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"May! Have you seen my tie?"
"The one you wore to Homecoming?"
Peter grimaced, thinking of that disastrous night. "Yeah, that one. I don't think I have another one, do I?" He was on his knees, digging under his bed to try and find the suit shoes May had bought him for Homecoming. After that night, it hadn't ever occurred to him that he might need the shoes again. In fact, the whole outfit was somehow gone.
Well, not somehow. He had maybe, potentially, totally tried to get rid of all the reminders of that night. The shoes he'd shoved under somewhere. Either his bed or dresser. Or maybe the couch. Or maybe he'd thrown them out the window.
All perfectly plausible options, to be honest.
"No, I don't think you do. But I found the one from Homecoming."
May came into his room, holding up his tie. It was torn in a couple places form being so haphazardly thrown around the apartment, and it was a bit dusty.
Peter took the tie from his aunt and ran his hands along it. "Oh shit. God, May, I'm sorry, I didn't realize how careless I was with this. I don't think I can wear it to the party, though."
May laughed. "Don't worry about the tie, Peter. I know that night was a bit... stressful for you."
He laughed. "Just a little."
May looked contemplative for a second. Then she turned around and went into her room. She came back a few minutes later with a dusty old looking tie. It was a bit wrinkled but otherwise in perfect condition. When she held it up, her eyes were sad.
"This was Ben's old tie. You can wear it tonight. I think it'll suit you well."
Peter stared at it, hesitant to reach out for it, despite May holding it out for him. "I don't know, May. I don't want anything to happen to it. It's really special. I can just wear the suit without the tie."
May threw the tie to him, still using extreme care. "Don't be ridiculous, Peter Parker. No one wears a suit without a tie. Besides, you're going to be with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. You could at least look nice."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Mr. Stark has seen me in much worse. So has Ms. Potts. Covered in ash, webs, blood, bird poop. I doubt they care about my tie."
May raised her eyebrows. "Blood? Bird poop?"
He cringed. He hadn't meant to say that. "You know, I may have gotten... lightly stabbed."
"Lightly."
"Yep, lightly. It was only a few inches into my stomach," he answered quickly before realizing that probably wasn't the best thing to say.
May's eyes went wide. "What?"
Peter shrugged. "All part of the job. Don't worry, though, I went to Mr. Stark and got help. And I'm not dead. So. That's a win, right?"
She let out a loud sigh. "I guess. And the bird poop?"
Peter winced. "New York Pigeons are lethal. I swear they take everything personal."
May laughed, still a bit strained. She pointed to the tie. "All that to say put on the tie."
He pursed his lips, but took the tie from the ground where it landed.
"Thanks, May," he said after a second.
She nodded and left the room quickly.
Peter tied the tie around his collar (with help from a YouTube video) and put on his jacket. He stared at himself in the mirror for a little bit. The tie seemed all wrong on him. It was Ben's. It didn't belong to him, and it showed. Peter felt awkward and heavy in it, as if it somehow put weight onto himself.
But he didn't have time to dwell. Happy texted him with a short, impatient message.
Waiting outside. Hurry up.
Okay! Thank you, Happy.
Yep.
Peter hurried out of the bathroom and me this aunt in the living room. Her eyes glazed over with tears when she saw him.
"You look wonderful, Pete. The tie suits you well."
He smiled. "Thanks, May. I'll take good care of it. Promise."
She nodded.
He hugged her and then was flying down the steps to his apartment. The familiar black Audi stood at the curb and Happy leaned against it. He nodded at Peter as he came up, arms crossed.
"You look good, kid."
Peter blinked. He'd never gotten a compliment from Happy before. "Thanks," he replied, a bit late. "You look good, too, as always, sir."
Happy grunted and threw the door open, walking back over to the driver's side. Peter slid in the door and buckled his seatbelt.
"Lighten up, Happy. It's a Christmas party! It's gonna be fun."
Happy looked in the mirror back at him. Instead of sliding the divider up like Peter thought he would, Happy instead smiled. "Yeah, kid. It's gonna be great. Try not to die while we're having fun, okay?"
Peter glared. "Oh my god, it's not like I try to get in trouble all the time!"
Happy only raised his eyebrows.
Peter squirmed. "Fine," he lamented. "Maybe I get in more trouble than I have to. But I promise I won't ruin the party tonight. I won't pull any stunts."
Happy knit his eyebrows together in concern. "I don't mean it would ruin the party, kid. I mean I don't want you to get hurt."
He blinked. Happy had never shown he cared that much.
"Oh, uh, okay," Peter was too stunned to form a smart response.
"Only because your safety is my responsibility, and boss would kill me if anything happened to you," Happy added quickly, probably seeing that his previous statement had been too kind.
Peter grinned. "Sure, Happy. Sure."
He did slide the divider up this time, and the rest of the ride saw Peter bouncing anxiously in his seat, anticipating meeting some of the greatest names of all time. Hell, Mr. Stark had gotten Elon Musk, who he said he had met at a diner one time before racing a car, to attend.
But Peter was most excited to meet Dr. Bruce Banner. He had written several papers on the man and read all of his scientific journals as a young boy. He almost idolized the man more than Mr. Stark!
Actually, he definitely did.
It's not that he didn't respect Mr. Stark, it's just that all of the hero complex had evaporated after the third time DUM-E had sprayed him with the fire extinguisher.
When they pulled up to the tower, the party was in full swing. Lights were shining and the music was blaring.
Peter stepped out of the car slowly, suddenly nervous, in contrast to his previously and normally bubbly self. This was Tony Stark's party! How would he explain his presence here?
Before he could turn and run in the other direction towards home (or swing, he had brought his web-shooters), Happy pushed him to the doors.
They rode the elevator in silence. Peter fidgeted with the hem of his jacket. Until Happy slapped his hands away and scolded him for ruining the overcoat.
Peter rolled his eyes. They had bought this suit at a second hand store. It was already probably pretty ruined.
He stepped out of the elevator and immediately tensed up. His spidey sense screamed at him to run away. Something just screamed danger...
But it seemed completely fine. Mr. Stark was walking towards them with a huge smile on his face.
"It's my favorite person in the whole world! Oh, and hey Happy." He grinned widely.
Peter laughed nervously. Happy grumbled, walking away to join the party he had evidently had to leave to retrieve Peter.
"Hey, Pete! Come on, I want to introduce you to some people."
"Oh um, actually-" before Peter could finish his thought, he was being dragged along the floor by Mr. Stark and found himself face to face with Captain Steve Rogers.
The man turned around, startled. "Oh, hey, Tony- who's this?"
Mr. Stark grinned proudly. "This is Peter Parker. The intern that I won't 'shut up about', to quote Nat."
Mr. Rogers's face shifted to understanding. "Oh, hey, Peter. I've heard so many good things about you!"
"Yeah," said Mr. Stark, grinning in a way Peter was instantly weary of, "Like about the time you somehow set fire to a fire extinguisher."
Peter felt his cheeks heat up. "Oh my god, Mr. Stark! For the last time, it was you who threw me the hydrogen and ammonia mixture at me while I was working over an open flame. It's your fault, not mine."
Steve laughed and Peter jumped. He hadn't expected the Captain of the freaking Avengers to like him.
"Well, it sounds like you and I are going to get along well," Steve said with smile. "I expect to see you more, Peter."
"Uh, yes, sir," Peter managed to stumble out.
Steve grinned at him again but then got called away to another conversation. He left with a grimace and apology, turning to the person with a resigned, annoyed air following him.
Peter took a breath. "Oh. My. God, Mr. Stark!"
He laughed and ruffled Peter's hair. "Knew he would like you, Pete. Everyone does. Now come on, I want you to meet more people! This is my one of few chances to show you off and I'm not missing out."
Peter smiled. He took a deep breath.
Weird.
Breathing was getting harder.
Must be the anxiety.
He'd be fine.
Peter scratched his neck and followed Mr. Stark.
"Pete, this is Natasha, and this is Clint. Nat, Birdbrain, this is Peter Parker."
Peter turned, clearing his throat, trying to get something unknown dislodged.
"Miss Romanoff, Mr. Barton!" Peter stammered nervously.
Pull yourself together, Parker. This is Natasha freaking Romanoff and Clint Barton. The best two SHIELD agents the organization has ever seen! Don't be an idiot.
He opened his mouth again, not completely sure if random words were not going to come out. He hesitated, standing there with his mouth agape and tried to formulate a complete thought.
"Why do you always land so superhero-y?"
His face burned. He opened his mouth to-he didn't even know- apologize?
Surprisingly, her face softened and a smile spread on it, though it was evident she was trying to hide it. "What do you mean, kid?"
"I didn't mean- I'm so sorry, I just- I'm just-"
She raised an eyebrow, effectively cutting him off. "Nervous?"
He gave a nod.
"Don't be nervous, kid. I'm not going to kill you."
She sure looked like she would.
He looked to Mr. Stark for help but he was grinning.
Peter jumped in the air and landed in the superhero pose he was talking about, with one leg out and one arm on the ground, demonstrating to the scariest Avenger what he meant. Then he flipped his head up. If he had longer hair, it would have flicked up and behind his head.
He stood up, cheeks burning.
To his surprise, Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanoff laughed.
"What-?"
She smiled at him, a real one this time. "You remind me of my sister. I expect to see you around more, Peter Parker. I've heard a lot about you."
She turned around, effectively cutting off the conversation.
"You have a sister?!" Mr. Stark shouted after her, running off into the crowd.
Peter stayed where he was, suddenly very lightheaded. His throat hurt, and his neck itched. He scratched it, but that only seemed to make it itch more. Finally, he shoved his hands in the pocket of his suit to stop himself from clawing his skin off.
Mr. Stark cam e back through the crowd looking disgruntled. "Won't tell me anything, that woman. Pete, you okay?"
Peter cleared his throat. It was dry. "I'm good," he choked out.
Mr. Stark laughed. "Put into shock by Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, huh?"
He nodded weakly, unable to do much else.
"Well, come on, then," Mr. Stark said, pulling him along again. Peter wanted to pull back. Every touch felt like fire.
"Thor, this is Peter Parker."
Thor.
Peter looked up. His eyes met the very tall, very handsome face of the Norse god. Everything about him screamed terror. Peter felt frozen in the gaze of the mighty Thor. At his side hung the infamous Mjolnir. Peter stared at it with wonder. He'd heard the legends about it. The myths, the stories. Only the worthy could even hold it. He wondered for a minute if he might be able to. But almost immediately, the idea faded from his mind. If none of the actual Avengers could lift the thing, there was absolutely no way Peter could.
It was then that he realized they were waiting for him to answer. "Uh, Mr- Thor- sir...?"
"HA! YOU MIDGUARDIANS ARE SO TINY. IS THIS ONE AMONG THE YOUTHS?"
Peter jumped.
Okay, so the god wasn't what he was expecting at all.
More of a "looks like they could kill you, is a cinnamon roll" type person.
Before Mr. Stark could answer with something stupid and snarky, Peter spoke up. "Kind of," his voice was raspy. "I'm older for my kind, I guess."
"AH, I SEE. WELL, WE MUST TALK MORE LATER! I MAY EVEN INTRODUCE YOU TO MY BROTHER LOKI!"
"Thor, no-"
Mr. Stark was interrupted by a flying bottle. Thor had thrown in high in the air with a loud exclamation of "I LIKE THIS DRINK!". Peter leapt up on instinct. Maybe it was his spidey senses being extra weird today, or if it was just a normal thing for him to do now. He kicked the air under the bottle quickly, doing half a flip so that he was flat in the air. The kick under the bottle had given it a bit more air time. Just what Peter needed. He finished the flip, and caught the bottle as he landed before it smashed to the ground.
"Peter!"
Thor and Mr. Stark stared at him.
"I LIKE THIS ONE! WE WILL MEET AGAIN, SIR PETER."
Peter stared at the bottle in his hand in horror, whipping his head around to make sure no one else had seen.
"Peter."
"I didn't mean to, I swear!"
But Mr. Stark was laughing. "That was the best possible way you could have made a lasting impression on him. I gotta say I'm impressed, Parker."
Peter laughed along weakly. Mr. Stark noticed. He sobered up instantly.
"Am I taking it too far, Pete? I really just want to show you off, but I can stop if it's making you uncomfortable."
Peter rubbed his throat, trying desperately to draw in air without wheezing. "No, that's fine. It's fun meeting all of them. It's just-"
Mr. Stark had grabbed him again as soon as he had given consent. Peter closed his mouth and tried to follow the man without tripping over his own feet.
"Good, because you're going to love the next one."
He pulled him over to the bar where Bruce fucking Banner stood leaned against, looking just as uncomfortable as Peter felt.
But he stopped dead in his tracks. That was Doctor Bruce Banner! Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!
"Hey, Brucie Bear!"
"Tony," Dr. Banner said upon seeing Peter. "Is this your intern?"
"Yep! This is the famous Peter Parker!"
Peter just stood there, still. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide.
"Hey, Peter," Doctor Banner greeted quietly.
Peter didn't say a word. After a few seconds, Dr. Banner shied away from him, looking dejected. "It's okay, I'm not going to turn into the-"
"You're Doctor Bruce Banner!"
Peter found his voice, finally.
"Yes," Dr. Banner said carefully. "Like I said, I'm not going to hulk-"
But now that Peter had found his voice in the presence of one of his biggest inspirations, it wouldn't die.
"You're the most renowned scientist of the generation! I've read all your papers! I've read all your journals, too! That piece on gamma radiation and the effect it has on the biological, hormonal ecosystem in relation to high levels of vexation was brilliant!"
Bruce blinked.
"You know who I am? You've read my papers? And you understand them?"
"Of course," Peter said, sounding astonished at Bruce's surprise. "I read most of them when I was seven or eight."
"Wow."
"My aunt got me a few copies of your journals! It's how I first got into chemistry! It's so cool to actually meet you!"
Peter knew he was rambling. He knew his voice was horse and sounded stupid. He knew his spidey senses were screaming at him now to do something about an unknown danger. And he knew that he had stopped breathing involuntarily.
"Peter!"
Peter wheezed, the breath taking a huge effort. "Mr. Stark, I-"
"Are you okay? Oh my god, what's going on with your neck?"
"My neck?"
Peter touched his neck. It was warm and raw from having beens scratched all evening.
"Mr. Stark!"
Peter finally realized what was going on. How could he be so stupid!
"Peppermint!"
"What?"
"Peppermint!"
He gasped again, trying desperately to take in air through his mouth. But his swollen throat wouldn't let him.
"What!"
"Peppermint! I'm allergic!"
Mr. Stark cursed loudly. "Fuck, Peter! Are you gonna be okay?"
Peter felt his swollen throat throb in pain. He shook his head desperately, feeling tears leak from his eyes.
"Anaphylaxis, Tony." Bruce. Dr. Bruce Banner. "He's going into anaphylaxis. We have to get him to the med bay. I have epinephrine there. Come on! Move!"
Mr. Stark jumped up, scooping Peter's body into his arms and rushed to the elevator.
"FRIDAY, open the elevator and take me down to the med bay! Now!"
The last thing Peter saw was bright lights. Flashing lights. A white room. Scratchy sheets. A needle.
Needles didn't like him.
Or was it that he didn't like needles?
It didn't matter. His world was turning black.
The final thing Peter saw was Mr. Stark's worried face until his consciousness deserted him.
When Peter woke up, he was very confused. The ceiling of the room he was in was the med bay in Avenger's tower. He'd seen it many times, in the same position. Stab wounds, gunshots, a concussion.
But he hadn't been on patrol.
That he remembered.
So what had happened to him?
"Peter! Thank god you're awake."
There was a voice he knew all too well. Mr. Stark. He would normally be pretty pissed off and angry with him for worrying him whenever he found himself waking up in this position.
Instead, he was disheveled and messy. His hair was unwashed and unbrushed. His face was tired and anxious.
"I'm so sorry, Peter."
It all came rushing back to him now. Christmas parties. Peppermint. Allergic.
God damn.
That was so lame.
He was Spider-Man and he nearly got taken out, not by a gunshot or a stab or anything cool like that, no, he had almost gotten totaled by a fucking candy cane.
"Sorry for what?" Peter asked, wincing as his throat protested the speaking.
"Try not to talk so much, Peter."
He jumped. That was a new voice he'd never heard before. He turned to see who it was.
Doctor. Bruce. Banner.
Holy. Shit.
Now he remembered. He remembered all of it.
Despite the man's command, Peter opened his mouth again. "Doctor Banner!"
"Shhhh."
"I-"
"Peter! Listen to me, okay?"
He turned slowly back to Mr. Stark. "I'm so, so sorry. I know you were trying to tell me something was wrong. I know you were trying to tell me you felt fucked. But I ignored you. I'm so, so sorry."
"Mr. Stark-"
"I'm in the wrong, Peter. I don't want you to even try blaming yourself, okay?"
"But I could have tried hard-"
"Nope! Nada, zip it. You don't get to do that. I'm not perfect, Peter. I make mistakes. Very bad mistakes sometimes. Hell, it almost cost you your life this time."
"Mr. Stark," Peter pushed on, ignoring the stern glance he earned. "It's not your fault, okay? I'm fine, and I'm going to be fine. Quit blaming yourself. I know you've made some mistakes, but in the end, it's always you who fixes them. I know you spend ever waking hour you can to fix all of your mistakes. I admire that, but I also want you to know that you're not perfect, and you never will be. So stop focussing on what you did and how you're gonna fix it, but focus on how you can stop yourself from making the same mistakes in the future. Now, I'm not saying this is your fault. It wasn't your mistake. It was mine. I forgot to tell you I was allergic. I didn't tell you that I felt off. I didn't tell you that my spidey senses were firing at me. You didn't know. You didn't know before you sprayed the whole tower with peppermint sent. It's. Not. Your. Fault, Tony."
Mr. Stark stared at him. He looked contemplative.
"How about we agree that I will stop blaming myself if you stop talking, okay?"
Peter scowled. "Cheater."
"You've already lost, kid. No dice."
"I just have one question, Mr. Stark."
"Shoot, Roo."
"What happened to my tie?"
Peter bit the inside of his cheek nervously. If he had lost that tie, or if it had been cut off to get to his neck...
"It's in your room. It looked like a pretty nice tie. Looked like it had some age to it. I had to cut the suit, though. But I'll replace that."
Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "It was my uncle's"
Tony whistled slowly. "Good thing, then, eh, Roo?"
"Yeah," Peter agreed wholeheartedly. "Good."
"Are you falling asleep? Aw, come on, Roo!"
Peter waved a hand. "Don't blame yourself, Mr. Stark."
Right before he fell again into sleep, he heard Dr. Banner say loudly, "Spidey sense?"
Mr. Stark groaned.