PM on a weekday?” 

And, no, not really. Peter and Aunt May always took the bus or the subway. They got rid of the car after Uncle Ben died because Aunt May was bad at driving, and Peter just couldn’t. But even before Ben’s death they rarely used the thing. 

So, Peter just shrugged. 

“Just get in the back,” Happy said, and Peter did as he was told, “I was told to pick you up food on the way there, what do you want?” 

“Uhh… cheeseburgers?” 

Peter didn’t even get to finish his sentence, or rather, word, before the partition went up. Well, he supposed some things never changed. 

.. 

They arrived at SI some odd hour later (traffic had been bad, but Happy drove like a magician), and Peter was still munching on his second hamburger. He had been content to sit in the backseat of the car while he finished his burger, but Happy had grumpily sent him on his way up. 

Which was how Peter found himself loitering in Stark Industries’ lobby, with no real idea of where to go. Happy hadn’t given any instructions, nor had Mr. Stark, and honestly? At this point, Peter wasn’t even surprised. It was just the way things worked, apparently. 

So, with a half-eaten hamburger in his hand, and his backpack hanging off his shoulder (which, really, Peter needed a new one, the straps were just about to come off), Peter went up to the secretary. The lady had a pair of sharp-looking glasses on and was glaring at something on her screen. She looked annoyed enough that Peter almost didn’t want to bother her, and was close to simply exiting the building to find Happy again. But instead, he just shook his head and walked up to the lady. 

“Uhm, excuse me?” Peter kept a good foot away from the desk, not wanting to impose. 

The lady looked up, one eyebrow raised in skepticism as she looked Peter over. 

“We don’t do school tours,” was all she said before going back to her computer. 

“Uhm, no. Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting Mr. Stark today? But he didn’t really give me any instructions on where to go, and I was just kind of dropped off here. So I was wondering if you could tell him that I’m here? Or like, tell me where to go? I don’t have a pass or anything, so I don’t really know how to get in, and well, you know, I don’t want to seem like I’m sneaking in, ‘cause that would be suspicious. And weird. And well, I’m not sneaking. Because Mr. Stark asked me to come, on Friday, and today is Friday—” 

“Ok, listen. If you don’t have a badge or a meeting with Mr. Stark, you can’t get in. Sorry hun,” the lady said. 

“But I do have a meeting.”

“Well, you’re not scheduled.” 

“Could you just— could you just call him? Or let him know? Or wait!” Peter paused, “I can call him, why didn’t I think of that?”

The lady looked him over one more time, an eyebrow raised, but shook her head in disbelief. She didn’t say anything further. 

Peter just bit his lip and turned away from the secretary who was very obviously not pleased with him and was definitely not going to let him in. He made his way to the front of the lobby, squishing himself into a corner as he texted Mr. Stark. 

Parker: Hey, Mr. Stark 

Parker: So like, do you think you could come down and get me? 

Parker: Or tell the secretary lady that I do have a meeting with you?

Parker: If that’s ok! I don’t want to bother you 

Parker: Its just… I’m kinda stuck in the lobby right now. 

There was silence for a few moments, and Peter was seconds away from leaving. People kept giving him weird looks, which was granted. He was a teenager in the middle of Stark Industries, a place where he definitely didn’t belong. But still. 

It was awkward. 

Then, his phone pinged.

M. Stark: Just walk through the sensors. 

Parker: I don’t have a badge though… 

M. Stark: Friday knows to let you in. 

Peter stared at the texts for a few seconds, trying to process Mr. Stark’s… vagueness, before shrugging. He took tentative steps towards the sensors, ignoring the secretary’s glare towards him and her shout of “What do you think you’re doing?” 

And, surprisingly, just as Mr. Stark said, no alarm or anything went off. Peter raised his eyebrows, surprised, although he shouldn't have been. 

“Welcome, Mr. Parker. Boss has informed me that you are to use the further most left elevator. I will bring you to floor 96.” 

Peter looked around in slight surprise, unsure of where the voice came from and noticed that other people in the lobby were also looking around. There were whispers of “who’s Mr. Parker?” and “Floor 96? Why would Stark want anyone on his floor?”, and Peter assumed it would just be best to follow the ceiling lady’s instructions. 

So, he got onto the elevator that was on the end, and without pressing any buttons, it began to raise. And it went up fast . Peter swore it felt like a roller coaster. And, true to the fact, within a matter of seconds the elevator dinged and the doors opened. 

“Peter!” a shout came from ahead of him, “Come in!” 

Peter shot the man a smile and stepped into the room. It was a large floor, though relatively empty. Just a kitchen, a lounging area, and a set of doors that led to stairs. 

“Come, sit. We’ll get to the lab in a few minutes,” Mr. Stark motioned Peter into the kitchen. 

“Need anything? Pop? Juice boxes? Apple sauce?” the man continued. 

Peter scoffed, sitting next to the man, “Mr. Stark, I’m 15, not 5.” 

“Same thing,” Mr. Stark shrugged, “On to more pressing things then.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, shifting a bit uncomfortably. Mr. Stark was always so talkative, confident, and eccentric. And sure, Spider-Man could be those things, but Peter? Peter was just… well he was just Peter. Nothing more, nothing less.

“You’re sticky,” Mr. Stark said. 

Peter cocked his head. This? Again? Didn’t they go over this when they took the Lizard down?

“Uh, ya?” 

“On everything?” 

“I mean, I haven’t tried it on everything, but everything I’ve tried sticking to, I have,” Peter shrugged. 

The man hummed, scratching his beard as he thought. 

“And it's your suit? How did you develop that? Is it the same material as your webs?” 

“Um,” Peter shook his head, “No. That’s all me.” 

Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow. 

“ You ?” 

“Ya, I mean. The webs are handmade by me… but you already know that, ya,” Peter started, smiling a bit as he saw a flicker in Mr. Stark’s eyes that said he was impressed, “But uh, everything else is all me.” 

“Hm… same thing to do with the senses?” 

“Ya, uh. Came from a radioactive spider, from OsCorp.” 

“Interesting,” the man continued to hum as he thought. 

Peter nodded, his lips pressed into a thin smile as he sat in the awkward silence. He really didn’t know what else to say about the subject. It was weird enough that Peter had been invited to intern with Mr. Stark, but to talk about his freaky spider-bite and powers? Ya, that was a bit much. Or, maybe it wasn’t, considering the man was Iron Man, after all. He’d understand. Kind of. Maybe. Really, Peter didn’t think anyone would understand being bitten by a radioactive spider, it was a hard thing to get .

But also, why was Mr. Stark suddenly interested in his powers? He knew the man assumed his stickiness came from his suit seeing as the suit Mr. Stark built for him had sticky palms and feet—which Peter immediately changed at home. It made it way too hard to actually stick to things, ironically enough. Plus Mr. Stark definitely saw him climb that building with the Lizard, and probably saw him climb another building in Germany, so he knew Peter was sticky. And what was so interesting about it anyways? It was more of a hindrance in his life, especially considering the amount of things he broke because of it. 

“Can you stick to the ceiling?” Mr. Stark asked suddenly, pulling Peter out of his thoughts. 

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, trying to hold back an incredulous look, which he clearly didn’t achieve based on Mr. Stark’s laugh. 

“Uh, ya?” Because of course he could? Ceilings were just upside down walls, “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

“Care to show and tell?” 

And really, Peter almost said no. He was starting to feel like a science experiment, and it was a feeling he really didn’t enjoy. He really didn’t think Mr. Stark was going to be super interested in his powers if he was being honest. The man was a mechanic, an engineer, a genius, but not a biochemist. Not like OsCorp. 

But there was a gleam in Mr. Stark’s eyes that told Peter he really was just interested, that he wasn’t going to treat Peter like some kind of specimen. Not like OsCorp would have, anyways. 

So Peter shrugged, slipped off his shoes—because etiquette, even on ceilings, was important—and jumped up, flipping in the air so that he would land feet first on the ceiling. The feeling was almost completely natural. He barely felt the weight of gravity and was pretty sure he could stay upside down longer than the average human. 

“So how does it work?” Mr. Stark asked, a small smile on his face. 

“Huh?” Peter cocked his head. He slowly lowered (raised?) himself so that he was sitting in a more comfortable position on the ceiling. “I told you: a radioactive spider.” 

“Ya, thanks Sherlock,” Mr. Stark rolled his eyes, “I mean, how do you control it? How do you make yourself stick?” 

“Oh!” Peter paused for a moment, trying to put it into words, “It’s more like I have to tell my body not to stick. Sticking just happens naturally. Like… like… like breathing! I don’t really think about it. But I have to think about it to not stick. When I first got these, uh, these powers, I kinda stuck to everything. Like. Everything, everything. I ripped shirts, got stuck to people, got stuck to a classroom door once. That was hard to explain.” 

“Like really strong glue,” the man nodded. 

“What?” Peter furrowed his eyes, confused until the man let out a laugh. 

It was a joke. 

A bad one, but a joke nonetheless.

“Alright, get down from there before Pepper comes in here to yell at you. Or scream. Probably both,” 

Peter nodded and obliged, hopping down and landing on his feet. 

“You sure you’re not Cat-Man? You always seem to land perfectly,” Mr. Stark laughed, “Now let's get to the lab, I want your help updating your suit.” 

Peter practically jumped at that and followed closely behind the man.

He got the opportunity to ask about different features in his suit, like hooking his phone up to the suit so he could text and call May and Ned without keeping his phone on him during patrol. He also wanted to get rid of some of the web functions Mr. Stark had initially put in. 

Before they knew it, the two had been working for close to three hours. Mr. Stark helped Peter out with updating the suit, but for the most part, let the boy do it himself. Peter appreciated that. He definitely appreciated being given tech from Mr. Stark, but he liked wearing his own stuff. It made him proud of himself. 

“I’ll order some pizza and then get Happy to drive you home,” Mr. Stark said as they were cleaning up the lab. Or, at least, the part of the lab where Peter had been working. 

“You don’t need to do that, Mr. Stark,” 

“No, I think I do. Aunt Hottie is scary when she’s mad, and she’ll definitely be mad about an underfed Spiderling who’s getting home at,” he checked his watch, “ Shit. At past midnight, at this rate.” 

Peter just laughed but didn’t argue. 

“Hey,” Mr. Stark started suddenly, “Do you think you could stick to a human? Or a mutant?” 

“Uh, I don’t see why not? I’ve been able to stick to everything so far,” Peter shrugged. 

“How about a hulk?” 

And, ya. Peter choked at that. 

“ What ?” 

“No, no. I’m just. Just wondering. Can’t test it out now, dunno where the big guy is. But, I’d like to know. Can a mutant stick to another mutant? Or green thing. Whatever he is. Plus you’ve both got radiation working for ya,”

“I mean,” Peter paused, thinking about it, “I’m pretty sure I can.” 

“We’ll test it out, one day.” Mr. Stark seemed so determined that Peter couldn’t help but nod and agree. 

(When the Hulk returned months and months later they did, finally, test it out. Peter was unsurprised when he was able to hang upside down from the Hulk’s arm, sticking just as usual. The Hulk, on the other hand, was very surprised, and decided that Peter was his new best friend.) 

Chapter Text

It had been almost two months since Peter started really interning with Mr. Stark. The two had gotten closer in those months, and while they mostly did work in the lab, sometimes those nights turned into them eating pizza and watching a movie instead of really working. Peter didn’t mind though, he was finding himself growing more and more comfortable in the company of Mr. Stark.

Which, ya. Was a little weird. 

It was weird to think that he, of all people, was close to his childhood idol. This was not something he ever would have dreamt of in a million years. Honestly, Peter had thought that maybe one day he could be an Avenger, but even in those dreams, he was never actually close with Mr. Stark. The man, despite being Peter’s idol, always seemed slightly detached from emotions. It seemed like it was hard to get close to him. 

And, well, Peter wasn’t entirely wrong. It was hard to get close to the man, in a sense. He didn’t really talk about himself a lot. And sometimes, he’d grow so quiet, so lost in thought, that Peter was sure he had fallen asleep on the spot. Sometimes he would be in the middle of speaking and just cut himself off before going into his sort of trance-like state. Peter brought it up once, but Mr. Stark had just shrugged it off as lack of sleep. 

But Peter knew it was more than that. 

He just didn’t know the exact reason. 

Yet. 

Unfortunately for Mr. Stark, when Peter cared about people, he really cared. He was pretty sure the man found it annoying at first, but Peter would hound his mentor to eat enough dinner, and sleep when they needed to. At first, Peter had tried to trick him into those things, simply by saying that he was hungry or tired, but Mr. Stark saw past that pretty quickly. 

In Peter’s defence, he wasn’t the best actor. 

So he had changed tactics, and soon enough he and Ms. Potts were ganging up on Mr. Stark to ensure the man was in good health. 

“I’ve created a monster,” the man mumbled to himself one day after Peter had carried in lunch to the lab. 

“A monster-filled with love, Mr. Stark,” was all Peter had said. 

Between Peter and Ms. Potts, though, Mr. Stark was eating and sleeping quite a bit more. 

But still, the trances continued. So it definitely wasn’t a lack of sleep, or they at least would have gotten a little bit better. 

He also noticed the man’s refusal to talk about the Rogues, as the media called them. In fact, when Peter had brought it up a couple of weeks ago, Mr. Stark had simply gone quiet for a few moments, before telling Peter that “It was better not to talk about them right now.” 

But, Peter never really gave up. 

“So, what happened after Happy took me back to the hotel in Germany?” Peter asked as they tinkered away in the lab. 

Mr. Stark froze. Literally, froze. Peter almost swore he heard his mentor’s blood turn to ice. He licked his lips, wondering if maybe he had pushed a little too much. Clearly, the relationship between the Rogues and Mr. Stark was on thin ice, but the look on Mr. Stark’s face right now said it was more than that. It was a look of pain, and of anger. Something bad definitely had happened.

“There was another fight, and Cap escaped,” Mr. Stark finally said, “That’s all you need to know.”

His tone was so sharp, and so full of pain, that Peter knew to stop pushing. He just nodded, and let the silence continue for a few moments as he tinkered with his suit. Mr. Stark seemed to stay frozen, in another one of his trances, and Peter thought it best to just leave him for a little bit. He didn’t like the fact that he hurt Mr. Stark by asking questions. 

It didn’t mean he was giving up though, it just meant he wasn’t going to get his answers from Mr. Stark. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter finally said, and the man twitched so violently Peter knew he had drawn him a stream of thought or memories, “Do you think you could come take a look at this? The heater started glitching last night, and I can’t seem to fix it.” 

That was a lie, and he was sure Mr. Stark knew it was too. Fixing the heater was something easy, especially for Peter. But the man smiled and made his way over to Peter, sniffling as he sat down beside the teen. 

“Thought you were supposed to be a genius, Pete,” Mr. Stark said as he grabbed the suit to take a look at it. 

“Pretty sure that title belongs to you, Mr. Stark,” 

. . . 

Peter didn’t really know how he was going to figure out what happened after Germany, and he really wasn’t in any rush. He wanted to figure it out eventually if just so he could know what was wrong with Mr. Stark. To know what haunted the man so deeply. But it wasn’t the most pressing issue. 

That was until Mr. Stark had sat Peter down before one of their Monday lab sessions with a serious look on his face. The first thought that came across Peter’s head was that he fucked up, again. How? He wasn’t sure. 

Well, that was a lie. There were a number of reasons Mr. Stark had to be upset with Peter. The first and foremost being that Peter had definitely gotten stabbed last night while out past his curfew, and didn’t tell Mr. Stark about it. Karen probably snitched. 

But Mr. Stark didn’t yell, shout, or tell Peter how he had “screwed the pooch.” Instead, the man just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked like he was inwardly debating how he was going to start speaking. It was then that Peter noticed the dark circles under the man’s eyes and the slightly dishevelled appearance. Clearly, something was wrong, and Peter was now inwardly debating if he should try to joke around to lighten the mood. 

“I’m going to be signing you out of school on Friday,” he said suddenly. 

And, ya. That got Peter’s attention. Sure, Fridays were their designated lab days (although, really, at this point, Peter was over at Mr. Stark’s lab whenever he had time...so every other day), they always happened after school. For a very specific, and important reason. That reason being that Peter was literally fifteen and in high school. And highschool was super important for getting a degree, which was important for getting a good job, which was important for living a good life, and so on and so forth. So ya, no. They never worked during the day, and Peter made a point to almost never miss any class.

“Uh,” he furrowed his eyebrows, “Why?” 

Mr. Stark sighed again, and Peter bristled. The man was obviously annoyed but based on how he was talking it wasn’t at him . So Karen didn’t snitch on him. 

Good to know. 

“Avenger shit,” Mr. Stark shrugged, “And Spider-Man is required. I told them to do it on a weekend, but apparently, they count Fridays as the weekend.” 

Peter nodded, not quite following. “Can I just like… not go? I have—” 

“If you say ‘homework’ again, I might just lock you out of the lab.” 

At least that got a smile out of Mr. Stark, which led to Peter smiling himself. 

“Ok, ok. Sorry, don’t lock me out,” he laughed, “But seriously. Why do they need Spider-Man? I’m not an Avenger.” 

“I know, and I told them that. But because me and a couple of the others helped out with the Lizard, and you’re wearing my tech, and the whole Vulture incident,” Mr. Stark waved a hand in the air, clearly suppressing another sigh, “SHIELD, and uh… the—the others, want Spidey there.” 

“Others?” 

“The Rogues,” 

Ah. And that was it, wasn’t it? That was why Mr. Stark seemed so tired and on edge today. It wasn’t because Peter messed up, it was because the Rogues were back and Mr. Stark didn’t like that for some reason. 

It seemed like Peter had to follow through with his plan of finding out what happened sooner than he had planned. 

“They’re back?” was all he said. 

Mr. Stark nodded, “The Accords are being fixed, and scrapped, for the most part. They were cleared of their crimes, on the condition that they stay at the Compound for the time being. Spidey and Iron Man were told to appear to make the, uh, the ‘transition’ home easy. Make it seem like we’re a team again.” 

The man sniffed, clearly uncomfortable, and stood up to make himself a coffee. Peter’s eyes followed him as he thought. It made sense for the most part. Having Iron Man show up would show the world that the Avengers were still together, and Spider-Man was a trusted and beloved vigilante in New York, so having him there would show that the Avengers could be trusted again. 

But still. There was clearly something more to the story. 

“Anyways, I want you to meet me here at… let’s say 8 AM Friday morning. We’ll drive to the compound together. I don’t want Happy picking you up, just in case,” Mr. Stark continued, “And you’ll keep your mask on at all times. No need to reveal your identity.” 

“And you won’t really need to do or say anything, just be there. We’re going to be staying over there for the night and then come back to SI Saturday night if everything goes to plan. It’s just going to be two days filled with ‘ team bonding ’ and Accords shit.”

And Peter swore that venom dripped from the way Mr. Stark said ‘team bonding’, but he chose not to mention it. It was clear that Mr. Stark was not looking forward to the meeting, or maybe he didn’t even want to go. 

“Ok, cool. You let Aunt May know, right?” the man sent Peter a look that said “no shit”, and Peter nodded. It was always safer to check, Mr. Stark wasn’t exactly known for being responsible. “So I just go there, keep my mask on, and be friendly?” 

“Yep,” Mr. Stark popped the p, “And I’m going to try to convince Nat to train you a bit. God knows you need it, Mr. ‘I-get-stabbed-at-least-twice-a-week’,” Peter scoffed at that, feigning offence, “And I’m definitely too old to even try to teach you. Figured we could keep it as strictly Spider business.” 

And that was when it hit Peter. 

“Wait, Nat, like, Natasha? Like, The Black Widow?” 

Mr. Stark paused, peering at Peter suspiciously. “Ya, exactly like the Black Widow,” he paused for a moment, “Out of curiosity, and this has nothing to do with your excitement over Nat, who’s your favourite Avenger?” 

“Thor,” Peter answered without hesitation, “Obviously.” 

“Oh ya, obviously . I guess I’ll just take back the Iron Spider suit then, make you a Thor-Spider suit instead since he’s your favourite and all,” Mr. Stark huffed, and Peter barked out a laugh. 

“What? Noo , Mr. Stark! Thor’s my favourite Avenger, but Tony Stark is my favourite scientist!” 

“Really? You like Tony Stark over Bruce Banner?” 

“Well, now that's just unfair Mr. Stark. Everyone knows Bruce Banner is revolutionary. And he’s got like, 10 PHDs,” 

“It’s 7,” he corrected Peter quickly, “And I’m sorry, but are you ignoring the fact that I made a literal new element?” 

Peter just laughed. 

“Ya, ya. Laugh it up Spider-Boy. Lab privileges and Iron-Spider suit privileges are still revoked,” Mr. Stark sent him a playful glare. 

Peter gave a fake gasp, hand over his chest for dramatics. The action made Mr. Stark chuckle into his coffee cup, and Peter counted that as a win. At least he was able to lighten the mood and make his mentor laugh. He’d just have to figure out why Mr. Stark was so wary about the Rogues soon. 

“So,” Peter said, “Lab?”

Mr. Stark smirked and nodded. 

. . 

It was admittedly a lot easier to convince F.R.I.D.A.Y to show Peter the Iron Man suit footage than he had thought it would be. Peter was sure he’d have to basically reprogram the poor AI just to be able to get the information, mainly because F.R.I.D.A.Y never, ever, betrayed Mr. Stark. 

But instead, all Peter had to say was, “But F.R.I, isn’t it important I know why Mr. Stark is so worried about the Rogues? So I can be prepared in case anything goes wrong? You wouldn’t want Mr. Stark or I to get hurt just because I didn’t have all the information, would you?” 

And ya, sure. It was a bit manipulative, but Peter knew he could get people wrapped around his finger, and he used it when he could. According to Aunt May, and even Uncle Ben, it was hard to say no to him. 

So, later that Monday night, after Peter had coerced Mr. Stark into falling asleep on the couch while watching Star Wars, Peter went into the lab to look over the footage. 

“I must remind you, Mr. Parker, that Boss did not want anyone knowing about this,” F.R.I.D.A.Y said as Peter opened the footage from the day he and Mr. Stark were in Germany. 

“Ya, I know F.R.I, I won’t tell anyone,” Peter said absentmindedly, “It’s just for me.”

That seemed to appease the AI and she quickly went silent.

There was a lot of footage from that day, unsurprisingly. Peter fast-forwarded all the bits he knew, specifically the parts from the airport. Although, it was still chilling to watch Mr. Rhodes fall from the sky from Mr. Stark’s perspective. He can’t imagine how scared both the men were at that moment. 

Nothing super important seemed to happen on that day though, so Peter fast-forwarded to the next couple of days. He watched as Mr. Stark visited the Rogues in the Raft, and saw how disgruntled the man was that his friends were in an underwater prison, not that he outwardly showed it.

After more fast-forwarding, the man was in Siberia, next to Captain America and the Winter Soldier. It seemed as though they had made up. After all, Mr. Stark was there to help them, to help keep them safe. He knew he had been partially in the wrong in Germany and with the Accords, and he was setting out to make it right. 

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. So, what happened? What made Mr. Stark so wary of the Rogues when it seemed like he was on fine terms with them even a couple of days after Germany. 

And then it happened. 

Through the footage, Peter saw Mr. Stark watch the film of the Winter Soldier killing his parents, and then the fight. 

Oh, God. The fight. 

It was an awful two versus one, and Peter was sure that Captain America was going to kill Mr. Stark when he brought the shield down. He was sure that he was aiming for Mr. Stark’s head, and despite knowing that the man came home alive, his heart still got caught in his throat.

 How could anyone do that to a friend? Sure, Peter didn’t fully understand the situation, but it seemed like Cap was really, truly, going to kill Mr. Stark. He could never imagine a scenario where Peter would be able to do that to Ned, or vice versa. 

And then Captain America and the Winter Soldier just left Mr. Stark laying in the cold with a broken Arc Reactor. Alone, in the cold, and with a heart that was barely functioning. 

It was awful, and Peter couldn’t believe it. 

No wonder Mr. Stark was so wary! Captain America nearly killed him! And the Winter Soldier killed his parents! It was completely normal to be scared to meet with those people again. And the more Peter thought about it, the angrier he got. Mr. Stark was a good friend now, practically family. And no one, absolutely no one , could treat Peter’s loved ones like that. 

And now they were making Mr. Stark face them again! And stay overnight, even. Just for what? Good publicity? 

That was when Peter decided that if Captain America, or the Winter Soldier, or really any of the Rogues did something against Mr. Stark on Friday or Saturday, he would not sit still. 

He stared at the paused feed for another couple of minutes with a clenched jaw. No matter how much he thought about it he just still couldn’t believe it. Sure, Mr. Stark probably messed up too, Peter knew the man wasn’t known for being kind and considerate of people, but it made sense to react that way to the person who killed your parents. And even to the person who lied about it! 

Finally, Peter closed the feed. It was late already, and Mr. Stark would be suspicious if he woke up and Peter wasn’t on the couch watching the movie. 

“F.R.I. can you, uh… not tell Mr. Stark that I was in here? Or that I saw this?” 

The AI was silent for a few moments, and Peter was sure she was going to deny him. After all, she was Mr. Stark’s AI, not Peter’s. But when she finally spoke all she said was “All right, Peter.” 

With a silent cheer, Peter made his way back to the couch. 

. . 

The rest of the week passed by without much incident. Peter patrolled some, avoided any life-threatening injuries, went and worked with Mr. Stark for a bit, and finished an English essay a day early. Honestly, it was a productive week, but Peter was pretty sure that was because of the pent up adrenaline from the pure anxiety he was feeling about Friday. 

Friday finally came, and Peter decided to leave his apartment around 7 AM. May had signed him out of school for the day, having spoken about the day with Mr. Stark the week before, but she still sighed a bit when he left. 

“Make sure you get notes and homework from Ned, please!” she called out after him. 

He shouted back an affirmation, because duh , of course, he would. Even though Peter’s grades had slipped a bit after he first became Spider-Man he stayed on top of them now. He couldn’t lose his scholarship, after all. 

He took the subway part way to the tower, before getting off and sneaking into an ally-way to change into his suit. Mr. Stark wanted Peter there as Spider-Man, not as Peter, so it made sense for him to swing there. Peter was pretty sure it wouldn’t be all that suspicious if he showed up as himself, but it was better safer than sorry, he supposed. 

By the time he got to the Tower and was up at Mr. Stark’s personal floor, it was 7:50, which was perfect, in his mind. It was always good to be early, but not too early, and ten minutes hit that sweet spot perfectly. 

The first thing he noticed on the floor was the smell of pancakes. Like, really good smelling pancakes, ones that weren’t burnt. Because Peter definitely knew what burnt pancakes smelled like between him and Aunt May. Neither of them were very skilled in the kitchen, and once Peter had actually caught a batch of pancakes on fire. How? He wasn’t quite sure. 

“Mr. Stark? Are you cooking?” he called out as he made his way into the kitchen. 

But instead, he was greeted with long, orange hair that seemed to glow in the morning light. Pepper turned and let out a light laugh, motioning for Peter to come and sit down, and Peter couldn’t help but let out a chuckle in return. What could he say? Her laugh was infectious.

 “Have you ever seen Tony cook, Peter?” 

He shook his head, “No, but he talks about how he makes good pasta.” 

“Sure, if you like that pasta on fire,” the woman shrugged and went back to flipping the pancakes. 

“ What ?” Peter laughed, jumping up to sit on the counter before Pepper swatted him off. 

“He’ll tell you it was an isolated incident, but it wasn’t. I swear to God every time that man walks into the kitchen something either breaks or catches fire.” 

Peter chuckled, trying to imagine the chaos in the kitchen after his mentor caught something on fire. But then again, it was good to know he wasn’t the only one that caused kitchen fires. And yet, at the same time, it sounded like Mr. Stark caused a lot. It was impossible to be a genius at everything, Peter supposed.

“Are you two gossiping about me?” Mr. Stark walked in, looking more put together than Peter had ever seen, at least in person. This was Mr. Stark’s ‘Interview’ look, and it showed Peter just how important the meeting was to the man. He hadn’t seen the Rogues in months, ever since the fight, and now he was suddenly going to be put into a room with them, and they were supposed to have a civil conversation. 

Peter laid a hand over his chest in mocked offence, “Us? Never . Pepper’s just making pancakes.” 

“Oh, she’s Pepper now? When did that happen? And why am I still Mr. Stark?” Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow. 

“A few weeks now,” Pepper shrugged, laying out a plate of pancakes in front of Peter, “He likes me more.” 

“I was bribed,” Peter answered, his mouth already full of food. 

“Well I can bribe you,” Mr. Stark answered, before declining any of the breakfast from Pepper with a shake of his head. Instead, he moved to make himself a cup of coffee, “And swallow before you speak, gremlin.”

Peter nodded, making a show as he swallowed his food before speaking, “No you can’t, not like Pepper.” 

Mr. Stark sent Pepper a look, and she just smiled, “His girlfriend wanted to meet me, and I said I would, but only if he stopped calling me Ms. Potts.” 

“Not my girlfriend!” 

“Well your girlfriend can come meet me, and then you can start calling me Tony. Mr. Stark makes me feel like my dad. And old. Neither are good.” 

“Not my girlfriend,” Peter repeated, “Her name is MJ, and she hates you, Mr. Stark. She says you’re the face of capitalism.” 

Pepper laughed, and Mr. Stark looked only slightly offended, but there was a tinge of a smile on his face. He sighed in disgust, sitting down beside Peter with his coffee. 

“Whatever,” he shook his head, “Go get changed into your suit and mask. We leave in 15.” 

Peter nodded and shoved the last bit of his pancakes in his mouth before running to get changed, ignoring Mr. Stark’s “And eat slower!”

He changed as quickly as he could, shoving his ‘Peter Parker’ clothes into the guest room that Pepper and Mr. Stark had set up for him. It had been Pepper’s idea after Mr. Stark and Peter had spent one too many late nights in the lab. It was rather bare, just a room with a bed and neutral sheets, but it was still a nice gesture. 

He made his way back to the kitchen, stopping before he rounded the corner when he heard Mr. Stark and Pepper having a hushed conversation. He froze in his steps, refusing to make his presence known. 

“Just be careful, Tony,” he heard Pepper say.

She was using her ‘no bullshit’ voice, as Mr. Stark called it, and Peter knew they were talking about something serious. Something they didn’t want Peter to hear about since they waited until he was upstairs. So he stayed hidden around the corner. Technically it wasn’t eavesdropping, because he hadn’t meant to stumble across the conversation. Or at least, that was what he was going to tell himself.

Mr. Stark sighed, and Peter could imagine the man running a tired hand through his hair, messing up how put together it looked. 

“I know, it’s just—” there was a pause, and Peter was tempted to take a peek to see what was happening, but decided against it, “I’m just nervous, I need this to go well.” 

So it was about the meeting? Peter knew he was nervous about meeting the Rogues again! That just set it in stone for Peter that he had to be there for Mr. Stark over the weekend. Obviously, the man worked up about the Rogues, probably mostly about Steve, and it was Spider-Man’s job to protect and help people wherever he could. 

“You know, you could just—” whatever Pepper was going to say was cut off by F.R.I.D.A.Y. 

“If I may, Peter is on his way down,” there was a little bit of snark in her voice, and Peter was, once again, gobsmacked about how Mr. Stark could make an AI that had such human-like emotions. 

But the awe wore off when he realized that the AI just ratted him out more or less. He rolled his eyes with a huff and waited another few moments before walking back into the kitchen, mumbling a few choice words to F.R.I under his breath. 

“Geez, took you long enough kid,” Tony joked, the tense air that was there between him and Pepper was completely gone now. 

“You boys better get a move on, Happy doesn’t like being made to wait,” Pepper ushered them out. 

Peter nodded, he’d definitely made the poor man wait on more than one occasion, and Happy mentioned every time just how much he hated it. Apparently, he was a very busy man with lots to do. Peter wondered how true that was, but never commented on it. Insulting the person driving you around was never a good idea. 

“Oh and Peter?” Pepper stopped them before they left, holding out bars in her hand, “Take a couple of granolas with you please, Tony tells me you get hungry easily, and I have a feeling there won’t be snacks available in the meeting.” 

Peter shot the woman a grateful smile and grabbed the granola bars from her. “Thanks, Pepper!” 

Mr. Stark just scoffed, “I would’ve fed him, I can take care of a Spider-baby.” 

. . 

The drive over was mostly quiet, aside from Peter’s slight babbling about meeting the Avengers. Sure, he didn’t know how he felt about them right now in the moral sense, but… well it was hard to shake off the hero worship. Happy kept the divider down, but there was a scowl on his face that Peter knew too well. It was the one that said he wasn’t happy about what was about to happen. Usually, he had that scowl on his face when they were about to get stuck in traffic, but Peter figured it might have something to do with the Rogues. 

And, well, Peter got that. He couldn’t even stop thinking about them, or what he saw over the feed. The absolute fear and betrayal Mr. Stark must have felt when Captain America did what he did… and the fear of being left alone after having his chest busted it. Peter couldn’t suppress the shiver that went down his spine. 

“You cold there?” Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow. 

Peter shook his head, “Nah, just a random shiver. It’s fine.” 

And that was the end of that. They spent the rest of the ride in absolute silence, and Peter pretended to not notice the side glances he was getting not only from Mr. Stark but also from Happy. He supposed it wasn’t usual for him to be this quiet. But he had to collect his thoughts! It was important. 

First of all, this was an important post-Accords meeting, so he couldn’t mess it up. And that was enough pressure on him already. But Peter also had to figure out how to keep Mr. Stark a safe distance away from Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Peter had only seen the man panic before, once in the lab (and it had been a complete accident too, he had come early, and Mr. Stark swore him to secrecy about it), but he knew he didn’t want his mentor to go through that again. 

But he had to act civil and friendly enough that Mr. Stark wouldn’t know he had seen the footage, and so that the Rogues wouldn’t be offended enough to end the meeting. 

Ugh. 

Sometimes Peter wishes he never got bitten by that stupid spider, and that he just lived life as a normal teenage boy. 

. . 

“—ete, hey. Wake up,”

Peter opened his eyes blearily, wincing slightly as they registered the light. “Where…?” he began, before shaking his head slightly, “Oh. Oh. I fell asleep, didn’t I? I’m so sorry Mr. Stark!”

The man just snorted and pushed up his sunglasses. Peter looked around frantically, glad his mask was still on to hide his flushed face. He couldn’t believe he had fallen asleep during the car ride. What was he? Six? God, that’s so embarrassing. 

“Let's get a move on, they're expecting us in five,” Mr. Stark motioned Peter out of the car, and he did so as quickly as he could. 

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just overtired? Like between patrol, and like this English essay I’ve been working on, and I’m in a philosophy class right now? Because MJ convinced me it would be fun? But it actually feels like I sit through an hour of Hell every day and I kind of hate it, and there is just so much reading. I have no idea why I let her convince me to take it, I hate it so mu—” 

Mr. Stark cut him off with nothing more than a slightly amused look, and Peter was pretty sure the entire building could hear him snap his jaw shut. 

“Secret identity, ya. No talking about like. Life things. Only Spidey things got it. Got it,” Peter nodded, and Mr. Stark only snorted again. 

Apparently, he was a man of little words today. 

Or he just wanted to see Peter make a fool of himself. 

It was probably the latter, but Peter was going to pretend otherwise. 

The pair made their way towards the center of the compound, and Peter couldn’t help but drop his jaw at the gigantic window that overlooked beautiful scenery. He was still attached to the Tower, don’t get him wrong, but wow, the view here was definitely better. No competition.

Mr. Stark kept a hand on Peter’s shoulder as if he knew that all he wanted to do was run around and look at everything. And, well, he probably did know that, but it was still nice to have a grounding force. 

Peter was just about to ask Mr. Stark when the others were arriving when he heard a series of footsteps getting closer. His body stiffened slightly, ready to be on alert, and ready for an attack, despite the fact that his Spidey Sense wasn’t going off at all. 

Which was weird, sure, but it wasn’t like the thing worked 24/7.

“Tony,” a deep and warm voice entered the room, “It’s good to see you again.”

Mr. Stark turned towards the entrance, and Peter watched as he raised his chin, pushed up his glasses, and put on his picture-perfect image. “Likewise, Capsicle.”

Peter watched with slightly wide eyes, once again grateful that no one could see the look on his face as all of his childhood heroes entered the room. But now wasn’t the time to fanboy. Plus he had met Black Widow and Hawkeye once before, and really, they weren’t all that cool. They were more of an annoyance. 

He just had to keep that in mind. 

In the back, he could hear Hawkeye groan and run a hand over his face, “God, this guy ? Again?”

Peter scoffed, “Rude.” 

Captain America sent the other man a bewildered look, and Mr. Stark just shook his head. 

“You guys know each other?” the blonde sounded surprised, and Peter wondered why he was confused. They all saw him at the airport. Hell, Captain America even dropped a jetway on him. 

But Stever clarified himself before Peter could say anything. “Why are you so annoyed at him?” 

Hawkeye rolled his eyes and straightened up. He opened his mouth to say something, but Black Widow quickly cut him off. “He’s scared of bug boy.” 

And, strangely, no one seemed to question that. Maybe it was a well-known fact that Hawkeye was scared of bugs, or spiders. Or, Peter thought back to Hawkeye’s reaction when he was sticking to the wall, maybe it was just well-known that Hawkeye didn’t like things that could climb and stick to things. 

Either way, “Spiders are arachnids, not bugs,” he pointed out. 

“ God , he’s a nerd too? This just keeps getting worse.” 

“Stop being so dramatic, Legolas. Ignore the kid, he’s just here to listen,” Mr. Stark cut in. 

Peter sent him a disgruntled look, though through the mask all Mr. Stark, or anyone else, could see was the slight narrowing of the eyes. The man was clearly trying to stop him from talking too much, which. Ya, fair enough. Peter was a bit of a blabbermouth. But it wasn’t like he was going to reveal his identity in all of five minutes! 

“I’m still not entirely clear why you brought him along, Tony,” Captain America began, before turning to look at Peter, “No offence, Spider-Man.” 

“Offence taken,” Peter mumbled under his breath, earning him a sharp look from Mr. Stark that he was somehow able to see through the glasses. 

“SHIELD thought he’d be good for the press, and Nat agreed.” 

That made the Captain turn back and look at Black Widow, who just shrugged. She apparently hadn’t told the others, as everyone looked a varied degree of surprise. 

“Well, he’s not an Avenger, so I’d rather he not be part of the important discussions. He can just be there for the press conference,” Captain America continued. 

And jeez, what was this guy's problem? Mr. Stark had asked him to be an Avenger, and he said no! But that meant that he was clearly ready to be an Avenger, whether or not he was wasn’t important. Plus, Peter wasn’t going to leave Mr. Stark’s side for the whole weekend, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave the man alone with the Rogues. 

Mr. Stark just sighed, “You can trust him, Steve. I do, and I know he isn’t going to interfere with the discussions or anything. He’s just here to look pretty. Isn’t that right kid?” 

Peter nodded enthusiastically. Sit and look pretty, he could do that. To prove his point he drew a line over his mouth and pretended to lock it and throw away the key. He’d be perfectly silent. 

“Trust has to be earned, Tony,”

And Mr. Stark stiffened at that. 

And really? Really? Did Captain America really just say that to the person he betrayed ? Fuck him. Honestly? Fuck. Him. 

Peter went to take a step forward, to get in Captain America’s face and yell at him, or something. Really, he didn’t know what he was going to do, but he couldn’t just let the man talk to his mentor like that! Mr. Stark was a good man, and he didn’t deserve this. 

But Mr. Stark gripped his shoulder more tightly, and Peter stilled. He noticed that Captain America and the others had slightly tensed when Peter moved forward, and he assumed Mr. Stark did too. 

Right. No fighting. Fighting would mean bad press, and that would mean that Peter royally fucked up his only job. Sit and look pretty. That was all he needed to do. 

“See, Tony? He’s clearly too young, too emotional for this. I don’t want him in the room while we’re discussing sensitive things, like the Accords, and risk him fighting another teammate just because they said something he didn’t like?” 

And Peter felt his blood turn to fire. That was it, that was the last straw. Captain America was lecture Mr. Stark, of all people, to not fight their teammates. 

“Steve, really, he—”

“You know what? No, fuck you, Captain,” Peter spat out, “You don’t get to lecture people on not fighting teammates, considering you left yours for dead.” 

The look of pure shock on the man’s face was enough for Peter to feel just a little bit proud of himself and gave him maybe a little bit too much courage. Without even thinking about it, Peter raised a fist and went to punch the man. He didn’t even register what he was doing until his fist collided with the Captain’s shield. 

And ya, that was expected. No way could Peter actually punch Captain America. The other man was way more skilled and had way more training. Peter could barely dodge a knife from some low-level criminal. 

What wasn’t expected, though, was that Peter couldn’t pull his fist away . He tugged gently, trying not to draw attention to that absolute clusterfuck that was happening right now, but it was to no avail. 

Fuck.

“Whoa,” Mr. Stark’s hand came to Peter’s shoulder again, squeezing it gently, “Stand down there Spidey.” 

Peter looked up at Mr. Stark, shying away when he saw the man peering down at him through his sunglasses with displeased eyes, his lips drawn in a tight line. He tugged again, but nope. Still stuck. 

“Didn’t know that Spider-boy had a temper,” he heard someone laugh, but he wasn’t quite sure who, “Thought he was all chatterbox and butterflies.”

“Shut up Sam,” that was Black Widow, and there was a certain venom in her voice that Peter did not want to hear again. 

Hawkeye, though, let out a laugh. “Fuck, I wish he had decked Steve. None of us saw that coming.”

Captain America was oddly quiet and just stared down at Peter in mild shock. And ya, that felt good. Freaking out the Avenger was apparently Peter’s new favourite thing to do. 

“Spidey. Kid,” Mr. Stark tried again, “let go of the shield.”

Peter pressed his lips together, not really wanting to admit his predicament, but also not knowing another way out of this. 

“I can’t,” he whispered. 

Captain America and the Winter Soldier each gave him a weird look, one that clearly said “why the fuck not”, and Peter was suddenly reminded that he wasn’t the only one with super hearing in the room. 

“Come again?” Mr. Stark raised an unimpressed eyebrow. 

Peter cleared his throat, shifting slightly before giving a harder tug, one that pulled both the shield and Captain America forward half an inch. 

“I can’t,” he said again, “I’m stuck.” 

And the room went so silent Peter swore he could have heard a pin drop. He shifted uncomfortably, his arm starting to tingle with tiredness as it was held upright. Then, a loud laugh broke out, catching Peter completely by surprise and making him jump. 

He looked back at Mr. Stark, who was covering his mouth to hide his laugh, but nothing could hide the shaking shoulders. Soon enough, the rest of the team were in their own fits of giggles. Even Captain America found the scene funny. Peter just stood there, his face flushed with embarrassment. If he could move right now, without dragging the shield and Captain America that is, he would definitely be running away. 

“You’re stuck ,” and that was Hawkeye again, who was just about in tears from laughter. 

“That’s what I said,” Peter all but huffed. 

“How does that even happen?” 

“I just—” Peter took a breath, “I just stick to things! I don’t know! It’s not an exact science!” 

“I thought it was your suit?” 

“It’s him,” Mr. Stark answered for him, sobering up slightly, “But I thought you could control it.” 

“I can!” Peter’s voice cracked and fuck. Could this day get any worse? “It’s just… I dunno, sometimes it has a mind of its own! Like when I’m upset or something, clearly.” 

“Clearly,” Mr. Stark sniffed. 

Peter tugged again, a little hard this time, willing for his hand to just come off the stupid shield. But once again, it just pulled Captain America and the shield closer to him. 

His shoulders hunched. It seemed like he was just going to have to wait this off. If it was anything like when he first got his powers it would just get worse the more he struggled. He just needed to relax, and not think about the embarrassment he was facing right now. 

Steve cleared his throat, clearly trying to suppress another laugh, and Peter couldn’t help but be thankful for that. 

‘“Well, uh… I’ll just let go of the shield for now. You just give it back, uh, when you un-stick,” the man gingerly let go and it took everything in Peter’s strength to not let his arm flop to the floor like a rag doll. 

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Peter mumbled, “Just gotta relax.” 

“Oo, Bug-boy meditates,” Hawkeye let out another laugh, only for the Black Widow to elbow him in the side. 

“Spider-Man,” Peter corrected, but there was no heat in his voice, and everyone just ignored him.

“We’re going to wait in the meeting room,” she said, giving the group a pointed look, “You two join us when he’s free.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Mr. Stark nodded. 

And with varying degrees of willingness, the Rogues all excited the room. Peter waited until he heard their footsteps recede down the hall into another room before he let himself collapse on the ground. 

“Stupid spider, stupid sticking,” he mumbled, tugging his stuck hand, and trying to use his other to push the shield away. 

Mr. Stark just looked at him, and for once Peter couldn’t read the man’s eye through his sunglasses. He couldn’t tell if Mr. Stark was about to tell Peter how “he screwed the pooch” again, or if he was just going to be annoyed with him for the rest of the day. Either way, Peter’s shoulders tensed as Mr. Stark leaned down, only relaxing slightly when the man dropped all the way to the floor to sit beside Peter.

“So,” the man began, drawing the word out slightly. 

“So,” Peter repeated. 

Mr. Stark seemed to have an inward debate for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses and leveling Peter with a stare. And ya, Peter wasn’t so sure if he actually wanted to be able to read Mr. Stark’s face right now. Because he didn’t look angry, or at least not ferry-incident level angry, but he didn’t look all too pleased either. It was the type of look that Ben used to give Peter when he would come up from school upset when he knew Peter was hiding something important from him. 

“Mind enlightening me about why you suddenly decided to attack Captain America?” Mr. Stark finally said. 

Peter huffed, and honestly, if he didn’t have a literal vibranium shield attached to his hand, he would have left. He didn’t feel like coming clean about looking at the feed, nor did he feel like telling Mr. Stark that he was protective over him. But, he didn’t really have much of a choice. 

“He was insulting you,” Peter decided to say. 

And that made Mr. Stark raise his eyebrows even more. Peter was pretty sure he was going to be the cause of Mr. Stark’s forehead wrinkles at this point. 

“I’m pretty certain you didn’t decide to punch Capiscle across the face just because he was being a little bit mean to me,”

Peter pressed his lips together, not wanting to admit to going behind Mr. Stark’s back. But he was getting a look from Mr. Stark that said he didn’t really have much of a choice in this. Plus, he couldn’t really leave while still attached to this stupid shield. 

“I saw the feed,” Peter started, eyeing the way Mr. Stark tensed at that, “Of Siberia. With you, Captain America, and the Winter Soldier.” 

Mr. Stark took a deep, shaky, breath, and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh.” 

“I convinced F.R.I.D.A.Y to show it to me, and… well... It's just not fair Mr. Stark! What he did to you was just—just awful! I couldn’t believe my eyes. And then you’ve been so tense and nervous leading up to this whole thing, and this morning I heard you and Pepper talking about how nervous you were, and then when we got here he was saying all these things about trust, even though he betrayed your trust, and I! I just couldn’t stand to listen to it anymore. And I know it wasn’t right for me to eavesdrop this morning, or to watch the feed, but I was just worried because you were acting so off, and I—”

Mr. Stark raised a hand, and Peter snapped his mouth shut, wincing slightly as his teeth hit each other. 

“There’s a lot to unpack here and trust me, we’re definitely going to be talking about you somehow convincing F.R.I to do things she’s not supposed to do, and about you using your super hearing when you should, and about whatever hero-complex you have that makes you feel like you need to protect me—” Mr. Stark took a breath, “But kid. I wasn’t nervous today because of Steve. He’s harmless, really.” 

Peter sent Mr. Stark a look, his eyes narrowing. He wouldn’t call Captain America harmless. 

“Yes, we got into a nasty fight, and yes, things are a little tense right now, but he and I have talked it over. We’re not—shit, why am I telling you this— we’re not what we were, but we both messed up, and we’re on the road to forgiveness.” 

Peter eyed Mr. Stark carefully, looking for any signs that the man was lying. But it didn’t look like he was. 

“Then why—”

“I was nervous about you . I didn’t want to tell you this, because I didn’t want to freak you out, but clearly, that didn’t work,” he rolled his eyes, “Ross has been on my ass about Spider-Man. Wants to know your identity and whatnot”

And ya, that made Peter stressed. Having the secretary of state after him definitely wasn’t on his bucket list, but it seemed Parker Luck just had to keep striking. 

“I was worried he was going to ambush us today, so I was worried. But clearly, he hasn’t. And even if he did, you’re in safe hands,” Mr. Stark continued, “I won’t let him get to you. Even if he wanted to, he doesn’t have the Accord backing him anymore, so he can’t force you to reveal yourself. He’s just throwing a hissy fit.” 

Peter nodded numbly, unsure of what else to say. This was definitely an unwelcome development, one he wouldn’t have even imagined. What does Ross want with Spider-Man ? All Spider-Man did was swing around and stop minor burglaries and grand theft bicycles. Plus that one stint with the Lizard… and that one time in Germany… and the one time with the Vulture. And ok, ya. Sure, Peter was beginning to see how Spider-Man was starting to fight more than petty thieves, but still . He wasn’t a threat. There was no need for the government to need to look into him. 

Snapping in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Kid, hey, look. You’ve got me on your side, nothing's gonna happen, ok? He’s just being a pain.” 

Peter nodded again, “Ya. Ok, Mr. Stark.” 

“And I was gonna bring it up during the meeting, so the rest of the team will have your back too. Nothing to worry about,” 

It seemed all Peter could do in this situation was nod. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mr. Stark, or that he didn’t trust the Avengers (though really, the jury was still out for some of them), but he just never felt so cornered before. No one had ever really tried to find out his identity. And if they did then Aunt May, Ned, MJ, Hell, even the entirety of Midtown could be in danger because of him. He couldn’t let that happen. 

“Good, alright then sticky fingers, let’s find a way to get you off this,” Mr. Stark continued. 

But Peter was so tense right now he didn’t think he could concentrate on de-sticking. Honestly, he didn’t even know this could still happen to him, but clearly, he was wrong. Apparently, if his emotions were strong enough his body just forgot how to turn the sticking thing off. 

But then, a phone was in front of his face, showing him the picture of Pepper looking for frazzled than Peter had ever seen her before. And there was cake and icing all over her face, as she placed her hands on her hips with somehow both an angry and a distressed look on her face. Peter could practically hear her through the photo, and let out a loud laugh. 

It seemed that was all he needed to de-stress and de-stick, as he felt the tightness between his fist and the shield loosen, and fell back right into Mr. Stark. The man placed his hands on his shoulder, holding him upright, and let out a chuckle. 

“Now don’t tell Pep I showed you that, I was supposed to delete it two years ago,” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

“No, of course not, Mr. Stark,” Peter laughed. 

He stood up, offering a hand to Mr. Stark to help him up as the man mumbled something about his “stupid, old joints,” and picked up the shield. 

“Right,” Mr. Stark put his sunglasses back on, “We better get into the meeting room.” 

Peter nodded and followed closely behind the man. And well, he was still stressed about the whole Ross thing, but if Mr. Stark said he had it handled, then Peter trusted him. But for now, it seemed like Mr. Stark and he were only getting closer and closer, and it was something that Peter was grateful for. 

He nudged the man slightly in the shoulder, and with a shit-eating grin he said, “I always knew you cared, Mr. Stark.”

Mr. Stark let out a laugh and only pushed Peter forward, not dignifying him with a response. But Peter knew what he wanted to say, so it didn’t matter if he said it out loud.

Chapter Text

Having the Rogues back was… weird, to say the least. There was still tension between a few of them, notably between Captain America and Mr. Stark. The others had, more or less, settled into the Compound rather easily, but Captain America couldn’t seem to wrap his head around why Mr. Stark wouldn’t stay at the Compound with the rest of them, couldn’t figure out why the man “only” visited three to five times a week, instead of being there every day. And Mr. Stark… well, Peter still thought he looked tense, no matter how much the man denied it. 

Then there was the whole Ross thing. Mr. Stark had forbidden Peter from revealing his identity to any of the Avengers, just in case one of them accidentally let it leak. Peter had tried to reason with his mentor, mainly because it was really annoying to have to wear the mask all the time. Plus, Mr. Stark had introduced them to Peter, as his intern. Not as Spider-Man. So then the Avengers knew Spider-Man, and knew Peter, but didn’t know they were one and the same. Then there was the added bit of Peter being on summer vacation now, so more often than not he spent his days with Mr. Stark, either at the compound or the Tower. 

And the whole situation had started to make Peter’s head hurt. 

“But Mr. Stark, ” Peter absolutely did not whine, “You literally work with them, and they all hate Ross anyways! No one’s gonna go around telling people that a fifteen-year-old is Spider-Man.”

“None of them, except for Nat and Clint, have ever, and I really do mean ever , kept a secret. They may not mean to tell people who you are, but they might do it by accident,” the man sighed as he put down his tools. 

He was clearly tired of having this conversation, considering it was the third time this week Peter had brought it up. But Peter was nothing if not stubborn. 

“Says you, Mr. ‘Why don’t I tell everyone I’m Iron Man during a Press Conference that has nothing to do with it’”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Mr. Stark pointed a finger at him with a sharp look, “Now stop asking about it.”

Peter bit his lip, weighing his options. He could just drop it altogether, or he could bother the man until he finally caved. Pepper had once told him that no one could say “no” to Peter, and for a while, Peter believed her, until he remembered that Mr. Stark could say “no” to him. But maybe he could break the man down one day. 

But it turned out he didn’t have to worry about it. Because on one innocent-seeming Friday evening, Mr. Stark had brought Peter to the Compound so he could show off some Avengers tech. He had said it was to teach Peter about how to repair Avengers tech, just in case he ever needed to, but Peter knew the man just wanted to show off. 

And Peter was totally fine with that because Avengers tech was really freakin’ cool. 

But it had ended in a bit of a sticky disaster, one that included Peter’s web-shooters and Nat’s Widow Bites. 

Mr. Stark had let Peter work on the Bites, claiming they were easy enough that Peter would be able to do it but complicated enough that he would have a challenge with it. And he was right. It had taken Peter a good two hours of fiddling with the bites, and the occasional question to Mr. Stark, but he had done it. And he was proud of it. 

So, without a second thought, he left Mr. Stark’s lab to bring the Bites up to Nat. She was sitting in the common area, watching Hawkeye, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon play a video game. He’d even bribed Mr. Stark to come, with the promise of fresh coffee, though it was really because he wanted the man to see Nat’s reaction. 

What could he say? Peter liked showing off. 

“Hey Nat!” he said. 

“Nat?” Mr. Stark gave Peter a look, and all Peter could do was shrug, “You’ll call her, and Pepper, by their first names, but not me ? Your literal boss?” 

“She’s scary.”

“And I’m Iron Man,” he said as if it was all that needed to be said. Which, to be fair, might’ve worked on Peter if he didn’t know how much of a dork Mr. Stark was.

“Like I said, she’s scary. So is Pepper.”

“I should fire you for this treachery. You should always be scared of your boss,” Mr. Stark sniffed. 

Peter just shrugged and turned back to Nat and the rest of the Avengers. In reality, he only began to call her Nat because the one time he’d called her “Mrs. Romanoff” she had glared at him so hard that he was actually thankful to be alive. 

“I fixed your Widow Bites for you! Mr. Stark let me do it because he said I needed the practice, or the challenge, or whatever. And honestly, it was super cool. Like, the mechanics are so intense, considering how small the thing is, y’know? But also I noticed that it isn’t like, water-proof, or anything, and like… wouldn’t you want it to be water-proof? In case they ever get wet? Cause if they get wet won’t you electrocute yourself? I mean, that should happen but—” 

“The kid raises a good point, Tony. Why aren’t they water-proof?” Nat cut him off, and Peter swore he could see the hint of a smile on her face. 

“First he betrays me, and now he’s coming for my job. Jeez,” Mr. Stark threw his hands up in the air, “Just give her the Bites kid, and go make me coffee like a regular intern.” 

Peter nodded and went to hand Nat her Bites. He held them firmly in his hands and had only taken a step forward to give them to Nat when his Spidey Sense went off. Immediately, Peter went rigid, and looked around for whatever danger there might be, but saw nothing. Nothing except for the Avengers giving him weird looks, that is. 

And that was when it hit. 

Apparently, he hadn’t fixed the Bites perfectly, and apparently, there was an exposed wire that made the whole thing faulty. Which would have totally been fine, in any normal situation. Sure, it would’ve shocked Peter, but that was it. But, instead, the stupid things sent an electric shock straight to Peter’s web-shooters. And this was the only time in his life that Peter regretted wearing the things on his wrists 24/7. 

Within seconds, his web-shooters exploded and the room was filled with Sticky webs. 

And honestly, it would’ve been hard to explain off, but Peter could have just said he had also been fixing Spider-Man’s things and wanted to test them off. Sure, Nat and Hawkeye probably wouldn’t have believed him, they were spies after all, but the rest would have. Probably. 

But no, he couldn’t do that, because Peter was stupid. A down-right idiot. 

Because the second he felt the explosion, he ripped the shooters off his wrists and flung himself onto the ceiling, where he (very happily, he might add) avoided most of the sticky mess. Unlike the rest of the Avengers who were now covered in webs. 

So, ya. He was counting that as a win. 

But based on how the Avengers were currently looking at him, Nat with a raised eyebrow, Hawkeye with a grimace, Mr. Stark in pure… embarrassment, and the others in varying degrees of surprise, he knew the cat was out of the bag. 

There was a beat of silence as if no one knew what to say, before Mr. Stark finally waved his hand, signaling for Peter to come down. Instead, Peter shook his head and found himself backing up into a corner on the ceiling. 

“Peter,” Mr. Stark lowered his sunglasses and raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “Come down from there.” 

“I kinda feel like you’re gonna yell at me if I do Mr. Stark, so I’m ok up he—” Peter was cut off by his Spidey Sense, and immediately shot his hands up in the air to catch an orange that was flying towards him. 

Wait.

An orange ?

“I— Hawkeye, did you just throw an orange at me?” Peter asked incredulously, already knowing who did without having to ask. 

“That's how I usually get rid of spiders at home,” Hawkeye shrugged, “And it’s Clint.” 

“Sure, Mr. Clint. But I really think we need to talk about treating spiders better,” Peter tossed the orange back to him. 

“Sorry to interrupt… whatever is going on here… but are you just using an insane amount of core strength to still be sitting up like that, or…?” Mr. Stark cut in.

“I told you,” Peter shrugged as he jumped down, deciding that Mr. Stark seemed calm enough. Plus he didn’t really want Mr. Clint to throw anything else at him to get him down, and by the way, the man was eyeing multiple things in the room, he knew he would, “I’m sticky.” 

“I thought it was just your hands and feet,” 

“I never said that. All of me is sticky, it's just more comfortable to use my hands and feet.” 

Before Mr. Stark could say anything more on the matter, the Falcon suddenly coughed and gave everyone in the room a look that even Peter knew meant bad news.

“So we’re all just going to ignore the fact that Stark’s twelve-year-old intern is Spider-Man? ” the Falcon asked, raising his voice just enough to show how displeased he was, “You seriously help a kid fight crime, Stark?” 

Mr. Stark just rolled his eyes, “You try stopping him. He’s a twelve-year-old menace.” 

“I’m sixteen in like a month,” 

“Oh ya, that makes it so much better,” the man rolled his eyes, and then turned to the Winter Soldier, “You seriously have no problem that we fought a literal child just a few months ago?” 

“I mean, he’s not much younger than me and Steve when we joined the war,” the other man shrugged, “So no. And don’t worry Peter, Sam’s just mad you wiped the floor with him.”

Peter smiled at that, “Thanks, Mr. Winter Soldier!”

“Seriously, though. Stop with the Superhero names. Call me Bucky,” and the only reason Peter agreed to that was the look behind Bucky’s eyes.

He remembered Mr. Stark telling Peter about how Bucky had been brainwashed when he was the Winter Soldier, so ya, he probably didn’t like being called that. It made sense, and Peter had no issue with calling him Bucky. 

“Sure thing, Mr. Bucky,” Peter smirked. 

Or, well, as close to Bucky as he could. The whole “Mr.” thing started off as a sign of respect, and only led into a bit of a joke for Peter when he saw how uncomfortable and frustrated it made the other Avengers. As for Mr. Stark… well it was half a joke, and half out of respect. It felt weird to call the man he admired for so long by his first name, even if they were close now. 

Plus, Peter didn’t want to cross any undefined boundaries. He definitely saw Mr. Stark as a mentor, and a friend, maybe even a bit of a father figure, but he didn’t want to impose anything on the man. He knew Mr. Stark wasn’t the best at emotions, so it probably wasn’t the best idea to wait for him to say something about it… but still. Peter didn’t want to ruin it. 

“God, you’re annoying and creepy. Can we kick you off the team?” Hawk—no, Clint said,  bringing Peter out of his thoughts. 

“I’ve tried it. Can’t seem to get him to unstick though,” Mr. Stark chuckled. 

“God, that was so bad , Mr. Stark. Leave the sticky jokes to me,” Peter rolled his eyes. 

“I think he fits in just fine,” was all Nat said. 

Peter smiled brightly before turning on his heels, “The webs will wear off in two hours guys!” 

“Peter, no,” that was Mr. Stark’s angry voice, and it only made Peter walk away faster, “Get the web dissolvant.”

“Sorry! Chem quiz tomorrow, and I promised Ned I’d facetime him to study!” he called out as he left. 

All he could hear was various shouts of “Pete? Peter!” 

.. 

And that was how it started. The rest of the team had found out about Peter’s secret identity through word of mouth, and no one really seemed to have an issue with it. If anything, they all accepted him into the team pretty well. Or they just ignored him. It was half and half, really.

Captain Americ— Steve , seemed to be a bit… annoyed at first. Peter had caught him and Mr. Stark having whispered conversations, which mostly seemed to end with Mr. Stark throwing his hands up in the air in frustration and walking off. Steve also spoke to Peter the least out of all the Avengers, but Peter was fine with that. Mr. Stark may have forgiven the man, but Peter hadn’t yet. 

He still just couldn’t imagine anything justifying leaving your friend to die. 

It didn’t matter, either way, Steve seemed to understand that Peter didn’t fully trust, or like, him yet, and mostly avoided him. Or maybe Peter avoided Steve. Probably a bit of both, if he was being honest. Every time they came across each other they just kept to simple greetings and moved on. 

But Peter got along with the rest of the Avengers. Specifically, he had taken to Clint, Sam, and Nat. There was a bit of chaotic energy between Clint and Sam that Peter liked. Plus, Clint just really found Peter creepy, and Sam found him annoying, so it was the perfect storm for pranks. And Nat was just super cool and a little scary, and honestly? It was impossible to dislike her. 

(MJ also always talked about how much she liked Black Widow, but that had nothing to do with Peter’s own opinions. Nope, not at all.) 

But Peter had a newfound love for pranking Clint, which just so happened to catch a couple of the others in the crossfire. But Clint always seemed annoyed, and slightly grossed out, with Peter, so really. He was basically asking for it.

The first prank was to just web Clint’s hands to the fridge when the archer had tried to sneak in a snack before dinner. He had been upset by it, glaring at Peter all throughout dinner as he muttered on about how “gross” Peter’s webs were. 

Which, ya. Usually, Peter would take slight offence to that, because his webs were cool , and homemade, and he put a lot of work into them, but it was honestly just funny to see Clint so annoyed. 

The next prank happened to include Sam, even though it wasn’t meant to. It hadn’t been Peter’s finest work, he had to admit, and it did lead to him getting locked out of Mr. Stark’s lab for a week, but it was worth it. He had borrowed a few chemicals from Mr. Stark’s lab, nothing dangerous, just some things to mimic the original sticky explosion. Although Mr. Stark did lecture him after, about not misusing “dangerous chemicals”, but Peter knew what he was doing. 

He had made a bunch of little web bombs, no bigger than a pea, and attached them to Clint’s arrows. They were based on pressure, so once the arrow hit something or someone, it would explode and webs would be shot everywhere . Basically just a bigger mess of Peter’s Bites-accident, but it was effective. Especially considering how much Clint hated the webs. 

It had happened when Clint, Sam, and Peter were in the gym. Peter was focusing on his own training, going through some motions with a reinforced punching bag. Nat had been teaching Peter some self-defence, and some offensive moves, but she always told him it was important to practice each day by himself. At first, he had blown her off, but after she whipped him around the gym a couple of times… well. Peter didn’t need to be told twice. 

But Clint and Sam were sparring and were careful enough to avoid the corner that Peter kept himself to. He really didn’t expect Clint to pull his arrows out. They were usually never used in practice or in spars, mainly because Clint was always going on about how he “never missed” and didn’t want to “turn his teammates into skewers”, but Peter was pretty sure he was just nervous about actually missing. Honestly, Peter kind of wanted to see who would win; his Spidey-Sense, or Clint’s “I don’t miss”. All that aside, Peter had only attached the web bombs to his arrows with the knowledge that Clint used them only during his personal practice. 

But, well. The end result wasn’t something Peter was mad about. 

Sam had been shouting at Clint as they sparred, and apparently pushed enough buttons for Clint to finally get annoyed. Peter hadn’t really been listening, but he definitely heard little jabs of “ awe , is the baby missing his arrows?”, and “is that all you got bird-brain?” 

Which. Ya, that last one was weak. They were both bird-themed, and bird jokes were only funny if only one of the duo was bird-themed. 

Clint ended up pulling out his arrows with an annoyed sigh. Honestly, he seemed more frustrated than angry at Sam, and Peter was pretty sure he was just pulling out the arrows for show. He didn’t seem like he was really going to shoot them. 

At least, not until Sam gasped dramatically, “Oooh the scary arrows! Spare me! Spider-Man, please help me!” 

He was full of theatrics, and Peter just rolled his eyes. But that was it for Clint, apparently, as the man finally shot not one, not two, but three arrows at Sam. One arrow went above his head, and the other two pinned Sam’s pant legs and sent him flying back against a wall. The second the arrows hit the wall, though, they exploded in webs. 

Or, what kind of looked like webs. 

Peter had rushed with creating functioning bombs, and apparently, it had skewed the web formula a bit, so instead of it being an explosion of silly-string-like webs, it was more like a big… glob. A sticky glob. One that went all over Sam, sticking him to the wall even more. Clint just looked at it in confusion, before turning slowly to Peter. 

“Did you web-ify my arrows?” he asked, his voice strangely calm, and full with child-like curiosity.  

“I have no idea what you mean,” Peter replied innocently, only to have Sam shout out at him, 

“Fuck you, ma— mmf !” Peter shot a web over his mouth, shooting him a glare without any real heat behind it. 

“Language,” he huffed. 

And that got a laugh out of Clint. “Ok, ya super funny, love seeing Sam all webbed up and shut up. But get the rest off my arrows.” 

“I have no idea what you mean,” Peter repeated, putting on the best ‘I am innocent’ face as he could. 

Clint didn’t bother replying to Peter and just sent him a glare before rummaging through his pack full of arrows. Peter had half a mind to tell him to not bother because as soon as he tried to pull any of the sticky bombs off it would explode. But he decided against it, mainly because the whole point of the prank was to get Clint annoyed. 

Plus it was kind of common sense that any pressure or friction would cause the bomb to go off, so really, Clint kind of deserved it. 

But Peter had to admit, he didn’t think the man would literally dump out all of the arrows, causing every single one of the sticky bombs to be set off. Peter felt like he saw it in slow motion, and for the first time of his pranking adventures, he wondered if maybe he had made a mistake, as the giant globs of webs went all over the gym. 

Peter himself narrowly avoided getting hit by a glob, but a look at Clint and Sam told him he was the only lucky one. The other two men were completely covered in the sticky mess, and Peter was hit with the realization that with the formula being changed his dissolvant probably wouldn’t work on them. 

“I’m getting a big sense of deja-vu here,” Peter couldn’t help himself. 

It definitely wasn’t the best prank he’d ever done, considering the fact that it had been inspired by his own accident, and somehow still ended up in an accident, but it was a little funny to see Clint’s face twist in disgust as he poked at the sticky glob that covered him. Sam remained muffled as he shouted through the webs, but Peter figured he was disgusted and annoyed as well. 

“At least you’re not stuck to the floor or wall-like Sam,”

“You, Peter Parker, better watch your back,” was the only response he got from Clint. 

“ Aaand with that, I’m gonna leav—”

“Nuh-uh, come unstick us, bug-boy,” 

“Ya, uh, no can do. Literally. Won’t work. Sorry! Have fun! Get F.R.I to call Mr. Stark for help if you need it! I’m sure if you continue to poke at it it’ll help though,” and with that, Peter literally ran out of the room. 

Clint had, in fact, called Mr. Stark for help just mere minutes later. It had taken under half an hour to update Peter’s web dissolvant, and just another five minutes after that to get Sam off the wall, and Clint free from the sticky mess. Mr. Stark had then banned Peter from the lab for two weeks, but Peter managed to knock it down to one. 

His puppy eyes weren’t for nothing, after all. 

. . 

Following pranks were minimal at best and were really just meant to annoy the shit out of Clint. Honestly, the angrier Clint got at Peter the more Peter wanted to annoy him. Plus, he wasn’t going to stop until Clint stopped calling him bug-boy. He wouldn’t take the teasing sitting down. Duh . 

Most of the pranks were pretty simple though, such as when Peter messed with the wires of the T.V. so that Clint wouldn’t be able to turn it on, or when he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to only allow Clint to watch kiddie t.v. like the Wiggles. 

(That one had, surprisingly, not bugged Clint that much. Peter ended up asking Nat why, during one of their training sessions, and that was when Peter learned that the archer had kids.) 

Peter was pretty sure the prank that had escalated everything was when he had gotten Clint, Sam, and Bucky all involved. He hadn’t meant to, but it happened, and well. It had still been funny, so Peter was counting it as a win. 

Peter knew that Clint always went to the fridge to grab food after training. He also knew that Clint found Spider-Man “gross” and “creepy”. And again, usually, Peter would be offended by that, because Spider-Man was cool and awesome and he helped people out, but it offered such a good opportunity to freak the archer out that he couldn’t even be that angry. 

Peter put his plan in motion once he heard Clint head to the gym. It was pretty simple if he was being honest, but he was hoping to get at least a shout, preferably a scream, from Clint. He ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y. to shut off all the lights in the kitchen, and to not let anyone turn them on. Then, once he was sure his web-shooters were secured on his wrists, Peter flung himself up on top of the fridge. 

He’d get on the ceiling when he heard Clint leave the gym, but he wasn’t going to spend an hour or two sitting upside down. Despite popular belief, hanging upside down for long periods of time still did make Peter a little sick, just like any other human being. He was just able to do it for a little longer than the average person. But it was much more comfortable up on top of the fridge.

That was where he spent his next two hours. If Peter was being honest, though, it was more comfortable than he expected. It was dark, and quiet, and surprisingly the best place to do his History homework. Maybe he’d have to start making a habit of this. 

Then again, Mr. Stark would probably kill him if he started spending long periods of time on top of kitchen appliances. 

Once he heard Clint’s voice waft through the halls, though, Peter quickly tucked away his History homework and hopped up onto the ceiling. He crouched upside down and shot out a web right in between his feet. And then he just waited. 

“—eally thought you’d avoid that man,” he heard Clint’s voice draw closer. 

“Says the one who says he ‘never misses’” and that was Sam’s. Poor guy was gonna be caught in the crossfire again… and yet, Peter didn’t really care. His reactions were just as funny. 

“Shut up,” and that? That was Bucky. 

That made Peter freeze just a little. He hadn’t really interacted with Bucky much, mainly because he avoided Steve, and Bucky was with Steve most of the time. He didn’t really have any hard feelings against the guy, especially because Mr. Stark seemed to… well. Not forgiven him, but seemed to have reached a stand-still with him? Things were still awkward, both with Bucky and with Steve, but Mr. Stark tried to pretend they weren’t. 

He had asked Nat about it once, during one of their training sessions, but she just said not to worry about it. That it was just how Mr. Stark and Steve were, and that they were just worried about “political stuff”. Whatever that meant. 

But… well. Peter supposed there was no better way to get to know someone than by trying to freak them and their friend out. So, he continued on with his plan. 

“Weird, the light switch isn’t working,” Bucky mumbled, and looked straight up at the ceiling. 

For a second, Peter thought he had been seen, and that Bucky was going to ruin the whole thing. But instead, the man just hid a smirk and shrugged. 

Seemed like he had a partner in crime, then. Peter could work with that. 

“You sure it doesn’t work? Or do you just not know how to use modern technology, old man.” Sam countered, and Peter watched as he tried to flick the lights on. 

“F.R.I., turn on the lights please,” Clint spoke up but wasn’t deterred at all. He just continued towards the fridge. 

“I am sorry, Mr. Barton, there is currently an outage in the kitchen,” F.R.I.D.A.Y recited exactly what Peter told her to say. 

It was a dumb excuse, but he knew Clint didn’t know much about tech or didn’t care, so he wouldn’t figure that it was weird for only one room of the Compound to be in a power outage. Or, maybe he would find it weird, but he definitely wouldn’t care. 

And, just as Peter thought, Clint just shrugged and grunted. Sam gave a sigh of disappointment, but Bucky just continued to smile and shot Peter another glance. 

Yup. Definitely a partner in crime.

“Just grab the food from the fridge, we’ll eat in the common room,” Bucky nudged Clint.

And once the three men were right under the fridge, directly under Peter, Peter allowed himself to slowly drop down while holding onto his web. 

 “‘Sup” he gave a little peace sign once he leveled with Clint. 

And ya, Sam’s reaction of “Fuck! Don’t fucking do that!” was funny, but nothing could beat Clint’s literal scream. 

Definitely a win. 

“Fucking creepy bug-boy, why you gotta be sticking to things, and hanging upside down like that,” Clint continued to rant. 

“I swear I just lost a year off my life,” Sam placed a hand over his heart. 

“You scream like a little girl,” Bucky remarked, and Peter barked out a laugh. 

Clint just sent out a glare, and used two fingers to point at his eyes, and then out at Peter. 

“Better watch your back, bug-boy.”

“Ya, ya, sure. Whatever you say, bird-brain,” Peter scoffed as he flipped down. 

(And ya, that’s how you used the animal-based nicknames. The one saying it has to not be bird-themed.) 

. . 

“You know, Clint’s been telling me about your little prank escapade,” Mr. Stark remarked just a week later, during their lab time at the Tower. 

“Mhhm?” was the non-committal reply Peter gave. He was busy trying to study the Iron Man suit commands that allowed Mr. Stark to call the suit from miles away. 

“You know he’s going to try to fight back, right?” Mr. Stark continued, and Peter could tell even without looking that the man had a signature eyebrow raised. 

“He can try. My Spidey-sense warns me about things like pranks though,”

“You know he’s a spy, right?” 

“You know I got bit by a radioactive spider and have weird powers now, right?” Peter countered, finally looking up from the commands. 

That got Mr. Stark to raise both of his eyebrows. “Ok, whatever you say Underoos.” 

They worked for the next while in silence, for the most part. Peter broke it a couple of times to ask Mr. Stark why he had coded something a certain way, or to clarify some things, but that was it. It was one of Peter’s favourite parts of their lab time though. 

Sure, the two of them had great banters, and he loved chatting with Mr. Stark, but there was something so special about being able to work in silence with someone. It wasn’t something a lot of people got, and Peter felt lucky to have someone he was comfortable enough with that the silence wasn’t awkward. 

It wasn’t until they were nearing the end of the night that Mr. Stark cleared his throat, and Peter immediately recognized the stiff stature of the man as being his “we need to talk but I don’t know how to bring it up” posture. 

“What’s up?” Peter offered the man a life-line. 

“Just wanted to see how your patrols are going… Have you felt off at all? Or, I dunno, is everything ok during them?” he sounded nervous, and Peter was immediately put on edge. 

“Is this about the Ross thing? You said you had it handled?” Peter squeaked, his face flushing at how his voice cracked. 

“I do!” Mr. Stark cut in quickly, a bit too quickly. He cleared his throat and calmed down before continuing.

“I do,” he repeated, “And Nat is on it too. She’s making sure Ross is being kept far away. I just… I worry you know? Gotta make sure the Spider-baby stays safe.” 

Peter narrowed his eyes, not believing Mr. Stark for one second. The man was incredibly good at remaining calm and collected at all times, especially in the public. But when it came to acting in front of people he cared about? In front of his friends? Well, Mr. Stark sucked at that. And Peter could tell just from the look on Mr. Stark’s face right now that everything was not handled. Not at all. 

He’d have to start being more careful about where he changed into the suit. Double-check to make sure no one was watching him. 

“Ok,” Peter grinned, playing along. If Mr. Stark said everything was ok, then Peter was going to trust him, for now. Sure, he didn’t believe the man, but he trusted him and Nat to make sure nothing happened to him. 

“Ok,” Mr. Stark repeated, deflating a bit, “Now let's go get you a bedtime snack so I don’t send you home hungry.” 

“I’m almost sixteen, Mr. Stark, not six. I don’t need a bedtime snack,” Peter rolled his eyes. 

“You sure about that? Your baby face says otherwise.” 

. .

Peter wasn’t back at the compound until the next Thursday, which had apparently become the night he and Nat trained. Fridays were still reserved for Mr. Stark and lab time, and Spider-Man was always busy over the weekends, so Thursdays just seemed to work the best. They would be the easiest to keep up once Peter was back in school. 

He was slowly getting better at both defence and offence, enough that he was actually able to pin Nat down. So ya, that was pretty cool. Peter had been a little skeptical of the training at first, mainly because he had been Spider-Man for over half a year now, and he did a pretty good job at fighting bad guys, even if it did end up in the occasional stabbing. But Nat and Mr. Stark said he relied too much on his powers and his webs, so Nat was teaching all hand-to-hand, powerless, fighting. 

And that was cool. Because Nat was both scary and absolutely awesome, and Peter was totally fine getting beat up by her. 

Plus he knew she’d never actually hurt him. But today… today something was up. There wasn’t any immediate danger, but Peter’s Spidey sense was in a constant, dull, hum. He tried not to let it get to him, but it was hard to ignore his body when it was telling him something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.  

“You’re distracted,” Nat pointed out as he blocked one of her punches. 

“Not distracted enough for you to land a hit,” Peter countered. 

And he definitely spoke too soon for that. With his Spidey sense in constant alert right now he didn’t even register that Nat had swung out her leg, effectively knocking Peter over. Luckily, he was aware enough to yes, trip, but catch himself and do a small flip to avoid landing on his butt. 

“You were saying?” Nat raised an eyebrow, and Peter just huffed. 

They continued like that for just about an hour, with Nat constantly catching Peter off guard, and landing hits on him that he had learned to block weeks ago. The longer it went on, the more frustrated Peter got. He could feel the waves of anxiety and frustration rolling off him, but it was until he threw a particularly hard punch at Nat that he realized just how tense he was. 

Luckily the punch didn’t land on her, seeing as he was way too tense to have good aim right now, especially when fighting against a literal super spy, but still. It wasn’t good. 

“Shit, sorry Nat,” Peter sighed. 

“Don’t worry about it, we all have off days,” she shrugged, “But how about we call it a break for today?” 

Peter nodded, but couldn’t help but feel bad. They were cutting their session down by over an hour, and he hated wasting her time like that. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong , but no matter where he looked, and no matter how hard he strained his hearing, he couldn’t find anything off. 

He ended up shrugging it off, giving up on trying to find the source of danger. Maybe his senses were just off. It wouldn’t be the first time that they went off for no reason. 

He followed Nat into the common area, throwing himself onto the couch with a huff. His senses were steadily getting louder… like he was walking into a trap or something, and it made all the hairs on his arm stand up. Something was happening, he knew it. Something bad was going to happen. 

He quickly looked around the room, twisting his body every which way to see if there was anything or anyone, but nothing appeared. 

“Nat, something is… something is wro—” he cut himself off when his Spidey sense screamed at him. 

Without even realizing it, Peter jumped up onto his feet, barely registering Nat’s look of surprise as he did so, and got into a fighting stance. 

Peter felt it not even a full second later. 

It felt as though it was happening in slow motion, and God Peter wished it would just speed up. 

Clint and Sam were on either side of him, both with small bowls raised above Peter’s head, pouring out the substance onto him. 

The substance being spiders. 

So. Many. Spiders. 

“Fudge, fudge on a stick, fuck! Shit ,” Peter let out a string of curses as he felt all the legs on him. 

He jumped around, using his hands to brush the creepy buggers off of him as Clint and Sam laughed at his pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve, Bucky, and Mr. Stark rushed in, likely because of Peter’s shouts. 

“Get them off , fuck, shit, get off, get off,” Peter ignored them all, much more focused on getting the evil, eight-legged demons off of him. 

No way in hell was he getting bit by another spider. Finally giving up on the jumping and shaking, Peter hopped up onto the ceiling, which really was becoming a common occurrence for him, and prayed to God that the spiders would succumb to gravity. Sure enough, he did feel, and see, a couple fall to the ground. 

“Kid they’re just spiders,” Mr. Stark approached him, but Peter could hear the laugh in his voice. 

“Ya well, none of you got bit by a radioactive spider,” Peter bit back, continuing to swipe at his arms and legs. 

“I can’t believe Spider-Man is afraid of spiders,” Clint laughed, grabbing either side of his stomach. 

“I can’t believe your go-to for everything is the ceiling,” Sam sighed. 

“They’re creepy! ” Peter defended himself. Because they were! He had had enough spiders in his lifetime. No sir, no more for Peter, please and thank you. 

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Clint countered, and all Peter could bring himself to do was to send him a weak glare. 

“And the ceiling has gravity working on my side!” Peter continued, “Plus no one can reach me to pour more spiders on me.”

After another few minutes of shaking himself, and swiping his arms all over himself, Peter finally calmed down and jumped down. He swore he could still feel the spiders on him, but he couldn’t see him, and his Spidey sense had finally calmed down again. At least mostly, but he figured it was still acting up because the spiders were still around . 

“Was that payback?” he asked, shooting both Clint and Sam a look. 

“You bet your creepy bug butt it was,” Clint nodded, only for Sam to agree. 

“Don’t web me up like that again,” Sam threatened, but there was no real heat behind it. Not when he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

“How’d you even know I was scared of Spiders,” Peter was absolutely not pouting. 

Clint and Sam both just laughed, but Peter saw the way Clint’s eyes flitted to somewhere behind Peter. 

“ Mr. Stark! ” Peter admonished, “I told you that in secrecy!” 

The man in question raised his hands up in surrender, “Hey! You were wreaking havoc and Clint asked me for some help.” 

“Traitor,” Peter huffed, before turning to Nat, “And you! You definitely saw them come up to me! Why didn’t you say anything!” 

Nat just shrugged, “I don’t participate in pranks, not like you savages.” 

There was a beat of silence, and then he heard steps approaching. With his Spidey sense still at alert, Peter sat up a bit straighter and looked towards the hallway where the steps were coming from. Instead of another incoming attack of spiders, though, Steve and Bucky stood there, a bit awkwardly, with a small pile of clothes. 

“I, uh, thought you’d want to change clothes. Might make you feel better,” Steve offered, “We went through your room to grab them, I uh, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Bucky just stood there silently, but he had a smile on his face that told Peter it had been his idea. Or, he had at least encouraged Steve to go through with it. Peter sent both men a grateful smile and grabbed the clothes from Steve. 

“Thanks,” he said, “You two are officially the only ones I trust.”

Steve seemed to beam at that, and Peter looked back to Mr. Stark if just to say that he was only kidding, that he still didn’t trust Steve and that he would always trust Mr. Stark the most, but he stopped himself when he saw the man smiling. 

He supposed if Mr. Stark trusted, and forgave, Steve then Peter could too. Plus, he seemed to have found a good friend in Bucky, even if they hadn’t spoken much so far, and he supposed if he was going to be friends with Bucky he’d need to get along with Steve. 

“I hope you know this isn’t over, Clint,” Peter threatened light-heartedly before leaving to get changed. 

.. 

“You know Clint is just playing along with you, right,” Mr. Stark said later that night while they watched Star Wars, “Sam too. They’re both just big kids at heart.” 

“Ya, I figured. Figured they just wanted me to feel welcome, or accepted, or whatever,” Peter hummed as he adjusted the blanket over himself, “But they’re fun. Bucky too. He doesn’t talk much, but he definitely likes to take part in the chaos. He helped out with one of my pranks.” 

“Steve said he hasn’t seen Bucky open up much to anyone so far, but that he seems to like you,” 

Peter paused at that. He supposed it would be hard for Bucky to come into the team after having fought against them, specifically Mr. Stark, while brainwashed. And it must be tough for Steve to have to watch his best friend suffer through that. 

He hadn’t really thought about that before. 

And shoot. He really was forgiving Steve, wasn’t he? Not completely. No. Steve still hurt and betrayed Mr. Stark. And Peter still noticed how Mr. Stark and Steve argue sometimes, and how after those arguments Mr. Stark would always be more tense, more on edge. 

But, he supposed Steve wasn’t all bad. He was making efforts, and that was all Peter could ask for. 

“I like him, he’s nice,” was all Peter said, “Steve too. Nicer than I thought.” 

“Don’t go getting too attached now, Spiderling, you’re still my intern. Not theirs,”

Peter laughed at that, “Nah, I thought I’d actually switch to being Pepper’s intern.” 

“Ugh, just stab me in the back why don’t you?” 

But they both knew Peter would never do that. He enjoyed working with Mr. Stark too much, and he didn’t think he’d ever leave the internship, not unless he was fired. And it was moments like this, the moments of light banter, and moments where they were able to chat calmly about the day, that Peter felt a warmness surround them. It was something he hadn’t had since Ben. Sure, May always chatted with him, and watched movies with him, and he loved that. He really did. He was pretty sure he’d never love anyone, or anything, as much as he loved his Aunt May. She was always his number one. 

But Mr. Stark gave him another father… or uncle figure to talk to. He was somehow a bit calmer, and yet a bit more eccentric than Aunt May, and it eased Peter. Plus, Peter didn’t have to worry about protecting Mr. Stark. Sure, he was protective of him, just as he was of Aunt May, but he knew that worst comes to worst Mr. Stark could take care of himself. And worst truly come to worst, he knew Mr. Stark would always protect Peter. 

It was a comforting thought. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark?” 

The man hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing more. 

“Thank you,” and that got Mr. Stark’s attention. 

He raised an eyebrow and looked down at Peter, “Unless you’re thanking me for just being in my presence, which is valid, I have no idea what it's for.”

“Nah, just cause.”

Chapter Text

The next couple of weeks passed by without much problem. The number of pranks at the compound died down but never went away completely. But still, it was mostly just teasing at this point. Peter continued his training with Nat, and slowly but surely he was able to stay up for longer and longer. Peter also got closer to Bucky. It was a bit of a weird friendship if Peter was being honest. Bucky was as loud and rambunctious as Clint and Sam, and not as geeky as Mr. Stark, and not as… whatever Nat was, but Peter enjoyed the quietness of the man. He introduced Bucky to the Star Wars movies, and that sort of became a thing they did. Every time Peter was over he’d show the man a new movie or T.V. show. Anything that Peter said was “important to society” that Bucky had missed out on. Right now they were watching Game of Thrones. 

Things with Steve were… well. They were better, in a way. Peter wasn’t angry at him anymore, didn’t hate him anymore… but he was wary of him. Just last week he had heard Steve and Mr. Stark arguing, and at first, Peter was just going to brush it off as their usual shtick. Nat did say that this was just how they were. But then Peter heard his name, and well… he just couldn’t ignore that. 

“Listen, I know Peter is strong, and he’s a good kid, but you can’t be pulling a child into this!” And ya, Peter had always sort of guessed that Steve had a problem with him, but he hoped he had been wrong, especially because Bucky didn’t. 

“He was doing this before me Steve, I didn’t pull him into this. I just gave him the suit and tech he needed to stay safe .” And even without seeing him, Peter could tell that Mr. Stark was exasperated. 

“He got stabbed yesterday, Tony. A fifteen-year-old getting stabbed shouldn’t be normal!” 

“And I took care of it! Like I always do. I don’t like it any more than you, but I trust that the kid knows what he’s doing. And when he doesn't? I’m there for him. That’s why he has a room here and at the Tower, that’s why Nat is training him, and that’s why I make sure he checks in.” 

There was a beat of silence, one that was so long Peter almost decided to walk in and break the argument up. It didn’t matter if Steve wanted him to be Spider-Man or not. Honestly it didn’t even matter if Mr. Stark didn’t want Peter to be Spider-Man. He’d continue to do it with or without help from the Avengers. It was something that made Peter whole, Spider-Man was a part of him. He couldn’t just abandon him. 

Plus Spidey helped people, and Peter liked that. It was a way for him to right a wrong, and the city needed him. Still needs him. 

Peter wouldn’t stop until he was dead. 

“But he’s not safe, is he?” Steve finally said, and Peter was sure he was going to rant about how Peter kept getting stabbed. 

In his defence, his training with Nat meant it was happening less. The last time he got stabbed was only because he was protecting a civilian. 

“I told you, I’m working on it.” Mr. Stark bit back. 

And that? Ya, now Peter didn’t know what to think. Mr. Stark wasn’t actively working on anything right now, not that Peter was aware of at least. 

“Ross wouldn’t even be after him right now if he wasn’t seen with the Avengers,” Steve pointed out, and that sent a chill down Peter’s spine. 

He hadn’t forgotten about Ross being interested in Spider-Man, but it wasn’t mentioned as often anymore, and so he just thought that Nat and Mr. Stark dealt with it. That it was gone. Ross’s power in the government was quickly diminishing after the failure of the Accords so he just figured that… well. That the interest in Spidey would just die. 

“You don’t know that,” Mr. Stark scoffed, “Right now being with the Avengers is protecting him. No one’s gonna try shit when they know it’ll piss Iron Man off.” 

“You’re too cocky, Tony,” Steve sighed, “And it’s—”

“No. Conversation is done now. I’m not gonna sit here and let you lecture me on how to protect my kid. This is over.” 

And it had ended just like that. Peter had to quickly run back towards the lab so that Mr. Stark wouldn’t realize he had been eavesdropping, and once he was there he just froze. Ross was still after him. And it was enough for Steve, for Captain America to be worried about it. Even Mr. Stark sounded worried about it all. 

But maybe Steve was just using Ross to be able to prove a point. To prove that Peter shouldn’t be out as Spidey. 

Mr. Stark said he was dealing with it, and nothing bad had happened yet. He trusted Mr. Stark. It would be fine. 

Then there was the whole “my kid” thing… and ya. That was… that was something. Maybe it was in the spur of the moment, maybe Mr. Stark didn’t mean it. Or maybe he did. But the thought still warmed Peter’s heart. 

He wouldn’t bring it up though. Despite getting closer to Mr. Stark, the man was still emotionally… distant. Not as much as before, but there was still some distance. And Peter was just too awkward to bring it up. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries or do anything that would make their current mentee-mentor-friendship awkward. 

So when Mr. Stark entered the lab Peter plastered a large smile on his face and purposefully did not mention anything about the “my kid” thing, or about Ross.

Those were problems for another day. 

. . . 

Peter had been hanging out with Ned on a Wednesday when the text came. Normally he would have ignored any text or call while he and Ned were building lego together but the tell-tale sound of Mr. Stark’s text-tone rang out and made Peter pause. He sent a quick glance up at Ned, a silent question if it was ok for him to use his phone in their designated lego time, but Ned just ushered him to answer. 

Mr. Snark: What are you doing Tuesday 

Mr. Snark: Don’t answer that, 'cause you’re busy now.

Parkour: ??? what 

Mr. Snark: I’m picking you up at noon, we’re gonna go watch that Wars on the Stars movie marathon 

There was a pause as Peter typed his response, only to delete it once Mr. Stark sent another message. 

Mr. Snark: If you want 

Parkour : its Star Wars mr. stark, you know that.

Parkour: but ya! I’d love to! 

And that was the end of that. Peter shoved his phone back into his pocket and quickly told Ned what was going on. He wasn’t sure why Mr. Stark suddenly decided to take Peter out to the movies, but whatever the reason, Peter was just happy he was getting to watch the marathon. It was only the original trilogy, but it would still be exciting and long. He and Ned had tried to get tickets a few weeks ago, but they had been way out of Peter’s budget. So they decided they would just marathon all the movies over a period of a couple of days. 

“Do you think it's for your birthday? It’s the day before,” Ned asked, passing Peter a piece so he could continue constructing his side of the Millenium Falcon. 

“What? No,” Peter laughed, “I doubt he even knows it’s my birthday on Monday. He probably just heard me on the phone with you talking about the movies.” 

“I dunno man, he seems like he cares enough that he’d know your birthday,” 

And that sent Peter’s mind back to what he heard the other night, when Mr. Stark had called him his kid. But it didn’t make sense. None at all. Peter never mentioned his birthday, and sure that didn’t mean Mr. Stark didn’t know it, but for him to know, he’d either have to ask Aunt May or look it up. And there was no way he cared enough to look it up, and if he had asked May she would have immediately spilled the beans. 

“Honestly, I’m sure it's just a coincidence,” Peter shrugged. 

“Whatever you say,” Ned shrugged in return, “Anyways, hurry up on your side. I want this done before dinner.”

“Aye Aye, Captain” 

. . . 

Mr. Stark didn’t mention anything about the movie, or about Peter’s birthday when he went to the lab on Friday. So, Peter didn’t mention it either, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn’t want to think about the growing closeness between him and Mr. Stark, but with what he heard the man say, and then with what Ned had said… it was hard not to. But it was hard for Peter to admit that he was gaining another… mentor, or father-figure, or whatever, in his life. He’d already lost his real father and another father-figure. Two gone was too many, and he didn’t feel like he deserved a third. 

And yet. 

He enjoyed the time he spent with Mr. Stark, and the man certainly did teach him new things when it came to engineering and computer science. Things Peter would have learned eventually, but not for another few years. It felt nice to have someone to talk to who could keep up with his level of nerdiness, but could still teach him and be a mentor. 

But then again, the man still seemed vaguely… distant. It was hard to really see if Mr. Stark also thought of Peter as… a friend, or whatever, or if this was just the way he was.  

In all honesty, it was just a bit too much to think about, and Peter didn’t know if his overwhelming guilt complex could take it. 

“What’s got your mind all in a tangle, Pete?” Mr. Stark’s voice suddenly broke Peter out of his thoughts. 

He blinked rapidly for a few seconds, before answering, “Just thinking about school.” 

Mr. Stark sent him a look, one that was half confused and half worried. “School doesn’t start for almost a month, kid. I knew you were a nerd… but really?” 

Peter just shrugged, “Junior year is important.”

“If you say so,” he said as he turned back to his work, “Pass me that wrench, would you?” 

Peter did as he was told, and found himself dragging his seat over to Mr. Stark’s desk as well. The man was working on suit repairs for the Iron Man suit, and Peter would never stop being fascinated by it. This version used nano-tech, and even though he had asked Mr. Stark a million questions about it, he still didn’t fully understand it. 

But watching helped. 

Mr. Stark just glanced up at him with a smirk and continued working in silence. Every now and then he would point out something he was doing, something he thought Peter could learn from he supposed, and Peter would nod along, storing the knowledge into his brain. He doubted he would remember it all without writing it down, but he was much more focused on watching for now. Notes could come later. 

It was hours later when they finally wrapped up. Peter had been tempted to stay the night, if just to avoid the long car ride or swing back home, but he had promised May he would make her breakfast in the morning before he long shift. 

“I’ll pick you up around noon on Tuesday, ok?” Mr. Stark said as they left the lab. 

And that caught Peter’s attention. He shot his head up to look at his mentor, surprise no doubt evident on his face. 

“You remember I said we’d be going to watch those nerd films you like right?” Mr. Stark asked, his voice tilted and teasing, “Did you hit your head out on patrol? Got a concussion that needs checking?” 

“No, no,” Peter said quickly, “I just— I dunno, I just. I guess? I dunno. Ya, noon. Tuesday. That’s good.” 

Mr. Stark just raised his eyebrows in amusement before letting out a laugh and ruffling Peter’s hair. “Maybe you worked a bit too hard today and fried your brain, kid. Go on and get home to sleep.” 

Peter nodded and smiled brightly up at his mentor. “See you Tuesday, Mr. Stark!” 

“Ya, ya. Now get outta my Tower, kid.” 

. . . 

It somehow took a million years, and only a split second for Tuesday to arrive. He and May had spent his birthday the day before as they usually did; by attempting to bake a cake, only to burn it and decide to get Thai for dinner. Then there was the added gift of going to a local cafe to pick up a slice of homemade cake there. Red velvet, of course. 

(No, he didn’t choose red velvet cake just because he was Spider-Man, and Spider-Man was red. Nope. Not at all.) 

They had spent the rest of the day just relaxing, watching a movie, and going for a walk around town. Peter never liked making a big deal out of his birthday, so it was the perfect day. 

Mr. Stark never texted him a “happy birthday” or anything though, and that just solidified the fact that them going to the movies tomorrow was just a happy coincidence. He didn’t mind though, he was getting to see the marathon for free, and Peter really liked spending time with Mr. Stark! 

Remembering a birthday didn’t mean anything, anyways. 

Tuesday came, and Peter put on his favourite dumb Star Wars t-shirt (one that said ‘May the Force Be With You’ with force written as an equation). It was important to stay themed for these sorts of things, of course. Mr. Stark had sent him a text, reminding him to be ready for noon, and Peter ensured he was. He assumed that Happy was going to be picking him up like he always did, and Happy never liked it when Peter was late. 

Which was fair enough. He was a busy man, after all (or at least, so he said). 

But when Peter left his apartment, giving Aunt May a quick kiss goodbye, and went to wait in front of the apartment, it wasn’t Happy’s signature black car waiting for him. Or, well. It was the car, but Happy wasn’t there. Instead, Mr. Stark was leaning against the hood of the car, his sunglasses down on his nose and he swiped through his phone.

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” Peter beamed, “I thought Happy was going to pick me up?”

“Well that wouldn’t be a very efficient way for us to get to the theatre together, would it?” Mr. Stark said as he put his phone away, “And despite popular opinion, I can actually drive myself.” 

“I’m not sure Mr. Stark, I’ve seen you fly the suit and you look pretty reckless,” Peter teased, only getting an eye-roll in response. 

“Get in the care, you scoundrel.”  

Peter just laughed and clambered into the passenger seat. He usually sat in the back when Happy was driving, but that was mostly to give the man the freedom to block Peter out if he wanted to. He really didn’t like sitting in the back, it made him feel like he was being chauffeured around. 

Which. He kinda was. But still. 

“So the movie starts at one-thirty, so I figured we’d grab some lunch first?” Mr. Stark said when he got into the car. 

“Ya, sure! Can we get—”

“Hamburgers? Yep.” 

Peter just nodded and smiled. 

Mr. Stark ended up taking them to an up-and-coming (in his words) burger joint towards the centre of the city. They were expensive, in Peter’s opinion, but he knew the price was something the millionaire considered “cheap”. But it was good food, of course. Honestly, you couldn’t go wrong with burgers and fries. 

It was just a takeout place though, so once they got the burgers the pair ended up sitting on a bench by the street, and Mr. Stark ensured that his sunglasses stayed on so he wouldn’t be recognized. 

Peter didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was more recognizable with them on than off. 

Once they both finished eating (or rather, when Mr. Stark finished eating his burger, and Peter finished eating his burger, fries, and Mr. Stark’s fries), they got back into the car and drove to the movie theatre. 

It was one of those upscale movie theatres with reclining seats and fancy popcorn, which was one of the reasons the tickets cost an arm and a leg. Peter had never been inside before, seeing as he always opted for the discounted theatre near his apartment that only cost $5 for a ticket, so it was quite a sight to behold. It was easily the biggest theatre he’d ever seen, and his excitement only heightened when he saw people dressed up in different Star Wars regalia. 

“Mr. Stark this is so…. Friggin cool!” Peter had to hold back from pushing the man to walk faster. 

“Ya, ya. Go get our seats, and I’ll pick up the snacks,” Mr. Stark gave him a light shove towards the theatre, and Peter ran off. 

Another perk of the fancy theatre was the reserved seating, so Peter didn’t have to fight for any seats. They had gotten seats smack in the middle of the theatre. 

Mr. Stark returned just a while later, hands full with popcorn and two pop drinks. The marathon started soon after, and Peter spent the entire time elbowing Mr. Stark, whispering little facts he had learned throughout his life, and laughing. 

Even though the entire marathon took over six hours, it felt like it went by so fast. When they left the theatre Mr. Stark seemed slightly exhausted, but he still had a smile on his face as Peter raved. That in itself just gave Peter enough confidence to continue ranting throughout their car ride. 

“And… and, even though I already knew it, it always shocks me when they reveal that they’re twins! It’s such a twist!” Peter ranted as Mr. Stark drove. 

“Mhmm,” the man hummed, signaling he was listening. 

“It was so cool to watch all three in the theatre, Mr. Stark. I mean I’ve seen them so many times, but nothing beats watching a movie in a theatre with a bunch of other people! It totally changes the experience!” 

Mr. Stark nodded again. 

“Oh, before I forget,” Mr. Stark said suddenly as the car swerved to the side and parked, “Here. Get out, I wanna show you something.” 

Peter gave his mentor a look showing his confusion. He peeked out the window but saw nothing other than a grocery store, and a park right behind it. 

“This feels vaguely like a movie scene where the dumb teenager gets killed,” Peter noted, earning him a laugh from Mr. Stark. 

“I promise I’m not gonna kill ya. Pepper wouldn’t like that kind of PR,” Mr. Stark said, “There’s just something I wanna show you. See that bench in the park? Just go wait there.” 

Peter shrugged and got out of the car, and made his way to the bench. He pulled out his phone as he waited, shooting Ned quick texts as he ranted about the marathon. Even though it wasn’t for his birthday, and even though Mr. Stark didn’t seem to know about it, it still made his day. His week even! He had never done something that extravagant for his birthday, and sure, he didn’t like making a big deal out of the day, but it was still fun to do something entirely new. 

He shot his head up when he heard steps approaching, and tilted his head when he saw Mr. Stark carrying a grocery bag. 

“Is 7:30 the prime time for grocery shopping?” Peter asked, “I never knew.” 

“Shush,” Mr. Stark waved his hand and pulled out a tub of ice cream as he sat down. “I wanted to show you this.” 

And ya. Peter’s jaw dropped. 

“They made Spider-Man ice cream ? I’m an ice cream now? Oh my God that’s so cool,” Peter exclaimed as he grabbed the tub of Spider-Man’s Berry Blast , “I mean the flavour could be better, but hey! They stuck to the colours and that's pretty cool. Oh my God wait until I tell Ned.”

Mr. Stark laughed, “If I knew it was this simple to make you happy I would’ve made sure they did it much sooner. But there’s something else too.” 

Peter placed the tub of ice cream down on the bench and watched as Mr. Stark pulled something out of his pocket. 

“A watch?” he asked. 

Mr. Stark scoffed. “A watch made by yours truly,” he said, “Seriously you get excited over a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream but not over a very expensive watch?” 

Peter gaped at that. “I’m sorry Mr. Stark! I didn’t kn—” 

“I’m kidding kid,” Mr. Stark laughed as he put the watch on Peter’s wrist, “It’s a pretty standard watch, but it’s got a GPS tracker and there's a button on the side that when you press, it’ll alert F.R.I that you’re in trouble.” 

“Whoa…” Peter turned his wrist as he looked at the watch, “The mechanisms in this thing must be insane.” 

“Figured it would be nice to keep you safe when you’re out of the suit.” 

And that made Peter freeze. Was he still worried about the whole Ross thing? Did Ross know his identity now? Then again… with the watch on Peter would be able to tell Mr. Stark he was in trouble, and Mr. Stark would come and help. So it helped ease Peter’s anxiety. Just a bit. 

“Anyways,” Mr. Stark shrugged, “Happy birthday, kid.” 

Peter’s head shot up, “What? You knew?” 

Mr. Stark shot him a look with a raised eyebrow. One that distinctly said, “ do you think I’m an idiot? ” 

“Of course I knew? Why else do you think I took you out for the day and got you ice cream and a watch? Admittedly not the most extravagant gift I could think of, but Aunt Hottie said my original gift was too much. And Pepper has already scolded me on how uncomfortable big gifts made people.” 

“What was the—” Peter started, but stopped himself, “Actually never mind. I don’t wanna know.” 

“Why’d you think I didn’t know it was your birthday?” 

“Well… I dunno. You just never mentioned it or anything, so I figured it was just a coincidence or something. I didn’t really think you’d want to spend my birthday with me. And it’s not like it's super important, anyways.” 

That seemed to make Mr. Stark drag a hand over his face, “Shit Pete, I’m sorry. I guess I just forgot to fill you in.” 

There was a pause in which Peter continued to stare up at his mentor with wide eyes, and then Mr. Stark continued. “Of course I want to spend your birthday with you, kid. You’re turning sixteen! That’s a big deal! And every birthday after this is important too.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Mr. Stark ruffled his hair, “Seriously though. Don’t. I don’t want the others knowing that I’ve turned soft.” 

Peter laughed at that. But his laugh was quickly cut off when the hairs on his arms and neck suddenly stuck up. He felt a chill run down his spine, and it led him to quickly looking around the park to see what was happening. Something was wrong. It was just like when he was at the Compound and Clint played that prank on him… but somehow worse. 

“Mr. Stark, something is wro—” 

Before the words would even leave his mouth a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed Peter, as another man appeared from behind Mr. Stark, and stabbed the man in the neck with a needle. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter was only away from grabbing the man, as Mr. Stark sank to the ground when his Spidey Sense screamed again. He turned around, ready to fight whoever it is off so he can get himself and Mr. Stark to safety, but he met the same fate as Mr. Stark. 

The last thing Peter remembered was being dragged through the park. 

. . . 

Peter woke up to Spidey Sense screaming once again but didn’t open his eyes. They felt too heavy. The first thing he registered is that it was cold. Too cold considering it's August in New York. 

The next thing was that his hands were in handcuffs. Luckily they were in front of him, which gave him a little more mobility, but that didn’t help much. Peter tried to tug at them, only to be met with resistance. So, he tugged harder. 

They still didn’t break. 

And that? Ya, that was not god. That meant that whoever grabbed them knew that Peter was strong, and likely knew about Spidey. 

The thought sent a chill down Peter’s spine, and he opened his eyes. 

He was laying on his side on the dirty cement floor in a dirt basement. There was nothing in the room, just him, a support beam, and Mr. Stark. 

Fuck.

Mr. Stark.

Peter wiggled his way up so he could get closer to his mentor, who was still out cold and sprawled out on the floor. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter hated the way his voice broke, “Mr. Stark, wake up. Please, Mr. Stark?”

He shoved the man as gently as he could with his hands bound together. He didn’t stir. So Peter shoved a little bit harder and continued to call out the man’s name, but it was to no avail. Sighing, Peter struggled to stand up and had the vague idea of trying to figure out if he could break down a door or something, but there was no way for him to get out of these cuffs, and even if he did break down a door he wouldn’t be able to carry Mr. Stark while his hands were bound. So, instead, Peter made his way over to a dirty, mucky wall, and sat down against it. 

He’d just have to wait for Mr. Stark to wake up. 

While he waited, Peter’s eyes were drawn down to his wrist, where the watch Mr. Stark had just bought him lay. He quickly pressed the side button, and the screen lit up, but otherwise, nothing happened. Hopefully, it worked. He hoped that F.R.I.D.A.Y would get the message and let Pepper know, and then she’d look for Mr. Stark and she would notice he was missing. Then, hopefully, she would tell the Avengers. They’d come and get them. 

With that done, Peter had nothing left to do but wait. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. It only took maybe half an hour, or an hour, until the man began to stir, and Peter immediately stood up again and raced over. 

“Kid?” the man said blearily as he opened his eyes. 

“Hey Mr. Stark,” the relief was evident in Peter’s voice as he sank to the ground beside his mentor. 

Mr. Stark didn’t say anything for a few minutes, as he struggled into a sitting position, with his hands bound like Peter’s, and he took the moment of silence to look around and see where they were. Peter could tell from the tenseness in his shoulders that Mr. Stark was worried, but he also tried to maintain a calm expression. Peter wasn’t sure if that was for him, or for Mr. Stark himself. 

“Shit,” he finally said. 

“Ya,” Peter agreed solemnly. 

“Have they come in, or said anything yet?” 

Peter shook his head, “No, I just woke up a bit before you, and no one has shown up.” 

Sure, a bit was an understatement, but there was no reason to tell Mr. Stark that he’d been awake for roughly an hour. He knew it would just make him feel bad for leaving Peter to deal with it alone, and honestly? They didn’t have time to deal with Mr. Stark’s guilt complex right now. 

“We should se—” 

Whatever Mr. Stark was going to say was cut off by the door swinging open. Peter was convinced he was going to come face to face with Ross, or maybe even one of Mr. Stark’s enemies, but he was wrong. 

“It’s good to see you again, Parker,” Norman Osborn smirked as he sauntered towards the pair. 

“Can’t say the same, I’m afraid, Mr. Osborn,” Peter replied through clenched teeth. 

Honestly, he should have seen it coming. Between Dr. Connors a few months ago, and the fact that Peter had gotten bitten by an Oscorp spider and then quite just a couple of months later… ya. It made sense that Norman Osborn, the CEO, wanted Spider-Man. 

But why Mr. Stark?

As if he was reading his mind, Norman Osborn spoke. 

“I was only planning on grabbing you, Spider-Man,” and that confirmed Peter’s theory, “But it seemed like Mr. Stark here was going to be too big of a liability. I never could get you alone.” 

Peter shot Mr. Stark a look, and the man just shrugged. They had both been so concerned about Ross that Peter hadn’t even considered someone else would be after Spider-Man. Or Peter Parker, for that matter. But it made sense. Norman Osborn was doing genetic testing, and there were rumours around the labs, when Peter worked there, that it was so the man could cure himself. So of course if he figured out it worked on someone, he’d try to find that person. 

And well. As long as you knew that Spider-Man got his powers from a spider, and knew of where to find radioactive spiders, it wasn’t that hard to connect the dots between Peter and Spider-Man. 

But shit. 

He couldn’t believe he got Mr. Stark dragged into this. 

And as if Mr. Stark could read his mind, he said “It’s not your fault kid.” 

Peter remained silent and pressed his lips together. It was all fine and well for Mr. Stark to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but it was . Nothing could change that. If he had just been smarter and cared more about OsCorp, he could have figured out that Norman Osborn wanted to learn more about merging human DNA with animal DNA. Or arachnid DNA, at least. But he thought it was all just an experiment that just accidentally got tested on a human. And he thought Dr. Connors was just an unlucky coincidence. He should have connected the dots. 

Of course, Norman Osborn was experimenting with humans and DNA. 

And of course, he would figure out it was Peter who got bit by the spider. There were cameras literally everywhere in OsCorp! 

So ya. It was his fault Mr. Stark got dragged into this. It was his fault it was even happening in the first place! 

“But I won’t do anything to dear Tony Stark here, Pete, so long as you comply,” Norman had an eerie smile on his face, “Do what I say, and Tony remains unscathed.” 

“Fine,” Peter didn’t even have to think about that. It was his fault they were here in the first place, so of course, he was going to protect Mr. Stark. 

“Kid, don’t be dumb,” Mr. Stark sounded tired, and Peter didn’t know if that was because he had just woken up from being drugged, or if it was because he was annoyed with Peter.

Probably both. 

“And you,” his tone turned cold and sharp as he looked at Norman Osborn, “If you so much as touch or look at the kid in a wrong way, I will end you. I’ll make sure OsCorp goes down in the drain, and you’ll be lucky to get away with your life.” 

Norman clearly heard Mr. Stark. Peter could tell by the way his eyebrows inched up, even if it was only a little. But the man chose to ignore Peter’s mentor. Peter held all of the attention. And despite the fact that Peter knew Norman Osborn, a normal, non-mutated, non-superhero, human couldn’t hurt him, he found himself backing up as the man walked towards him. His presence alone felt evil. 

“Come along now, Parker. We have work to do,” Norman said as he pulled Peter up by the arm. 

“Get your fucki—” Mr. Stark began to yell, and out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw him struggle to get onto his feet. But he was cut off by the cocking of a gun, and Peter didn’t need his Spidey sense to tell him where it was pointed. He could feel the cold barrel against his temple. 

“I’d stay calm, if I were you, Stark. Otherwise, you’ll be cleaning your kid’s brains off the floor,” Norman said as he continued to pull Peter out of the room slowly. 

“I’ll be fine, Mr. Stark,” was the last thing Peter said before he was pulled out of the room completely. 

What happened next was all a blur. 

He remembered a similar room to the one he had been in with Mr. Stark, except this one held a metal bed with restraints. He remembered being put down on this bed, and being restrained, and he remembered struggling, only to find that these restraints were also impossible for him to break out of. He remembered Norman, and another man, looking down at him like he was an animal. Like he was a test subject. And he remembered needles entering his arms.

So many needles. 

But after that? Everything was a blur. And he wasn’t sure what really happened, or what was a hallucination. He was pretty sure he had seen Uncle Ben at one point. He remembered crying out for the man, and he remembered being covered in the man’s blood. 

“Ben!” he cried, “Ben please help me! Please don’t leave me, Ben! I need you!” 

But then he had disappeared. Or had Peter disappeared? He wasn’t sure, his mind was full of cotton balls, and he was in so much pain. Needles kept entering his arms, and blood was being drawn. He was pretty sure they drugged him again, and that was making him hallucinate. He also knew they hurt him physically. 

He remembered Norman saying something about testing his healing ability, and then being cut up. He remembered being shot in the stomach. 

Or was it Uncle Ben who was shot in the stomach? 

Someone was.

But Peter was covered in blood, so it must have been him. Right? Maybe. He didn’t know anymore, and he was so tired. 

Was Norman still there? 

Peter tried looking around the room, but it just made his head spin more. He was pretty sure he could still hear Norman and the other man speaking… but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. 

Fuck his stomach hurt. 

And his head hurt. 

Everything hurt. 

Where was he, again? 

Peter couldn’t think of it, all of a sudden. He had been calling out for Ben right? No, wait. That couldn’t be right. Ben was dead. Then who?

“I don’t think he’s going to be much more use to us today, Norman,” a voice rang out, pulling Peter from his thoughts.

“I think he can take more Thaddeus,” that was Norman Osborn. Peter didn’t think he’d ever forget his voice.   

Something was said after that, but Peter stopped paying attention. He wanted to sleep. 

He wanted a hug. 

He wanted to stop hurting. 

So he closed his eyes and let himself drift off. He couldn’t get hurt if he was asleep.

. . .

When he woke up next he was back in the other room, away from the needles, and the gunshots, and Uncle Ben. 

He was vaguely aware of how his limbs were tangled with each other, and vaguely aware of his own groan as he opened his eyes. Everything still hurt, and he was still exhausted, but he felt slightly less drugged. 

“Fuck kid,” he heard a voice. 

But he couldn’t place it, his mind was still filled with cotton balls. All he could think of was the pain he was in. 

“You dropped like a rag doll when they brought you back,” the man sounded scared. Peter was pretty sure he could hear his heart race. Or was that his own heart? Who knew “I thought… I thought I had lost you there for a couple of minutes.” 

Peter didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. He wasn’t lost, he was right here. Wasn’t he? 

Or was this another hallucination? Was he still drugged? But he felt a little more aware, he was pretty sure he wasn’t strapped on the table anymore. 

“You there, Underoos?”

Oh. 

Oh. Peter knew that. 

It was as if the use of the nickname alone was enough to bring him out of his drugged haze. He still couldn’t make sense of a lot of things, his brain still felt fuzzy and dizzy, but he knew where he was now. 

“Mi’ss’r S’ark?” Peter mumbled as he attempted to roll over from his stomach onto his back. Or his side at least. 

It turned out he didn’t need to though. Mr. Stark grabbed Peter by the right shoulder, and Peter could feel the chain of Mr. Stark’s handcuffs rattle against his skin, and he helped Peter turn. 

“Come on Pete, you gotta help me here. Come sit up,” Mr. Stark’s voice was quiet. Quiet and scared. 

Why was he so scared, again? 

“Come on, sit up. I gotta check and see where all the blood is coming from,” Mr. Stark continued. 

Oh right. Blood.

His blood? Or Uncle Bens? 

No, Uncle Ben was dead. 

So it was his, right? 

“Mmm’kay,” Peter mumbled. 

He shuffled his way up, using Mr. Stark’s hand on his shoulder to brace himself. But once he was sitting on his butt he found that he couldn’t stay sitting. His head was heavy, and so was his entire upper body. Everything slumped forward and Peter was sure he was about to smack his head against the concrete ground. 

“Nuh-uh, no more injuries today Spider-Man. I know you’re accident-prone, but I think this is enough,” Mr. Stark said, and Peter felt his hand catch him from around the stomach. 

“You can lean on me, its ok,” Mr. Stark said. 

There was a lot of softness in Mr. Stark’s voice that Peter hadn’t heard before. 

It scared him. He didn’t know why Mr. Stark was treating him like glass. Was he going to be ok? 

But at the same time, the fear wasn’t enough to stop Peter from slumping sideways and leaning against Mr. Stark. He rested his head on his mentor’s shoulder and found his hand clasping around the man’s shirt. 

“H’rts” Peter mumbled as tears slipped out of his eyes, “M so tired.” 

“I know Pete,” Mr. Stark ran a comforting hand through his hair, and Peter found himself relaxing, “I know. But you gotta stay awake, ok? I don’t know what they did to you, so you gotta stay awake. Steve, and Nat, and Clint, and all the others will be here soon, ok? And once they’re here, you can sleep.” 

“‘M tired now ” Peter whined and twisted his body. Everything hurt, and he just needed to sleep it off. 

He would heal by the time he woke up. He always did. 

“I know Pete, but just stay awake a little longer. You pressed the button right?” 

Peter didn’t answer, he just curled up closer to Mr. Stark. 

“I’m sure you did. You’re a smart kid Pete, I know you are. Even if you didn’t, they’ll know that we’re missing. It won’t take long to find someone like Norman Osborn. He’s not as smart as he thinks he is. That's why I’ve never worried about him as competition, you know that Pete?” 

Peter hummed but didn’t answer. He let his eyes close as he felt himself drift off. 

“Nuh-uh, come on. Keep those eyes open for me,” Mr. Stark shook him, and Peter whined. “I know kid, but hey. Did I ever tell you about the time your Aunt chewed me out?” 

This time Mr. Stark didn’t wait for Peter to reply, he knew he wouldn’t. So he continued. 

“It was soon after that Vulture incident. I guess right after she found out about your identity. I had already been planning on giving you an actual internship. You’re too good for Oscorp, you know that? Your spirit is too good for them and you’re too smart for them. Way too smart for them.”

Peter let out a whisper of a laugh. It really came out more of a groan, than anything, but Mr. Stark recognized it as a laugh, and that fuelled him, it seemed. And that was ok, Peter liked hearing Mr. Stark talk. 

“You’re gonna be the best of us Pete, mark my words,” Mr. Stark continued, “Anyways, so Aunt Hottie calls me, and immediately starts yelling. And I’ve never been yelled at by anyone except maybe the odd teacher, my parents, and Pepper. She absolutely rips me apart, and I deserved it! So all I could do was nod, and tell her how right she was. Because you know what Pete?” 

There was a beat of silence, and Peter wasn’t sure if Mr. Stark was just collecting his thoughts, or if he was expecting Peter to answer. But Peter couldn’t. He was so tired, he could barely tell his body to move at this point. 

“You deserve the world, Pete. You’re a smart kid, sure, and a good hero, but you’re more than that. You’re kind, and somehow get even the scariest Avengers wrapped around your little finger, and I swear you’ve changed me for the better kid. So I just need you to keep your eyes open for a little longer. Let me take care of you.” 

Peter just groaned. He didn’t want to keep his eyes open anymore, he wanted to go to sleep. He wanted the pain to go away, and he wanted his mind to clear up. He knew if he could just get his mind clear he would be able to think of something. 

They wanted to escape, right?

He could think of a way. He just needed to sleep first. 

“How about you lie down, and just rest? Ok? I’m sure this isn’t very comfortable for you,” Mr. Stark said. And Peter felt the man begin to try to push him back onto the ground. Maybe he could finally lie down and sleep. 

But he was comfortable where he was. But he also wanted to lie down and sleep. And sleep seemed more important right now. 

And it seemed that wouldn’t be a problem, because as soon as Peter began to shift away from Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark came with him. The slight amount of resistance made Peter open his eyes questioningly. Was Mr. Stark holding him up? 

If Peter had been less drugged at that point he was sure he would have barked out a laugh. But it was ok because Mr. Stark did. 

Peter’s hands were completely stuck to Mr. Stark. One hand was stuck to the man’s shirt completely, and the other one was half stuck to his shirt and half stuck to his skin. He gave a light tug, but it was about as hard as he could considering his current state, but there was no give. The tug just brought Mr. Stark closer to him. 

“‘M s’rry, I dunno how to… uhhh, how to” Peter sighed as he tried to get Mr. Stark to understand. 

Luckily, the man was a genius. Or he had just been around Peter long enough to understand his mumblings. Or both. But Mr. Stark just laughed and reached to gently push Peter against him again. Peter happily complied, and rest his head on Mr. Stark’s shoulder once more. The comfort of a father-figure, of a guardian, was all Peter needed right now. He just needed to feel safe. 

“It’s ok kid, you just stick to me, and I’ll make sure you’re ok,” Mr. Stark said, and Peter tried to laugh at the pun, tried to show that he was...ok. But his laugh came out dead sounding. 

He could tell it bothered Mr. Stark because of the way the man’s body stiffened, but Mr. Stark didn’t change the tone of his voice, and he kept trying to joke around. 

“Not a great way to start off your 16th year, eh Pete?” Mr. Stark teased, and all Peter could do was shrug. 

Up until the whole… experimentation thing, it had actually been a pretty good two days. Even when he woke up in a mysterious basement, he wasn’t all too upset about it. Mr. Stark was with him, and as much as he hated that, it also provided him some comfort. Sure, being experimented on… what.... two days? Or has it been longer now? Shortly after his 16th birthday wasn’t ideal, but Peter had a good time with May on the day of, and he had a good day with Mr. Stark the day after. So it was ok. 

“Iss fine, because it was with you, M’ss’r S’rk,” Peter mumbled. 

There was a beat of silence, and for a second Peter wondered if his mumbled words didn’t make any sense. But he was pretty sure they did. His mind was slowly starting to clear up, and even though he couldn’t seem to control his stickiness right now, he could feel himself getting a little bit of strength back. So he was fairly certain that his sentence was coherent. 

“Seems like you’re getting your wits back, kid,” was all Mr. Stark said, but Peter could hear the shakiness in his voice. 

Had he said something wrong? Was he looking even worse? Why did Mr. Stark’s voice sound like that? It wasn’t necessarily sad, or upset… but there was something about it.

“I… I’m sor—” Peter began to apologize, even though he wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for when he got cut off by a blaring alarm. 

It was loud enough that his sensitive ears were ringing from the sound of it. It seemed like all of his powers were out of whack right now, including his hearing, and the loud alarm was just making his head pound. He winced, and grunted and tried to unstick his hands so he could cover his ears. When his hands didn’t give, he settled for trying to press his ear against Mr. Stark’s shoulder. 

“Crap,” Mr. Stark muttered, “Super-hearing…” 

Peter had never been happier that his mentor was a genius if he was honest. Almost immediately the man brought up his hands and pressed one against Peter’s free ear, effectively blocking out most of the sound. 

“I’m sure that’s them, Pete. We’ll get you home soon, and you can sleep.”

Chapter Text

Tony had never seen Peter look so… pale, and fragile. The boy was always a beaming ray of light, and so strong that Tony often forgot just how young Peter was. But now? Here in this basement? Peter looked more like a child than he ever had before. 

And the worst part was that Tony didn’t know what to do. 

In Afghanistan, it was his brain that was wanted, and he had been mostly free to roam around the room without prying eyes. And he had a friend. It wasn’t an ideal situation, not at all, but there were little things that allowed Tony to escape. 

But here, in Norman Osborn’s fucking underground lair, or whatever it was, he had no leverage. He wasn’t even the one they wanted, so he couldn’t offer himself to protect Peter. He just had to look after the poor kid. That was all he could do. 

That, and hope that the Avengers came to get them. Or hope that he could figure out how to break out of the handcuffs that trapped him. 

He had never felt so useless before. 

And so, here he sat, pressing one handcuffed hand against Peter’s ear to block out the sound of the blaring alarm. God, he never thought he’d say this again, but he hoped that it was Steve. They may not be on the best of terms (and fuck , if that wasn’t the understatement of the century), but he knew Steve would be able to get them out of here and would be able to protect the kid. Unlike Tony. 

He never should have recruited Peter, it was a mistake. One he couldn’t take back, and if he was being honest, one that he didn’t know if he really wanted to take back. Getting to know Peter, mentoring Peter, befriending Peter… it was one of the few bright and happy things Tony got in his life. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to give that up, even if it was for the better. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt Peter stiffen under his hold, and his hands tightened their grasp on his shirt. He knew that Peter heard something or someone coming, and all Tony could hope for was that it was help, and not the enemy. He knew there was nothing he could do if Norman came back for Peter right now. Then again, with Peter sticking to Tony, he wasn’t sure if Norman would actually be able to literally rip Peter off him. 

At least they had that going for them. 

When the door clicked open and Peter didn’t stiffen anymore, Tony felt his hope grow. Peter’s tingle… or spidey sense, whatever he called it, would know if it was their captor coming for him. They would alert him for sure, right? 

But Tony felt his heart drop to his stomach when he saw who was standing at the door. The man stood there with a smirk on his face and his hands stuffed in his suit pockets, and Tony felt the urge to throw a punch. He had kept Peter from him for so long, he had done his best so that he’d never find the kid. 

And yet, here they were. 

But really, Tony had never expected Ross to be working with Norman Osborn. 

“Tony,” the man greeted with a faux smile, “It’s good to see you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Tony gave a tight smile back, “But unfortunately I find your ugly face tiring. Have you ever heard of botox? Your wrinkles might thank you for it.” 

Ross simply rolled his eyes and walked towards Tony and the kid. Tony couldn’t keep himself from bringing Peter in a little closer, as if that would help the situation in any which way. Peter himself was suspiciously quiet, but Tony figured that had something to do with the continuing blaring alarm and the fact that he was still drugged. Because ya, somehow they had found drugs to take out Spider-Man. 

That was a whole other concern that Tony was going to be dealing with later. 

“I can finally understand why you kept him from me,” Ross shot a look at Peter, “But unfortunately no mutant can stay away from the law.” 

“The Accords aren’t law,” Tony bit back, “They still need to be amended.”

“No matter. Spider-Man here is important to the government, and to the Accords.” 

“He’s a kid.” 

“A powerful one.”

Tony stayed quiet for a moment, and if it weren’t for the alarm the room would have been quiet enough to hear a pin drop. He knew Ross wanted Spider-Man, wanted Peter, but it was never clear why. But clearly, it was important enough for the man to work with Osborn, of all people. 

But that didn’t matter right now. 

He shot a lookup to the ceiling. The alarm was going off, so clearly the others were here. Ross was just trying to take Peter away before they could get to him, and Tony wasn’t about to let that happen. 

“Ah that,” Ross said as if he was revealing a big secret, “I’m sorry to say that our systems are running a little haywire. This is what I get for working with lowlifes, I suppose. But no worries, it’ll be turned off soon enough.” 

Tony narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that, and Ross knew it. There was a chance that Ross wasn’t lying, that the alarm really was a mistake but… 

Well. 

Peter had pushed the button on his watch, right? And if he did, then F.R.I.D.A.Y would have been alerted that the kid was in trouble, and then she would try to alert Tony, and once she didn’t find him she would alert Pepper who would alert Steve. So surely by now Steve and the others were here, if not incredibly close. 

If they weren’t, then… 

No, Tony wasn’t going to think about that right now. 

“But, I must take Spider-Man here away. We have more things we need to test. His mutations are quite dangerous, you see. We wouldn’t want the wrong type of person to get their hands on him,” Ross shrugged and took another step closer. Tony pulled the kid closer, and when he didn’t feel Peter react in any way he realized the kid had dozed off.

That wasn’t good. He wasn’t sure if the kid had any head injuries, and it was never good to let anyone with head injuries fall asleep. Or anyone who was drugged, for that matter. 

He shook the kid subtly and tightened his grip, trying to wake Peter up without alerting Ross to his growing anxiety. 

“And here I was under the impression that Norman Osborn was the exact type of wrong person you’re referring to,” Tony said, trying to keep his tone as casual as possible. 

Ross scoffed, “I’m not in the mood for your attitude, Stark. We’re doing good work here. Work that would’ve been much easier to do had you and the others simply signed the Accords.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He had to keep Ross distracted and talking, he had to make sure that Ross didn’t try to take Peter from him. Not until the others showed up. 

Luckily, Ross took the silence as a reason to keep speaking. 

“His blood, Stark. I’m sure you’ve had a look at it?” 

“We don’t do human experimentations at Stark Industries, but ya. We know enough about his blood to treat him.”

Ross hummed and crossed his arms, finally coming to a stop directly in front of Tony. Tony could feel his heart pounding against his chest, and all he wished for was to punch the stupid asshole in the face. The thought that Ross was causing all this anxiety and fear… Tony hated it. Hated to think that it was so easy to make him scared. 

He hated that Ross wasn’t even trying to scare Tony. Tony wasn’t the end game here, Peter was. And yet just the simple threat of something happening to the kid was enough to make Tony feel like he was going to have a heart attack. 

“You should look into his blood more, Stark. The way he heals himself is quite interesting. Everything we did to him, cuts, bruises, any sort of injury, it healed in a matter of minutes. A little longer if it was a little deeper,” Ross explained, and Tony felt his fists clench around Peter. 

He was going to kill the bastard. 

“But luckily we were prepared for that. Osborn was the one who created Peter, after all, so he knew how to combat it. It was a gamble, of course, the injection could have killed the poor boy, but it didn’t. Just kept him at bay so we could continue our testing. Slow down his healing,”

“You fucking—”

“You understand, I’m sure, Stark. Sometimes you have to test how to stop something to know how to recreate that thing. His blood should be public access, Stark. It can heal people. And he didn’t create it, OsCorp did. It’s their domain, their creation. And they want to sell it, they want to help people and save their lives. Not be a menace on the streets, like Spider-Man” Ross continued, and the more he spoke the angrier Tony got. 

He kept treating Peter as if he was just a thing as if he was just the latest thing in the medical world. It made Tony sick to his stomach. He knew that mutants and mutates weren’t treated well in the world, and likely wouldn’t be for a while now. They were different and powerful, and that made people scared. But Tony also knew it was inhumane to treat them as anything less than human because that’s what they were. Human . 

It was one of the reasons he agreed to amend the Accords. It was too strict, too bigoted, towards mutants and mutates. He only agreed with the Accords because it could make the Avengers responsible for the things they did. For the people they killed. They needed to be held accountable. 

But regular people who were just trying to live their lives? Or who weren't working for the government or crossing borders? They had to left out of it. They were just people. 

Ross clearly didn’t agree with that line of thought. 

Ross leaned down and went to grab Peter, only for Tony to lean backward. He was hellbent on protecting the kid, even if he knew that the kid was still stuck onto him, so logically, no one would be able to take him. 

“That…” a rough voice came out from below him, “was a pretty stupid… evil villain speech.” 

Tony snorted. 

“Thought it was… c’mm’n sense to not say your whole plan,” the kid continued and shifted, but never once released his hands from Tony. 

Ross was clearly unamused and simply raised an eyebrow. “It’s for the good of humanity, Peter. I thought you’d understand that.” 

“Nah…” Peter mumbled, clearly still drugged out of his mind, “But y’know what I do underst’nd?” 

Tony furrowed his eyebrows. The kid was egging Ross on but was in no state to fight. And Tony definitely wasn’t either. So that meant… 

That meant he heard something. 

And not a second later the door to the basement came blasting off, and Tony felt relief take over his entire body. Steve and Bucky both came barging in, looking ready to fight tooth and nail. Even Peter seemed to relax a bit, as they both realized they were getting out of here. No one was turning Peter into the next BigPharma drug. 

“Captain, I really think you and your friend here should stand do—” Ross never got to finish his sentence. Cap’s fist smashed into the man’s face before he could do anything else. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” the soldier said, shaking his fist out as he stared down at the passed-out man on the ground. 

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad to see your stupid blonde face Cap, and your’s too, Manchurian Candidate.” 

“M’ss’r S’rk be nice. They’re here to help,” Peter mumbled, and Tony was pretty sure that if the other two weren’t literal super soldiers with super hearing they wouldn’t have heard the boy at all. Not with his face still pressed into Tony’s shoulder. 

Tony decidedly ignored him. A drugged up spider-baby didn’t know what he was saying right now. 

“This was fun and all, and very anti-climatic, but mind getting us out of these cuffs? I’d love to get out of here and grab a cheeseburger,” Tony made a show of his hands to the two soldiers. 

“Oh, uh, ya. Of course,” Bucky was the first one to make a move, “I found the keys in the office. They’re not the smartest bunch.” 

“No, nothing like Hydra, eh?” 

There was a beat of silence, and Tony knew he said the wrong thing. Fuck his non-existent filter. Just go on and insult the guy who was saving his kid. Fuck. 

Steve looked just about ready to go into lecture mode until Bucky let out a chuckle. 

“Nah, they would’ve kept the keys nice and hidden. Or destroyed them. Definitely not in an office where the notorious bug-boy could’ve found them.” 

“‘m and arachnid,” Peter finally lifted his head to give a weak glare, “And it’s Spider-Man.”

“Uh-huh, sure it is. I’m sure everyone who hears that squeaky voice thinks you're a man.”

The cuffs came off of Peter first, but he remained attached to Tony. They’d have to sort that out soon, he supposed. He wasn’t going to be able to get a move on with a sixteen-year-old spider kid literally attached to him. 

Bucky then took Tony’s cuffs off, allowing them to drop to the ground with a loud clang. Tony gently massaged his wrists before standing us, using one hand to help Peter stand as well. Steve and Bucky gave the pair a look, obviously staring at how Peter was literally attached to Tony’s side, but they didn’t say anything. 

Tony was grateful for that. 

“I’m sorry… just need to… not… just relax,” Peter mumbled, and gave his hands a light tug, “Just… let go…” 

And apparently, that was all he needed. Tony’s shirt gave a bit of a tug, but Peter’s hands were released. The kid looked relieved, if not a little embarrassed. So much so that Tony found himself ruffling the kid’s hair. 

“It’s no sweat kid. You were drugged and scared, and it didn’t bother me.” 

Peter just nodded but didn’t say anything else. His body seemed to sway a little as he stood, which was concerning. Tony really wished he had access to F.R.I right now so she could do a scan on the boy. Obviously, the drugs were still affecting him. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Steve finally asked. 

“Drugged. And beaten up. Ross and Norman Osborn were working together to get his blood,” Tony shot the man on the ground a glare, “Speaking of, we need to figure out what to do wi—” 

“Blood!” Peter exclaimed suddenly, enough so that all three of the men gave a little of a start. 

“What?” Tony questioned, narrowing his eyes at the kid. 

“Blood,” Peter said again as if it explained everything. 

All three men remained silent for a moment before Tony finally realized the kid wasn’t going to be giving any more information. 

“Sorry to break it to you kid, but none of us are mind readers. Mind filling us in?” 

“Blood… They took my blood,” Peter said, “It’s uh…” 

The kid scrunched his face up and scratched his head. It was something he did in the lab a lot when he was searching for a particularly difficult answer. Tony figured that now it was because he was still on whatever superhuman drugs Osborn gave him. Who knew what that did to the kid’s brain. 

“It’s radioactive. The spider was. And I’m pretty sure I am.” Peter explained, looking a bit panicked, “My blood probably isn’t… probably isn’t safe. For others. It made me really sick… first."

Steve’s face dropped in an “o” as he recognized what Peter was saying. Bucky and Tony both stayed quiet but nodded. They needed to find the blood samples and destroy them. They couldn’t let Osborn test it on innocent people. It could kill them. Or at least hurt them a lot. 

“Avengers,” Steve didn’t hesitate to speak into the comms, “Be on the lookout for a lab. If you see blood samples, destroy them. It’s important.”

Tony couldn’t hear any of the responses, he wasn’t connected to the coms, but based on the way Peter relaxed he figured they all answered in the affirmative. 

“All right. Let’s get out of here.” 

. . . 

Peter’s steps were shaky, at best, and he struggled to keep up with the three men, but he did his best. He just wanted out of here. And, they had to find the blood samples. Peter didn’t know what his blood could do to a normal person, and he really didn’t want to find out. Sure, he had thought about the fact that his DNA had healing abilities before, but all it took was one blood test to show that it was still toxic and radioactive. It wasn’t worth the risk. 

So they had to find it. But Peter could barely tell where they were going. He kept his eyes trained on Mr. Stark and followed closely behind. Occasionally he had to lean up against the wall to catch his balance, or even had to grab Mr. Stark to stay upright. 

But eventually, after what felt like ages, they found the lab. And by they, he meant Steve, Bucky, and Mr. Stark. Peter was absolutely no help. 

“There are only three vials,” Steve noted as he rummages through the lab. 

Peter took the opportunity to sit down. His brain was too foggy, and he was way too tired, to even stand anymore, let alone rummage through the lab looking for his own blood. 

“Their notes say they had five,” Mr. Stark said.

“Well, there are only three,” 

“Ya, you said that Captain Obvious,” even without looking Peter knew Mr. Stark was rolling their eyes, “I’m saying two are missing.” 

“Uh, guys?” Bucky finally spoke, “I think Norman took them. His notebook is here, says he wanted to test it on himself.” 

“Took it? Why?” 

“Ross was saying something about using Pete’s blood as a cure. Pete, was Norman sick?” 

“Hm?” Peter had heard his name but hadn’t processed the question. 

“Was Norman sick,” Mr. Stark’s voice was tight and urgent enough that Peter realized he had to answer. 

Peter was silent for a few moments as he racked his brain for the information he needed. “Ya, I think. Company rumor than he was dying, I think,” he finally said. 

“Fuck, ok. So we gotta find Norman,” Mr. Stark said, “For now just grab the vials, we’ll take them back to the lab. I need some of Pete’s blood to synthesize drugs for him, anyway.”

“Is that ok, Peter?” Bucky asked, and Peter was grateful. He hated being treated like a lab object.

He nodded. 

“Alright, let’s get goi—” Steve was cut off by a loud boom.

“What the fuck was tha—” Tony tried to ask, only to be cut off by another boom . 

There were two more, and each one rang in Peter’s ears and made him cringe. Luckily, he didn’t have to move, because Mr. Stark was grabbing his arm and forcing him out of the room. Peter barely had time to think, and could barely hear what the others were saying. Everything hurt. He felt like his senses were dialed up to fifty, instead of just eleven. 

“They’re blowing the entrance ways. Trying to destroy everything,” he heard Steve say. 

“Then we get out through the roof,” Mr. Stark said, still pulling Peter along. 

He was grateful for the guidance still. The hand on his arm assured him he wasn’t alone and made sure he was going to get out of here safely. He felt them going up stairways and banged into the walls a couple of times. Now that the boom-ing had stopped, and hadn’t happened for at least a couple of minutes, Peter’s brain was clearing. Just slightly, but enough for him to find control of his own legs. 

Steve opened a door at the top of the stairs and quickly ushered everyone out. Peter practically stumbled his way into the outdoors, grunting when he realized it was pouring rain. It took only seconds for him to be absolutely soaked to the bone, and he hated it. He was already tired, and now he was cold on top of that.

He was so focused on being annoyed at the rain that he didn’t even notice the man standing on the opposite side of the roof. 

“What the fuck is that,” he heard Mr. Stark ask. 

“I think… I think that’s Norman Osborn,” Steve answered.

“Ok, no giving your blood to anyone, kid. It does freaky shit,” Mr. Stark said, and Peter finally got it in his head to look up. 

And ya. It was Norman Osborn, but… it wasn’t. He was a lot greener, and a little pointier. Ya. His blood definitely wasn’t safe for humans. 

Instead of looking healed, Norman looked like he was actively dying. It wasn’t good. 

“You annoying Avengers,” the man growled, “Should learn to mind your own business.”

“Ya, honestly, I’m finding it hard to take you seriously when you look like a dying snake,” Mr. Stark huffed. 

“Tony,” Steve reprimanded, before turning his attention to Norman, “Mr. Osborn, I suggest you give us the vials. I’d rather not take it by force.”

“They’re mine !” And ow. His voice was scratchy and high pitched and it pierced Peter’s ears like a dog whistle. 

“Actually, they’re kind of mine,” Peter said. It was meant to come out as quip but instead came out as a weak-willed mumble. But still, he couldn’t just sit here and let the others fight Norman. It was his fault they were all here in the first place. 

“It is blood made by my science. The last vial is mine, ” Norman reiterated. 

Mr. Stark was about to say something else but was cut off by Norman throwing a smoke bomb at the group. 

“ Fuck ,” Mr. Stark grumbled, “Don’t let him get away.”

Bucky and Steve made affirmative noises, and spread out, attempting to escape the smoke that encompassed their vision. Peter, however, could somehow still tell where everyone was. He supposed his senses being dialed up to fifty aided his Spidey Sense, even though it hindered just about everything else. 

Without thinking about it, Peter flipped over to where he sensed Norman and threw a punch. It was weaker than his normal punches, but considering Norman’s weak state, it still did a number on the man. Peter could feel the crunch of his nose from underneath his fist. 

He immediately fumbled for the vial, already feeling unsteady on his feet. Adrenaline could only do so much, he supposed. Luckily, Norman was also fumbling, so all it took was a light kick to the man’s arm, and he dropped the vial. He gave Norman another punch and watched as the man fell over. It was what he deserved. 

Quickly, Peter looked down at the ground to look at the vial. It had smashed against the ground, and Peter stomped on the smashed glass for good measure. 

He couldn’t let Norman test his blood on anyone else. Not if it did this. 

“Peter!” he heard Mr. Stark called out. 

“I got it, Mr. Stark!” he spun around to meet the man as the smoke cleared. 

But even though he was sure he had felt Mr. Stark right behind him, he wasn’t there. Mr. Stark and the other two were still a good distance away. They didn’t have Peter’s Spidey Sense, so they had been looking for Norman while blind.

“Peter, watch out!” Mr. Stark called again. 

But it was too late. Norman was back up on his feet, and the look on his face was nothing short of pure rage. 

Fuck. Peter was definitely too weak and too drugged for a proper fight. Just the one punch and kick had already used all his energy. He already felt like he was about to collapse. 

“Pesky little spider,” Norman growled, “Learn your place.”

The shove came out of nowhere. Peter didn’t know if it was because he was still drugged, or if it was because he was still recovering from all the tests they did on him, but the shove was enough to knock him over. He stumbled a couple of feet, struggling to gain his balance. But finally, finally. He did. 

Or, he thought he did.

He thought all was fine until he realized it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. 

“Peter!” he heard Mr. Stark’s panicked shout. 

And he realized he was falling. 

He hadn’t caught his balance. Or, well. He had, but he caught it right on the very edge of the roof, and it wasn’t enough to keep him from falling. 

“‘M sticky!” he called back because it was true. He just needed to make contact with the wall. 

So he reached out, wincing as his hands and feet grazed against the brick wall. He was upside down now, and the blood was starting to rush to his head. He just needed to stick, and climb back up. Easy Peasy. 

But instead, his hands and feet continued to graze. He could feel the friction between him and the wall. The rain certainly wasn’t helping, but he could usually stick to things even when they were wet. He’d stuck to plenty of buildings in the middle of a downfall worse than this. So why…? 

He didn’t have time to think about it anymore. He was falling fast, and he wasn’t sticking, and he didn’t have his web-shooters on. There was nothing he could do to catch himself. 

So he screamed. 

He screamed as loudly and as wildly as he could in order to alert Mr. Stark, or really anyone , that he was falling. That he wasn’t going to make it. 

He tried to shift his body midair, if just so that when he collided with the ground he wouldn’t smash his head open. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive that. Especially not with these drugs in his system. 

And just like that, the slow-motion scene was over. Everything came rushing back in real-time and Peter saw the ground approaching faster and faster. Vaguely, somewhere above him, he could hear Mr. Stark’s yelling, and somewhere in the distance, he could hear the thrusters from Mr. Rhodey’s suit. But none of that could help him. 

He collided with the ground with a loud thud . Luckily, his shifting had worked, and it wasn’t his head that made the first impact, it was his shoulder. He didn’t exactly feel the pain at first. It was all sort of… numb. Maybe it was the drugs. Probably. All he could feel was the rain pounding down on him, but even that was vaguely numb. 

In all honesty, he didn’t feel the pain until Mr. Stark came into his line of sight, and knelt down beside him. His mentor gently placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder. 

“Hey, hey. Pete. Pete. You ok?” The man’s voice was gentle, and somehow it was what made all the pain in Peter’s shoulder and body blossom to the forefront. Suddenly everything began to hurt like hell. It felt like his shoulder was about to fall off, and every breath he took made it feel like his chest was caving in on itself. That, and he could hear a little bit of popping and cracking with every breath. 

“Guess the song was right,” Peter coughed. 

“What song? What?” Mr. Stark questioned, somehow looking more concerned than he had before, “Did you hit your head? Do you have a concussion? What’re you talking about?” 

“Down came the rain and… washed the spider out…” Peter couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. 

Mr. Stark looked much less impressed. Horrified, even. “Don’t make jokes like that, kid,” he finally sighed, “I swear you’re gonna give me a heart attack.” 

Peter wasn’t able to give out an intelligent answer. The pain was growing faster and faster, and it was getting harder to ignore. Even the pitter-pattering of the rain against him somehow was beginning to feel like tiny daggers. And fuck he could feel a sensory overload coming on. A headache too, maybe. 

Maybe he did hit his head. 

“Mr. Stark…” Peter didn’t mean for it to come out as a whine, but it did, “It hurts… a lot…”

“I know kid, I know. We’re gonna get you on the jet and get you checked out, don’t you worry.”

And with that, the man carefully wrapped his arms around Peter and picked him up. Peter normally would protest against this. He was strong, and he hated being treated like he was injured or fragile. Plus, he knew he weighed a lot more than he looked, and Mr. Stark had also been held captive for… however long they were in there. But right now his mind was too foggy and he was in too much pain to even care. Plus, being held was nice. 

But… 

“Norman…?” Peter asked, hoping to convey his worries. 

And once again, Peter was glad his mentor was a genius and was able to understand exactly what he meant. 

“Cap took him down right after you fell. He and Ross will be facing a hefty charge of kidnapping, violent battery, and human experimentation. I doubt either of them will see the light of day anytime soon,” there was a pause, and Peter felt himself begin to nod off again. If he slept then surely the pain would fade away. He’d wake up and Mr. Stark and Dr. Cho will have taken care of everything, right? But right as Peter closed his eyes Mr. Stark jostled him and began speaking. Peter narrowed his eyes, knowing it was on purpose, but tried to stay awake nonetheless.

“Well. They’ll be facing trial if Bucky doesn’t get to them first,” the man said, “I don’t know how you did it kid, but I’ve never seen Bucky so connected to someone. No one other than Steve, of course. But I swear he’d kill a man for you.” 

“He’s nice,” Peter mumbled, “Good prank buddy.” 

“Mhmm,” Tony hummed, “We’re almost at the jet, Pete. Just keep your eyes open a little longer, ok? Then I swear I’ll let you sleep for as long as you want.”

Peter just hummed in response but kept his eyes open. He could do it. It was important to Mr. Stark, and he didn’t want to disappoint the man. He could do it. 

He focused on things other than the pain. He could hear Nat, Clint, and Rhodey all in the background, no one seemed particularly nervous so he figured things were calmed down. He could hear Steve and Bucky too… they seemed a bit more… agitated. He supposed they were still dealing with Norman and whatever he had turned into. 

And the rain. 

He could hear the rain against the ground, and against him. And it smelt nice too. He always liked the rain, it made him feel at home. When he was a kid, he and Ben and May would always sit down with cups of hot cocoa and a movie every time it rained. He supposed it was in order to re-write his associations with rain because it was raining the day he found out his parents died. And it worked. He associated rain with warmth and love now. 

Now though… the rain seemed to have worked against him. He slipped because of the rain, right? Or the drugs maybe. But he stuck to Mr. Stark even after being drugged, so surely it was the rain. Or maybe it was a combo of the two. 

Either way, he was hurting now because of the rain. 

But Mr. Stark was also holding him close and talking to him softly, just like Ben would when he was hurt as a kid.

So it wasn’t all bad. 

“Tony,” that was Dr. Cho’s voice. 

“Cho,” Mr. Stark sounded relieved, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“We figured I might be needed sooner rather than later. I can’t do much in the jet, but I can stabilize him,” she said, “Put him on this table here.” 

Peter felt himself being laid down, and he cringed at the coldness of the table. Somehow the cold made everything hurt more, and less, all at the same time. It was weird and frustrating, and Peter just wanted to sleep. 

A light shone in his eyes and he groaned, immediately covering them with his hand. 

“Why,” he asked. 

“I just need to check your pupils, Peter. Let me look just once more,” the woman spoke gently, but Peter shook his head. 

“Hurts.” 

“He said uh…,” Tony hesitated, “That his senses were dialed to eleven. Like, usually. They might be worse now.”

Cho just hummed and seemed to think for a moment. But Peter refused to remove his hand from his face, just in case she tried for a sneak attack. 

“Ok, we’ll check on that later,” she finally decided, “But Peter I need you to tell me, is it hard to think straight? Or to listen to people? Or to stand or walk at all?” 

“Ya,” he said, and it came out as a whine again. In his defence, he was in pain and drugged and all he wanted to do was sleep. 

“Sounds like you probably have a mild or moderate concussion. I’m sure it’ll fade soon enough on its own, but we’ll keep an eye on it back at the compound. Now, what else hurts?” 

“Shoulder… breathing… my chest is like… popping?” Peter said. 

“He fell,” Mr. Stark interjected, “Off the top of that building over there. He tried to stick, and he normally can. I’ve seen the kid stick to literally everything, but he slipped.”

“That’s… odd,” Cho said, and even though Peter knew she was trying to not alert him to her worry, he could hear it in her voice, “But let me check your shoulder and ribs for now.” 

Her hands were immediately on him, asking him where it hurt, and if it hurt more when she pressed or twisted things a certain way. The answer was yes, to almost everything. The pain was beginning to get unbearable, and Peter really wished that pain meds would work on him. 

“Seems like a fractured shoulder and arm, and possible fractured ribs. But for sure at least one rib has popped out of place. It’s an easy enough fix, but I’d rather do it in the Med Bay,” Cho explained. “Now for the sticking, Peter, why do you think you slipped?” 

“Hmmm.. drugs, and rain? They uh… drugged me, or something. And everything is messy now,” he tried to explain. 

“Alright. I’ll let you up with an IV and try to flush the drugs out. Once we’re sure they’re out of your system we’ll get you hooked up on some of Cap’s pain meds. How does that sound?” 

Peter nodded and hummed. “Sleep, now?” 

He could hear Mr. Stark laugh in the background, and even Steve let out a little chuckle. When had Steve and the other got here? Why didn’t he hear them approach? Fuck, he was so out of it and he couldn’t tell if it was because he was downright exhausted, or if it was because of the drugs, or because of the pain. 

“Yes, Peter,” Cho said, “Go ahead and sleep now. We’ll wake you up when we’re in the Compound.” 

And that was all Peter needed to be told. Without a second thought he closed his eyes, and right before he fell asleep he swore he felt Mr. Stark running his hands through his hair. The action was comforting enough that Peter didn’t say anything. 

. . . 

The first thing Peter heard was muffled talking. Then, he heard the familiar beeps of hospital equipment. Something was sticking in his arm, and it itched, and there was something wrapped around his body. Was he still… was he still with Norman? Did they really not escape? Was it just another hallucination, like Ben? 

Peter sat up with a jump, and immediately pulled out whatever was in his arm. He looked around frantically and got ready to jump and run. Strangely, his mind felt a lot clearer than earlier, and he was able to form proper thoughts. And yet, he still wasn’t able to place where he was. 

“Mr. Stark?” he called out, his voice shaking and exposing just how panicked he was. 

There was no answer. 

“Mr. Stark?” he tried again, louder. 

When there was no answer the second time, Peter began to panic. Maybe it was all a hallucination, and he was still with Osborn and Ross. Maybe he was never going to escape, and they were going to continue to test things on him and—

“Peter, Pete. Hey, kid. I’m right here, I’m right here,” Mr. Stark came barging through the doors. 

Tears came to Peter’s eyes before he could stop them. He reached out for the man, ignoring the fact that his movements were slightly restricted from what he now knew was a brace that wrapped around his chest and shoulder, and gave Mr. Stark a tight hug. Later, Peter would probably be embarrassed about crying and hugging his mentor like this, but right now he needed to be comforted. The idea of getting stuck with Norman and Ross, and being used as some kind of… some kind of experiment and object… it made Peter shake with anxiety. He hated it. He was strong, he knew that. He was Spider-Man for God’s sake! And yet it was so easy for two regular men to grab him and subdue him. 

He hated it. 

“It’s ok Peter, it’s ok. You’re safe now. Cho said you needed rest and food, and then we’ll take off that pesky brace, ok?” Mr. Stark pet his head, “Listen, Bucky, Clint, and Sam are in the kitchen right now making pancakes. I can tell them to come down and feed you when they’re done, ya? You can get some food in you, and be surrounded by familiar faces.” 

Peter nodded, but kept his head hidden in Mr. Stark’s chest, “That sounds good.”  

He heard the man relay the orders to F.R.I.D.A.Y, and Peter was grateful that he didn’t move to get up. He needed the hug right now. 

“I’m so sorry kid, I should’ve protected you more,” the man said. 

“Not your fault, Mr. Stark. Norman is crazy, I should’ve known,” Peter mumbled, “Should’ve told you guys my old boss was a nutjob.” 

Mr. Stark let out a laugh loud enough that Peter could feel the vibrations in his chest. “I don’t think any of us expected you to be able to know that Norman Osborn was crazy, Pete.” 

There was a beat of silence, and for the first time in many months, it was tense enough to make Peter want to fill it. But luckily, he didn’t have to. 

“And I think we’re past the point of Mr. Stark, kid. Seriously, call me Tony,” 

“Uh, ya. Ok Mr.— uh, Tony.”

The hug lasted for another couple of seconds, and then the two let go of each other. Peter finally stopped. They chatted for a little bit, mostly about school and Acadec, but Mr— Tony also told Peter that he wanted the kid to have a look at one of his Iron Man suits. 

Which was beyond amazing. Peter always jumped at any chance he had to look at any of the Iron Man suits. 

They continued like that until Sam, Bucky, and Clint all walked in. 

“Hey, kid,” Bucky greeted, raising a plate of pancakes instead of waving hello, “You look a lot better.” 

“I feel a lot better too,” Peter nodded. 

“Crazy how sleeping for ten hours will do that to you.”

“ Ten hours ?” Peter raised his eyebrows, “What? Aunt May must be going crazy! I have to call her right—” 

“Whoa, slow your horses there bug-boy. Pepper’s been in contact with your aunt this whole time. She knows you’re here and safe,” Clint said as he sat down in one of the chairs beside the hospital bed, “You needed the rest to heal, anyways.”

“Oh,” Peter sighed, “That’s good.” 

He graciously reached out for the plate of pancakes and began scarfing them down. He had barely realized how hungry he was until he smelled the food in front of him. It was then that he realized he hadn’t eaten since well before being grabbed...which must have been what? Two days ago now. No wonder the drugs had affected him so badly. He was lucky that Bucky and Steve had come to save them. He probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer with the mixture of not eating and being drugged.

“Hey, Bucky?” 

“Ya kid?” 

“Where’s Steve?” 

“He uh,” Bucky faltered, “He figured he’d let you guys have your space.” 

And ya, that made sense. Peter never warmed up to the guy like he did to everyone else, and Steve was nice enough to recognize that and respect that. But still… he had saved Peter’s life, and Tony’s too. That was worth something. 

Maybe Steve wasn’t as bad as Peter thought. And one quick look at Tony and Peter realized the man had forgiven the blond long ago. 

Maybe he should too. 

“Can you uh, tell him I say thanks?” Peter asked, “And uh… maybe we can all watch a movie tonight?” 

Bucky smiled, “I’ll be sure to let him know. I’m sure he’d like those Star movies you like.” 

“God no,” Tony rolled his eyes, “We have to watch something else. I swear we watch Star Wars at least five times a week here.” 

“But Tony ! They’re so good!” 

“Ya, ya, no. We’re watching something else.” 

“I feel like the twelve-year-old who just smashed face-first into the ground should get the first pick,” Sam piped up. 

“ Sixteen , but ya! I’m the injured one! It’s my pick. And Steve should be introduced to modern genius.”

“Whatever you say, kid,” Tony rolled his eyes again, but Peter saw a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. It was the same look that Ben used to give him when Peter was excited about things, and the same one May still gave him. 

Peter could help himself, he leaned forward and gave Tony another hug. The man didn’t even hesitate to hug him back. “I love you, Tony,” he murmured, “Thanks for always being there.”

“I’ll always be there, kid, no matter what sort of sticky situation you get yourself into,” Tony answered, and tightened the hug, “I love you too.”

And ya, Peter was going to ignore the gagging sounds that Sam and Clint made in the background. They couldn’t ruin the first real and admitted father-son moment Peter had with Tony.

(For now, at least. He would get back at them later, and he was sure Bucky would help).