Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You heard it here first, folks! The spider menace is back at it again, his endless fighting with Doc Ock causing destruction wherever they go. And this time some of the citizens he so gleefully claims he will protect were injured! I urge you, the good people of New York, to wake up, and see spider man for what he truly is! A crooked vigilante that can’t even protect-“

Peter sighed as he shut his phone off and tucked it away in his pocket. Yesterday’s fight with Doctor Octopus was another failure. The villain had managed to escape, and Peter couldn’t even properly protect the people caught in the crossfire. No one had died, but it didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. It was almost halfway through Peter’s second year of dealing with the man, and much to his dismay the fights were steadily getting harder. The doctor was smart, and even as Peter improved, he was adapting even quicker than him. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, hence the reason he turned off his phone.

Peter had finally found a seemingly decent lead on the whereabouts of Doc Ock’s hideout. The current one at least. He was going to start reviewing what he’d pieced together, but got distracted when he saw another rant from J. Jonah Jameson. He wished the man’s words didn’t hurt him as much as they did, but he was starting to make people doubt him. And it wasn’t a feeling Peter liked in the slightest. Still, as he said goodbye to Ned and rushed out of school for the day, he was steadily getting more and more excited to put on the suit, as well as for the weekend. 

He and Mr. Stark were planning on making some upgrades to his web shooters. The part Peter was most excited for was the chance to actually develop his web fluid. He’d always managed at school, but having access to whatever chemicals he needed, working alongside one of the smartest people in the world, and not having to hide it and rush things? It made things stupidly easier.

Peter was only a couple of hours into his patrol for the day, and he’d stopped a few muggings, helped multiple cats out of multiple different trees (seriously, why were Fridays always cat-in-tree days?) and even prevented two car crashes. As he swung through the city, he and Karen were working together to narrow down the base location, when they finally succeeded. They actually succeeded! Peter almost flung himself straight into a building out of shock. Before he got the chance to alert Tony and the other Avengers about the good news, he was forced to dodge a very angry mechanical arm.

“Oh come on !" Peter whined. "Didn’t I send you running yesterday? And every other day before that? Cant you take a day off, it’s a Friday after all!” Peter shouted as he swung around the corner and locked eyes with Doctor Octopus. Well, more like he saw the villain's sunglasses. The man never took the bloody things off, and it got frustrating on more than one occasion.

“You should count yourself grateful for your victory yesterday. It’s a shame I won’t let you win again today.” Ock mused with a grin. If Peter didn’t overthink things, he would have taken that for what it probably was. A taunt. But something about how close yesterday’s battle was, and the cocky air that was hanging around the Doctor today made his hair stand on end.

Peter jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding two of Doc Ock’s robot tentacles, and swung back the way he came. He’d been heading towards a less crowded and more run down part of Queens, and if he was going to engage in a fight, it seemed like the best place to go. Fewer people meant less of a chance for anyone to get hurt. Peter swung for a time, dodging the Doctor’s attacks and doing his best to hit him back, landing a few good shots with his webs and successfully slowing him down enough for Peter to stay in the lead. But something didn’t feel right. 

Peter chose to ignore it, and kept leading his foe through Queens when he spotted an opening for a good fight location. Unfortunately for him, Doctor Octopus noticed it as well. Peter didn’t manage to dodge his attack this time, and Ock launched him directly towards an old construction site. Peter hit his back on one of the concrete pillars, wincing in pain as he noticed a light gash on his side from where he was grabbed. He quickly patched it up with a web and glanced up to another attack, barely managing to dodge again. Peter made a mental note to thank whatever god was up there for his spidey sense.

Still outside, Peter launched the remaining building materials lying around at his foe. While the Doctor managed to block most attacks, he got a direct hit on the man’s chest, winding him for a few moments. Stationed on the wall of the building, Peter took the opportunity to grab Ock with his webs and launch himself towards him, and while the arms prevented Peter from hitting him directly, he knocked him back far enough to collide with the meant to be temporary walls blocking off the site.

“So are you just going to keep barely hitting me while I kick your ass?” Peter mocked. He wasn’t sure if making the ever more frustrated villain even more motivated to win was a good idea, but joking relieved stress and made openings he could exploit. Usually.

“You’ll regret your words, Spidermenace ” he spat, venom dripping off of the crude mockery of Peter's alias. 

As Doc Ock approached him, Peter used his webs to fling bits of debris at him, but the Doctor managed to push him further and further inside the building. The pair were trading blows evenly, but an old building that might collapse was one of the last places Peter wanted to be right now. Or ever really. 

Ock managed to snag Peter by the leg, throwing him through a wall. Before the webslinger could recover, he found himself smashed through multiple roofs up to the third floor, and his face slammed into a pillar.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” The Doctor sneered. He was getting the upper hand.

“Shut up!” Peter hissed as he managed to pry out of Ock’s grasp and use his webs to drop one of the pillars and part of the ceiling on the man. With the villain distracted, Peter used the opportunity to jump up to the fourth floor and hide, waiting for a good opportunity to strike. 

This could be going better. Much better. Along with the start of a headache, Peter could feel the blood trickling down his nose, soaking his mask a deep shade of crimson. What’s worse is his back felt very bruised. Something, no, multiple things were definitely broken, and he didn’t have time to figure out what. Peter heard and felt the floor break as Doctor Octopus climbed to his floor.

“Playing hide and seek are we?” Doctor Octopus mocked. “Well, you’d better pray I don’t find you. Because when I do, you aren’t going to win this fight Spiderman. And I think we both know that.” He cackled. 

Peter would be a liar if he said he wasn’t afraid. He’d only just noticed that the Doctor had managed to disable Karen with the blow to his head. Or maybe it was the roof. It was hard to tell. Well isn’t that just spectacular!

Peter shuddered as he heard the unmistakable clicks and groans of the Doctor’s arms. It put his spider sense and his normal senses on edge. He was searching for him, and Peter had to act. He really didn’t want to think about what would happen if he made a mistake here. For once his Parker luck wasn’t kicking in, as the floor he was on was substantially darker than the others. Frantically looking around him, he managed to locate a broken metal rod. The edge was threateningly sharp, and the metal was sturdy. 

Careful not to accidentally alert his foe of his location, Peter slowly and quietly made his way over to it and picked it up. 

“I must say, for a moment there I did think you’d gotten the upper hand. But you underestimated me and my machines. And it is going to be your downfall.” Ock’s voice echoed throughout the floor, taunting him. 

The webslinger carefully made his way from room to room, mainly sticking to the ceiling. Peter, weapon in hand, located his target. Doctor Octopus was entering the next room, with his back turned. He noticed his opponent was standing hunched over, and he could see a bloodstain on the back of his trench coat. 

Taking his only opportunity, Peter shot himself forward with as much force as he could muster, leaving cracks in the ceiling. And before the Doctor could react, Peter flung the rod forward, piercing one of the tentacles’ joints and lodging itself in Doctor Octopus’ right shoulder. Ock howled in pain as his human hands instinctively grabbed at his shoulder, and Peter swears he could see the man’s rage through his glasses. The bright red light on the right upper tentacle flickered, and the entire thing started to malfunction and shake. 

Adrenaline propelling him, Peter dodged a furious swipe from two of his working tentacle arms, and landed a solid kick to his face. Peter could hear the crunch as it ricocheted around the room, but as the momentum knocked Doctor Octopus out of the building, the final arm collided with Peter’s head and made a sickening crack. The impact ripped a large gash across his face and broke part of his mask, sending him careening through a pillar and across the room. Peter didn’t have a chance to follow his foe, instantly falling unconscious, buried under the rubble caused by the impact. Doctor Octopus had no other option but to flee, too injured to risk another confrontation, leaving the vigilante alone in the rubble and dust of their shared defeat. 

Chapter Text

The first thing Peter noticed when he woke up, was how much everything hurt. His face, his back, his arms and legs, everything was in agony. But the winner was definitely his head. It felt like it was violently throbbing against his skull, every small movement sending a fiery jolt of pain back to it and making things worse.

As he slowly and carefully moved himself out of the rubble he was piled under (swearing multiple times as he almost passed out again), and glanced outside of the building he was in.

The sun was gone, and the faint and distant flickering of stars dotted the sky. Clouds were starting to move in and the stars along with the moon were almost all covered. As Peter stared into the sky and tried to recall what had happened to him, it terrified him when he realised he couldn’t. The harder he tried the more he realised couldn’t remember anything. Faint memories were dangling just out of reach, and on instinct Peter reached for his face.

The familiar fabric of his mask, though he didn’t recognise its importance, kept him calm and made the pain a little bit more bearable. He didn’t know why it was so important, but he knew he had to keep it on. 

The large gash across the side of it through his ear down underneath his eye was alarming to say the least. Dried blood, dirt and other miscellaneous rubble covered him, and as he processed his situation the urge to leave and get to safety almost became overwhelming.

Slowly, carefully and very painfully he made his way out of the building. There were very few people around and it comforted Peter immensely, as those who were nearby were easy to stay hidden from. 

Keeping to the shadows, away from people and cameras, he didn’t entirely know where he was going. There was however one place he could remember for certain and he didn’t want to risk going somewhere unfamiliar, so he slowly approached the location.

Peter had no idea how long he’d been walking for, an hour? Maybe two? He didn’t know the truth, but what he did know was each step was getting harder and harder to take. He desperately wanted to sleep, to pass out on the floor then and there and stop being in so much pain, but his instincts refused to let him. 

After far too much walking (closer to stumbling really) Peter finally found what he was looking for. On the outskirts of… whatever city he was in, there was a row of large warehouses and factories near an old and abandoned port. Despite their appearance, Peter knew that they weren’t all empty and abandoned.

Peter could feel his grip on reality finally start slipping, and he made his way to one of the structures. He was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and as he approached the door he stumbled more and more. 

Peter used the little strength he had left to bang on the door, and called out to whoever was inside. Peter couldn’t remember who lived there, all he knew is that he needed to go there. And if this was the one place he remembered, it had to be safe, right?

Doctor Octopus wasn’t an easy man to leave stunned. Mock him in a fight? Sure he’d get pissed off and unfocused, but he’d argue that’s a fair response. Put one of his tentacles out of commission temporarily? Shock and pain, yes, absolutely yes, but it’s happened before and not even that would stun him. Seeing the bastard that threw a metal rod through his right fucking shoulder and mock him on their every encounter, looking like he’d drop dead at his doorstep? That’ll do it.

When he’d noticed his cameras had detected someone outside, that’s about the last thing he expected to see. Spiderman was alone, injured and slowly making his way to his lair, which by the way he should not know the location of. 

For a little while the only thing he could do was rip off his glasses and stare at the cameras like he’d seen a ghost, his good arm instinctively holding his injured shoulder. But then he remembered how to function as a human being, and got up to strangle the man. And he was about to, but then he talked and once again, the Doctor could only stare at the cameras in stunned silence.

“Umm... hi? Is anyone, is anyone there? I’m. I need- yeah I need help and I didn’t- and I didn’t know where to go but I remember this place and I don’t know why but I do and I don’t remember anything else and I’d really like you to open the door? If you’re… even there.” Spiderman sighed as he stumbled and grabbed onto the building for support.

Ignoring the clicking of the actuators, the Doctor stared at the screen for a few moments more, before slowly making his way to the door. He cautiously pulled it open and the eyes on the webslinger’s mask widened, apparently happy to see him.

Before his arms could act, Spiderman ripped off his mask and smiled at him. And as Doctor Octopus looked down at the intruder an overwhelming and nearly unmatched feeling of horror overtook him. It overwhelmed him and for once the damn arms stopped their never ending chattering and whispering and talking and it was silent. Because he didn’t know how to react and neither did they .

“Oh thank- thank god I thought. I was starting to think nobody was there and that I was alone and I’d pass out here. This is great- this is great! Although I think- oh yeah I’m definitely still going to pass out.” Peter said as he stumbled and almost fell through the doorway, and the Doctor gently caught him with his good arm.

Peter blinked at him as his eyes started to close and his legs stopped being able to hold him up, and he mumbled another ‘thank you’ as he finally slipped out of consciousness. 

The silence was gone far too quickly and his mind was once again filled with questions and suggestions and their own answers, and that combined with the shock he felt almost made him pass out too. Steadying himself with two of the arms, once he felt confident enough to walk he shifted their purpose to carrying the severely injured and unconscious boy into his lab.

Refusing to think about the implications yet, he made his way through the factory to the medical ward he’d set up. A medbay was always stationed in his hideouts, but after his fights with Spiderman got more and more dangerous he had to spend more time making sure he had good working tech that he could use to fix himself. That investment into his tech was the reason he hadn’t lost his right arm or worse .

He gently set Peter down onto one of the beds, and ran diagnostics on his injuries. Breaks and fractures were scattered across his body, with the most notable ones being his nose, a good handful of ribs and his left leg. He didn’t understand how he’d even managed to get here on it. If there weren’t breaks, there were bruises or lacerations. 

As the Doctor cleaned and treated his injuries, stitched the deep lacerations along his face and his side, put his leg in a cast and a splint on his nose, the weight of the past two and a half years was starting to crush him.

Doctor Octopus wasn’t fighting Spiderman. He was fighting a teenager. Not even just that- he was fighting a teenager that he knew . He’d almost killed a child multiple times and had plans to do so. Fuck, their last encounter he’d meant to slaughter him.  

As the A.I’s chittered away in his mind, not understanding, not comprehending what he’d done, what they’d all done they tried to silence his concern. They didn’t understand why he was helping the boy. But for once they wouldn't win. Every time it came close, he took another glance at the halfway dead boy lying unconscious on one of the beds in the med bay and everything crashed into him again.

As Otto stared at Peter, giving his injuries another overview to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, he remembered him when he was younger. He’d met the brilliant boy when he was about 13, and he can still recall how his intelligence stunned him. He was running a workshop on the request of his friend Doctor Connors, and Peter was the youngest person there. He was also one of the smartest people there. 

He was there that day with his Aunt, and he still remembers how proud she was that Peter understood everything. Otto was able to discuss things he’d talk about with 17-18 year olds with the young Parker, and he remembers how the boy’s face lit up as he was taught new things.

And a few hours ago Otto was going to kill him . Fuck- he’d damn near succeeded. The injury to his shoulder was one of the worst ones he’d sustained from the webslinger. The fact that it got that bad being because he’d pushed him to his limits didn't excite and comfort him the way it did just a few hours ago. It made him sick to his very core .

He knew why he was doing all of this. But he’d never harmed children. The exception being he’d mildly injured a few teens during his fights with Spiderman, but this was different. This was so much different and it was so much worse.

As he sat next to the unconscious boy, he processed his words. The blow to his head clearly impacted his memories. He’d need to wait for him to wake up (and he refused to think about the possibility that he wouldn’t) to see just how bad the damage was. 

But if Peter knew where his current base was, he had to have figured it out sometime that day. He would have acted sooner if he discovered it any earlier, and it was luck that this was the spot he remembered. If it was somewhere like Avengers Tower he doubted he’d even make it there. Otto shuddered at the thought.

As he looked Peter over one more time, his mind latched onto one of the only outlets he had: rage. He knew that Spiderman was grouped with the Avengers, at the very least Iron Man, and they were actively allowing him, probably encouraging him to almost get killed. Even as he realised how high tech the webslinger’s suit was (no doubt funded if not created by Tony himself) it stayed, because their fights made it undoubtedly clear that it wasn’t enough. 

Confirming that he’d done all that he could to fix the boy’s injuries, he went over to set up painkillers and let him rest and heal. While doing so, Otto came to a new resolve. He was going to ensure Peter got better. And if he couldn’t convince him to stop, if the teen was going to go about swinging through New York, he’d step in where the Avengers were failing. He’d make sure he was actually safe doing so.

Chapter Text

Peter has been unconscious for three days. He was healing, far quicker than Otto expected him to, but he wasn’t conscious just yet. His bones, while they were in a far better state than before, were still broken, and the bruises were yet to disappear. The gash across his face however, was clearly going to scar. It was a slightly curved, clean slash through his right ear and down underneath his eye, ending a few centimetres away from his nose. Despite the guilt for leaving the boy with such a prominent injury, he was unbelievably grateful it didn’t hit his eye or his nose, and that so far it looked like his hearing wouldn’t be impacted too severely. The most important thing of all though was that he was alive .

As for himself, Otto wasn't recovering nearly as fast. His nose was broken and his arm was in a sling, which didn't look like it was getting out of it any time soon. Additionally, he hadn’t gotten a proper night’s sleep since Peter showed up on his doorstep. Despite his situation, he’d made progress on repairing the broken tentacle. He’d had to remove the claw to fix the arm and it was more difficult than he’d expected. Paired with his injuries and the passed out teenager he was harboring, the repairs were starting to get frustrating.

He was currently putting the blame for his lack of sleep on a combination of guilt, pain and trying to talk with the A.I’s. Keeping himself in charge of what they were doing, combined with their prominent complaints, insistence that they know better and the pissed off and pained screeching of the injured one was getting unbelievably infuriating. All the while ensuring the arms that No , the teen lying unconscious on the bed in the other room wasn’t a threat and while yes , he had been fighting him, he was no longer even remotely a target. Still, Otto pressed onward and made use of all the working arms he had left and kept fiddling with the wiring.

As he tinkered and worked on the repairs, he turned his thoughts towards the avengers. That was one thing he and his A.I’s could get along about: they weren’t good enough. They put Peter in danger and he was furious about it. The audacity they had to send a mere teenager to handle the problems the public faced instead of helping themselves. 

And Stark, keeping renewable energy to himself , was the exact kind of reason he had to finish his own creation. Sure there were dangers, but everything was worth proving once and for all that it worked. So that people could use it, that he could use it and people wouldn’t be stuck holding their breath for renewable and sustainable energy when they could easily provide it to everyone. So that he would get the respect and praise he rightfully deserved for it. He was so close to trying again so many times, to finally proving it worked and the webslinger stopped Every. Single. Attempt. And while he didn’t see it before he saw it clearly now. All five of them did: Stark was to blame for that as well. 

If Spiderman didn’t get his hands on the resources and training provided by him he would have been able to dispose of him so much sooner - they would have gotten him out of the way earlier and he’d already have his creation completed and working. But he hadn’t. And now Peter was unconscious, he didn’t know when he would wake up, and he had been on his deathbed mere days ago. That’s what he had to focus on. His machine could wait, the teen was more important right now. So he blocked out the A.I’s furious complaints and started working on what he was going to do next. Peter’s apparent memory loss would need to be checked over to see how severe it was, and he’d go from there.

-

Slowly drifting back into reality, Peter grumbled and covered his eyes. The light hitting them was irritating, but the covers he was under were soft. After a few minutes and the realisation he wouldn’t be falling back asleep, he let his eyes adjust and sat up in his bed. He looked around the room he was in, and it seemed like a slightly less professional hospital room. There were two other beds in the area, and a desk in the corner with paperwork and small mechanical tools scattered about. A tingle down his spine pulled him from his drifty state, and prompted him to look at the door. Shortly after, it opened and someone walked in.

“Ah, you’re awake. That’s good, you’ve had me concerned for the past few days.” the man he faintly recognized said, smiling at him. He almost seemed guilty. 

“Oh, sorry sir! That’s the last thing I wanted. Well, thank you for taking care of me? I mean, if you are the one who did that. You feel.. familiar? I’m not sure how to put it, but it feels like I know you.” 

Peter noticed how the man looked shocked and almost unsettled, while at the same time clearly being concerned about his well-being. He didn’t know how he felt about it.

“Considering the extent of your injuries I’m honestly shocked you weren’t unconscious longer. Please dear boy, there’s no need to apologise. It’s the least I could do for you. Are… you alright? I’ve given you the strongest painkillers I have, and any more could do you harm, so anything besides that I should be able to assist with.” He said, smiling awkwardly at him. Peter could tell something was up with him, but he had no clue where to start with unpacking that yet.

“Well, it’d be nice to know your name so I don’t have to call you ‘Mr. Sir’” he chuckled.

“And… maybe, well, I really don’t remember much of anything. Do uh, have you got any clues?” He laughed solemnly, trying to keep the mood light. He was just now starting to realise how little he could recall on so many things. He’d known it when he woke up in that warehouse, but he was in so much pain he couldn't dwell on it even if he wanted to. Now there was nothing stopping him from doing just that, and it was terrifying . 

The man paused for a moment, almost like he was spacing out, then carefully responded.

“…Octavius. Otto Octavius. And it seems the memory loss is worse than I’d hoped.” He sighed. “I don’t know very much, but I can fill you in on a few things. But first, maybe something to eat and drink would do you some good” He proposed. Peter couldn't shake the feeling that he was trying to change the subject, but the roar of his stomach interrupted his train of thought and he realised how right he was.

“Yeah. That uh- that sounds like a good idea.”

Otto nodded and turned around to exit the room when Peter’s two brain cells finally communicated with each other, and he processed the sling his right arm was in. He was about to ask if he needed help carrying anything, when he felt the tingle at the back of his spine go off again and saw something move under his coat. The door opened and shut behind him without Peter being able to see how. Realistically he knows that this should be freaking him out a lot more than it is, but he’s still too tired, hungry and thirsty to actively care about much. If it wasn’t for the social interaction and the promise of food he’d probably already be back asleep. If anything, he was more intrigued than scared. 

While he waited for Mr. Octavius to return, he finally started to notice the pain from his injuries. He had no idea how it took this long for him to realise, but he felt like he got hit by a train. Everything was sore and he felt tired and sluggish. Apparently that wasn’t just because he’d been unconscious. The feeling of having broken bones was.. uncomfortably familiar. It almost felt semi-normal, which definitely wasn’t a particularly good thing. And it made the cut under his eye stand out to his senses far more than everything else. He gently felt his face, and he was pretty sure the stitches were polished and well done. He went quiet for a bit as he realised how big the cut really was, and that it would definitely scar. At least it was a cool one?

It wasn’t long before Mr. Octavius returned with a bowl of soup, some toast and two glasses of water. He stared at the tray of food like it was the highest quality dish he’d ever seen. He was about to ask how he carried it in so easily, when he noticed the two massive robotic claws carrying each end. All of his focus immediately switched to the contraptions, and he stared at them in awe.

“Holy shit. Did you build these?” the boy gawked, eyes blown wide open. Otto hesitated as he most likely thought about his response, eventually deciding to answer the teen's question.

“Yes I did, a few years ago. They’ve gone through substantial tweaks and upgrades, all of which I’ve done myself.” He stated proudly, each of the arms chittering with what Peter is pretty sure was pride.

Otto set the tray down on the table beside the bed, and carefully maneuvered one of the claws in front of Peter so he could get a better look at it. Peter equally as carefully held it in his hands and fiddled around with it for a little while. The craftsmanship was incredible, and the tools it had equipped to it meant it could be used for incredibly precise things.

“This- oh my god this is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen! Well. That I can remember seeing. I mean- you look at it and you just think it’s good for moving you around and grabbing things and stuff, but there’s so much more to it than that. How does it work? Is it some really cool special programming? It doesn’t look like there are any remotes, is it an A.I? Like- this is really cool, this is amazing.” Peter rambled, looking back up at Mr. Octavius.  Peter noticed that it looked like the man was spacing out again, but this time it looked like more of a struggle. Shortly after though, he looked at him in shock. It was like no one had said any of this before.

“You’ve gotten praised for this stuff before.. right? I mean. It’s incredible. This kind of technology is life changing.” He smiled. Mr. Octavius tried and failed to find the words a few times, eventually settling on a sad smile.

“You have no idea how true your words are, dear boy,” he sighed. “I doubt you’ll be praising me in time, but thank you. It’s.. nice, to have my creations seen for what they are. What they could be.”

Before Peter could ask him what he meant, he noticed that the end of one of the arm’s was missing, and his focus immediately changed.

“Oh! What happened to that one?” Peter asked, genuinely curious. 

“You broke it”, he heard the doctor mutter under his breath, his calm and collected mood shifting to anger almost in an instant.

“I… I did?” He said quietly, gently reaching for the cut underneath his eye on impulse. Doctor Octavius looked up at him shocked, he clearly didn’t think he’d hear it.

“Well, yes- but you had fair reason to” he responded, the anger disappearing again. Each of the arms chittered again at the word ‘fair’, though this time it seemed far less pleasant. He sighed, before gently handing Peter the tray and going to leave the room again.

“Ah- thank you for this, really I appreciate it, but- what about the stuff with my memories? Did I hurt you? Have I hurt other people?” Peter asked, disappointed that it seemed like he wouldn’t be getting answers after all and starting to get very worried. What had he been doing? Otto stopped in his tracks. He paused to think for a moment, spacing out again and the arms trying to prompt him out of the room. But he stayed, turned around and eventually answered with

“Nothing could be further from the truth, dear boy. You were helping people.” He smiled, the arms going off at him again. That response only added to Peter’s confusion. 

Before he could ask any other questions, Otto continued. “I apologise that I can’t explain yet, but I will later today. You have my word. For now, eat, drink, and rest. Your recovery is what’s most important at the moment.” 

Peter couldn't argue with that logic. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t getting tired again. Plus, he was very excited to finally get some food and water into his system.

“Alright then. You promise?”

Otto was taken aback for a moment.

“Yes. I promise.” He smiled faintly before leaving the room again, using one of the tentacle arms to gently shut the door behind him, leaving Peter to his own devices once more.

Peter was more unsettled, and much more confused than he was before. However, his hunger caught up to him and he happily finished the meal that Mr. Octavius left him. He was right, he was hungry, tired and in pain and he definitely wanted to sleep more. As fatigue crept up on him, he started to sort through the information he’d learned today. Mr. Octavius seemed lovely, and the arms he created were extremely cool, but there was something off about them. And to a lesser extent, him. He didn’t know what yet, but something was not right. The thought of an A.I made something prickle at the back of his mind, a memory maybe? Hard to tell. It was like trying to locate the edge of your blanket at 3am, there was no chance he was going to find it. He was far too tired to be thinking about this stuff properly, and despite the worry, he managed to fall asleep once more.

-

As time passed and the morning turned into the afternoon, Peter kept sleeping. And Otto Octavius went back to trying to repair the now almost fixed arm, as well as additionally preparing to tell Peter the truth. He’d thought about lying to him, the arms agreed that it was a good idea, but he’d put the boy through enough. He wouldn’t lie to his face. He deserved to know the truth.

And as his location stayed as a mystery, somewhere in upstate New York, Peter has been missing for three days.

Chapter Text

3 days ago.

Tony rolled his eyes as Fury continued yapping on about the purpose of today’s meeting. He already knew everything, of course, Fury had the decency to debrief him beforehand. 

This get together was so important he even had to order Friday not to bother him unless it was an emergency.

The runaways. 

Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, and.. Bucky Barnes.

Most of which were once trusted team members, sent on the run after the shitshow with the accords.

Fury had been working behind the scenes to get the world’s various governments off of their asses, and it seems he’d actually managed it. The condition? Tony had to babysit them. Wonderful.

He and the others had been fighting for revisions and changes to the accords, a good amount of which were actually starting to make their way through as their public image slowly improved.

In part thanks to the effort of people like Pepper, as well as their genuine supporters that stuck by them and were making more and more people realise that they had always done their best, to try and save as many people as they can.

Yknow, that the world would be over about 10 times by now without them.

And as an added bonus, someone who was definitely not Maria Hill reminded everyone ( with footage) that all the way back in 2012 the government was going to unsuccessfully nuke the city and get everyone killed anyways.

If Tony was going to have PTSD about that, as far as he’s concerned he deserved at least a bit of credit for saving everyone’s asses.

And as badly as he’d fucked up with Ultron, that party? Before everything went to shit? It was one of the best memories he had. Key word, was .

Maybe this would help him not look back on it and feel so torn.

It wasn’t all bad at least. As utterly disastrously things had ended between him and Steve, he.. he missed him. He missed them all. At least how things were before the accords. When they were a team, a family.  

But just because he missed his friends didn’t mean this was going to be easy.

Romanoff and Wilson were fine in his books. Same as Barton, Maximoff and Lang. He’d gotten over it pretty quickly once the dust settled. Honestly, that felt closer to a sparring match between friends looking back on it now.

Oh, at the time it didn’t. But now? Water under the bridge.

As for the remaining two..

He was grateful that Fury had given him a heads up about this meeting beforehand, he cringed imagining opening a door and seeing them all there with no warning. Maybe tall, dark and scary was smart after all.

Barnes and Rogers were… a complicated pair.

Tony didn’t want to blame him for what happened to his parents, not any more. Once he’d been able to take a step back and rationally look at the situation, he’d realised it relatively quickly.

Now with the power of hindsight, he felt like an absolute prick for what he did to him. 

But every time he looked at him, or even thought about him, the only thing that crossed his mind was watching his parents die. Watching his mother die.

He wasn’t excited to see Barnes again, but he did want closure. Because he can also remember the look in his eyes when the truth was revealed. It looked like it haunted him almost as much as it was haunting himself.

Maybe this would be good for both of them. Absolutely horrible to begin with, he was not looking forward to it, but good in the end.

It’s what he was telling himself at least.

Steve Rogers was an entirely different can of worms.

He trusted him, he fought side by side with him defending everyone on the planet, everyone they loved, and he kept something so fucking important to him a secret.

Which in turn, let Zemo manipulate him with it. He knew it was Zemo’s plan from the get go, as soon as that video started playing. But he physically could not hold himself back. And can you blame him?

Steve had apologized to him, which he did appreciate. But he couldn’t accept it. Not yet at least, not just from a message written over paper.

There was so much leftover animosity focused toward Steve, and he hated that it was there. But it was Steve’s fault, his own damn fault it was.

He wanted to be able to forgive him, to move past everything. But that was so much easier said than done.

Forgiving Barnes was one thing, his actions were because of HYDRA, and they weren’t practically family before everything happened. But Steve? What Steve did to him? He didn’t know if he had it in him to ever truly move past it. He didn’t know if things would ever be the same.

But he wanted to try. After all… that’s what you do for family, isn’t it? 

And if Steve was willing to bare with him, as long as it took, even if things never fully healed between them? Maybe there was a chance.

He’d been given a few days to consider it, babysitting duty. And really, nothing needed to be considered. He couldn’t turn them away. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Steve would do the same for him. Stupid Rogers, making him take the moral high ground. 

But hey, at least the burden wouldn’t just fall to him. 

It’d be the avengers new overarching assignment, make sure their old buddies would play nice. Which he had run by the rest of them, to a chorus of agreement. 

Peter in particular practically started vibrating with excitement at the prospect of meeting the rest of the avengers. Even aware of the rocky history, it couldn’t overpower the strength of the fanboy inside of him.

The only person he seems more excited to meet someday is Thor, which honestly? He can’t really blame him. The two would get along great.

If Fury had the decency to give him a heads up, the least he could do was return that courtesy to the rest of his team. That definitely eased the stress a bit.

And having Pepper by his side, with her hand placed gently in his. That helped significantly.

So, as Fury finished summarizing the purpose of today’s meeting to the soon to be semi-avengers, Tony dragged his attention properly back to the conversation.

“Well, that should cover everything. Any questions?” Fury asked, arms crossed behind his back like an angry dad. It was honestly comical that that was his normal posture.

“Fury, I- I don’t know what to say..” Steve spoke up, and Tony risked shooting a glance at the others. 

He’d be lying if the joy and relief on their faces didn’t make him smile just a bit. Something something time heals all wounds or whatever.

He wasn’t perfect or completely rational back then, far from it. But he was trying his damn best, that’s all any of them ever did. That’s all any of them were doing with the accords. And he couldn’t imagine being on the run from the law, living like that for so long.

Even if he didn’t particularly want to interact with any of them, he wanted them safe. After everything they’ve all been through, all the good they’ve done, they deserved it.

“Well, I think a thank you would be fitting. I cannot believe I step away for 5 minutes, and half of you idiots manage to get yourselves up international shit’s creek.” Fury said, shaking his head.

A chorus of ‘thank you’s’ filled the room from each of them, some accompanied by a chuckle.

“Tut tut, you mention thank you’s and you’re not even gonna point me out smiles?” Tony chirped up, leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk, unable to pass up an opportunity as good as this. The glare Fury shot at him was so, so worth it.

“Fair call. Without you, we’d all still be on the run, wouldn’t we?” Nat spoke up, not bothering to hide the genuine joy on her face knowing that he’d helped them. Tony partially froze up, before recollecting himself and shooting her back a smile.

“Well, it wasn’t just my call. Spoke to the others, was a unanimous yes from the fellows back home.” Tony explained. 

I mean really, even if he didn’t want them back (which, he wouldn’t lie, a big part of him was definitely still hesitant) he was far outvoted. 

“Tony… thank you .” Steve spoke, genuine gratitude dripping from his voice. Tony smiled back at him awkwardly, unable to maintain eye contact with him for long.

“I mean.. you’d do the same for me. Besides, I.. didn’t exactly make all the best calls either.” Tony stated matter of factly, just before the silence started getting awkward. 

Steve shot him a glance and a nod, and Tony knew he understood. Just because he was helping them here, he wasn’t forgiven. And.. he seemed okay with that.

That lifted a weight off of his shoulders, he hadn’t even realized how nervous he’d been to see Steve’s response to the lingering damage still between them.

Pepper turned and smiled at him, and it gave him the confidence to continue. So he turned his attention to the group as a whole, trying not to linger on Barnes or Rogers for too long, and continued.

“We’ve.. listen, I’m not gonna lie to you, I really don’t know how to approach this yet. But, I don’t want you lot stuck on the run any longer.” He started.

“Things aren’t going to be how they were. At least not to begin with, potentially not ever. But after everything we’ve been through, the sacrifices we’ve all made.. I think it deserves at least a shot, right?” He said with a genuine albeit apprehensive smile.

“Alright, now before any of you get all emotional on me-“ Tony started to continue, only to be cut off by the almost panicked voice of Friday taking over the room.

“Boss, something’s happened..”

Tony shared a worried glance with Pepper, all attention on his watch, unaware of the worried glances the rest of the group were giving him.

“Fri, what’s up?” Tony spoke cautiously, panic sitting at the bottom of his stomach.

“The tracking device in Peter’s suit has been shut down.”

No. 

No, no, no . Not him, fuck, not Peter. 

Out of all of the avengers, every possible emergency why was it Peter? And why was it now?

“What do you mean it’s been disabled?” 

“It appears to have been broken in combat.” Friday explained. 

If that was all there was to it, she wouldn’t have altered him. Something else was wrong. He could hear Pepper and Natasha gently calling out his name, but he couldn’t focus on anything aside from how tight he was holding Pepper’s hand and the panic rising in his chest.

“What else, what aren’t you telling me?” Tony spoke quickly, urging the A.I to continue. If.. no, he couldn’t be.

“He’s been MIA for the past 3 hours.” 

Tony was out the door as soon as Friday said missing.

He didn’t hesitate, knowing Pepper would handle everything with the others, the absolute godsend that she was. 

Fuck, he was hours away! Of course this had to happen outside of the city, the government would’ve thrown a hissy fit if it wasn’t.

“Fri can you give me anything else?!” Tony shouted, trying not to let the rising panic start drowning him.

“You’re on the fastest track back to his last known location right now, with an ETA of 2.3 hours.” 

Tony swore under his breath.

“Rhodey?” 

“About 3 hours away.”

“Contact him.”

“Already done boss. Miss Pott’s request.” A smile fought its way through the overwhelming fear threatening to overtake him. God, what did he do to deserve her?

“Do the police know?” He asked, maybe someone could do something while he made his way back.

“They’ve heard about Spiderman possibly being in danger, but nothing has happened because of it.” She responded sadly.

It was probably because he’s a ‘vigilante’. The thought made him furious. He did more for the area he was protecting than the cops were capable of, the least they could do was help him when he was in potentially life threatening danger.

Tony hesitated before asking.

“Do you know what happened to him?” To his dismay Friday had an answer.

“He was engaged in another fight with Doctor Octopus.” 

Tony snarled.

“That bastard again ?! What is his problem with Peter, this is like the fourth time!” Tony spat, fury overtaking the terror that was threatening to overpower him.

“I’ve connected to Karen’s interface. She’s been rendered unoperational from the damage. However, from the records backed up to the server, it seems that this is far from just the fourth time he’s fought with him.”

Tony felt the blood drain from his face. 

…what?

“Footage of Spiderman dealing with Doctor Octopus goes as far back as a year and a half, shortly after you returned the suit to him. But from what I can see, they’d likely been encountering one another before you gave him the upgraded suit to begin with.”

Tony could swear the interface on his suit went from blue to red.

Otto Octavius, once a highly renowned and brilliant scientist turned into an infamous supervillain named Doctor Octopus. 

He’d met the man years ago. They’d gone to MIT together. 

They’d worked together back then, on school assigned projects. Octavius was the only other person in the class that came close to matching Tony’s smarts.

Fuck, back then he’d actually had a go at Tony for his work dealing weapons. Insisted that as smart as he was, surely he could use his intelligence for a better purpose. That he had a duty to try and help people.

Tony just scoffed at him, foolishly believing his dream had no way to become a reality. To create clean, sustainable energy to share with the world.

Tony had insisted he was helping people, and things between them spiralled out of control until the bridge was burnt completely.

To think he’d been right back then, it had taken Tony far, far too long to see that. But then he dead. And he beat Octavius at his own game.

The miniaturised arc reactor. 

Something inside of Octavius snapped when he learnt about it, apparently. His life’s work that only resulted in failure after failure, that Tony had accomplished while trapped in a cave kidnapped by terrorists. 

He was jealous of his success, and was hellbent on trying to prove he could still make his invention work. Not only that, but that it would be better than his. That’s as far as he’d heard on the matter.

Doc Ock had an issue with Tony, with Iron Man. And instead of confronting him directly, he was taking it out on Spiderman. The prick had probably made it personal against him as well.

He’d caught on at some point that his suit was made with Stark Tech, and Peter had swung into the tower that night with his arm dislocated and his leg broken. Tony still didn’t understand how he made it there in the first place.

He’d never had the balls to confront Tony directly, so instead he went after his ward.

And this has been going on for years? Why didn’t Peter tell him?!

That first night Tony practically had to drag the information out of him, and Peter had insisted, promised that he could handle it. That this was just on him being run down and nothing more, that it wasn’t a problem Tony needed to worry about.

And he believed him.

He trusted that he could handle things. Tony knew he was eager to prove his strength and his worth as an avenger in training, so he reluctantly left him to his own devices. He wanted to give him that chance.

Almost every time he’d been brought back into the tower badly injured, it was because of Octavius. 

Every time, Tony had insisted that Peter didn’t need to handle this alone, while Peter insisted that he could. And Tony never questioned him.

Fuck, why did he never push it further? Why did he not step in when Peter was clearly in over his head?

If this had been going on for so long, there was bound to be footage out there. Why the fuck hadn’t he thought to investigate this further?

Tony had told him the last time they had a conversation about the Doctor, that if this happened again Tony would be stepping in. That he wouldn’t let Peter deal with a threat like this alone, that he didn’t need to deal with it alone.

But this time, he might be too late. And the thought of that terrified him.

If this had been going on for so long, then there clearly was some truth to Peter insisting he could handle things. But he’s so new to this, to fighting villains, people that genuinely want you dead. And that is so much more dangerous with a man as smart as Otto.

He didn’t- doesn’t understand how quickly things can change, just how fast an enemy you thought you knew how to deal with can turn the tides of a fight and get the upper hand on you.

There’s a reason the Avengers fight as a team.

And now Tony didn’t know where he was. It was more than likely that no one did.

Every option that raced through his head left him feeling sick. Because his tech is some of the best there is. If both the tracker and Karen were offline, it means they were severely damaged. And if the suit was, Peter was too. 

The most likely scenarios were that he was knocked out unconscious somewhere, probably bleeding out, or that the Octopus won. And he was either in his clutches, his current whereabouts unknown, or he’d already-

No. Nonononono he couldn’t be.

“Fri, were Peter’s vitals stable when Karen was sent offline?”

“He’d sustained a few significant injuries, but was still fighting and capable.”

Significant injuries?

He was afraid to ask, but he forced the question out anyways. He had to know.

“What was the last bit of sustained damage the suit recorded?”

“A direct blow to the head from the end of one of the arms.”

That.

That could kill someone.

If that was him, he’d probably be dead .

The only thing keeping him sane was Peter’s enhanced healing and strength. If that wasn’t enough, he..

No.

It had to be enough, it had to. He couldn’t lose him, he couldn’t lose his spiderling.

“Give- give me an ETA.” He said, barely forced out as a whisper.

“2.5 hours.”

“Drop it to two.” He ordered, and he felt the strength of the repulsors at his hands and feet increase. 

“Start gathering everything you can on Otto Octavius and Doctor Octopus.” He ordered.

“Already on it boss. Everything will be ready by the time we arrive.” That made his frown waver and broke through how afraid he was, even if just for a brief moment.

Tony let out a shaky breath and focused on the path in front of him.

“Thanks Fri.”

He hoped, was practically praying that he wouldn’t be too late.