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Chapter Text

It goes to figure that the first time Peter meets an avenger that doesn't have the urgent need to cart him halfway around the world and change his life forever within the first five minutes of meeting him that he be soaking wet and half frozen to death.

Peter had come in through the elevator, a rare occurrence these days to Happy's utter delight (note the sarcasm) and run straight into the Natasha Romanov. 

Peter toppled backwards, eyes widening as small drops of water were flung everywhere from the sharp movement, a speckle of dirty water hitting her in the face. The Russian Spy had straightened, looking down at the boy as he scrambled up and desperately sputtered out, "I'm so so sorry, oh my gosh I cannot believe this is happening to me, I am so sorry. Mj is going to kill me, I just almost mauled her idol. Would you like to hit me or something, I would thank you, I'm so sorry oh my god-"

Peter kept bouncing, apologizing with an eagerness that only reared it's head when he was really tired, trying to shake off the cold that seemed to cling to him like a second skin.

Natasha shook her head, effectively cutting off the teen as he bounced in place, bits of water flying from his wet hair, lips starting to turn blue slightly.

The spy opened her mouth to question him, most likely about his being on Tony's personal apartment floor, and Peter cut her off before she could. Peter cut off freaking Natasha Romanoff.

"Is it cold in here, it so freaking cold in here. I meant to get a towel and maybe a blanket, you are the Black Widow."

Peter's eyes were wide, taking the Spy in as his mind raced, ignoring FRIDAY in the background letting him know that Tony had been alerted of his arrival and whereabouts. That would be a shitshow, Tony coming in while she murdered him for getting water on her and then cutting her off.

The spy opened her mouth, probably to ask a question, but everything was slightly murky for Peter, sounds swimming in and out of focus as he shivered violently, bouncing up and down to keep himself moving.

Natasha was talking to him, that he could tell. Natasha fucking Romanov was talking to him, lips moving quickly as her voice continued in a steady stream, the sounds of the words too murky to make out, but the sound of her voice quite nice. Natasha Romanov was talking to him and he wasn't listening.

A loud beeping sound behind Peter signifies the elevator opening, someone exiting and the sound of their heartbeat oddly familiar and the chill that had been settling in his bones slowly for that last few minutes abated for a moment and Peter got a glimpse of Natasha's eyes widening before he fell forward, his blood chilling in his veins and freezing his bones into immovability, barely able to avoid hitting the ground, instead careening into Black Widow and almost bringing them both to the floor.

"Well shit."

Tony was there suddenly, though Peter could not remember him being there, "Kid? Jeez you're freezing."

Peter nodded and ignored the near violent shiver racing through his body, "Did I mention it was cold."

His position was shifted and he heard a slightly freaked out voice say, "I'll go make some hot chocolate."

When Peter woke up to the steady beating of the heart monitor that was starting to become more common than his alarm going off in the morning, he groaned, not bothering to open his eyes as he shifted toward the direction he could hear Tony was in and mumbled, "What'd I do this time?"

Tony snorted, coming closer to Peter as he said, "Fainted in front of Natasha Romanov, who is never going to let you live it down."

Peter groaned again, turning away from Tony in favor of shoving his face into the scratchy pillow, the coarse material like sandpaper against his skin, but more welcome then the memories of the last few minutes before fainting where he had had what was undoubtedly the most embarrassing conversation of his life, with a woman who could crush him.

"Mj is never going to let me live this one down now is she?"

Tony laughed this time, shaking his head at the boy in Peter's peripheral vision, "Yes of course, lets not worry about you almost freezing to death because you couldn't thermoregulate, that makes sense."

Peter shook his head at the utter inability the man had to let him deflect, the hypocrisy startling, "How long was I out?"

Tony grinned, "Less than an hour," he held out a mug from his room, not something that DUM-E made, though the color was slightly reminiscent of motor oil, "Nat made you hot chocolate."

Peter took the cup in awe, looking down at the liquid as if it were gold, "God, I cannot believe the first time I'm meeting a real avenger outside of battle, I collapse on top of them and almost freeze to death."

Tony put his hands up, grin still firmly on his face, though he was trying to mask it with a faux offended expression, "Do I not count as a real avenger."

Peter leveled a deadpan look at the man, "You act like a toddler on steroids and half the time can't spend more than fifteen minutes on one thing because, and I quote, 'stability in life is boring and I'd rather die than grow comfortable with normality' which his, by the way, very poetic, did you read it off of an angsty teen on tumbler? "

Tony paused for a moment before deciding he probably didn't want to pursue whatever the fuck tumbler was, "But I'm smart?"

Peter grinned, "Yes Tony, you are smart, probably the best avenger."

Tony shook his head, hands clasping behind his back, "Nat's better than me."

Peter sat up, ignoring the man in favor of saying insistently, "You are amazing and a great role model," Peter knew that Tony was trying his hardest to deflect the conversation away from himself, but he needed the man to know that he was amazing, self deprecating humor aside.

Tony smiled a bit, a different one from his press smile, the small unintentional uplifting of his lips that he did whenever Peter handed him something in the lab without being asked, or solved a problem Tony had been struggling with, or did something so stupid it was funny.

The man ruffled his head before slinging an arm around his shoulder, "Thanks Pete," resting his head on top of Peter's head.

There was a clattering sound at the doorway, the Black Widow standing in the doorway, looking between the two boys sitting on the bed in feigned disinterest that was ruined by the wideness of her eyes, a book laying on the floor from where she dropped it, "You are hugging him?" she said simply, though it sounded almost accusatory.

Tony, for his part, was not embarrassed in the slightest, sticking his chin up in the air, "Yeah and?"

The red-haired woman in the doorway paled slightly, clearing her throat as she picked the book up from the ground and left, "Carry on then."

Peter looked over at Tony in surprise when the man started shaking against him, his body rocking the bed as he aggressively trembled, fist over his mouth to unsuccessfully cover the wide smile spreading across his face.

"What?"

Tony gave up on trying to mask his amusement, laughing aloud before saying, "Kid, you just scared Nat."

Peter wrinkled his brow in confusion, "I what?"

Tony just replied with laughter.

Chapter Text

Peter had decided that he was just going to block the rest of the world out for the day and take a metal break. 

He didn't have a lab day scheduled or any sort of afterschool club and his patrol had ended early on the count of the fact that Tuesdays were slow sometimes, which would be good for anyone else. He planned to go out again later after the sun went down, but for now he was going to plug his noise cancelling earbuds into his ears, blast music, and be a teenager with a skateboard in New York City.

Queens had a great skatepark a short walk from May's apartment and he spent the ride there blasting music and ignoring dirty looks he got from pedestrians when he flew by them, staying out of people's way.

His converse, black and dirty as they were, stuck right to the skateboard, on shoe squeaking in protest every once in a while when it pushed against the concrete in a weird angle as he propelled himself along.

The world started slowly falling away a he made it to the skate park, heading straight for a bowl and not hesitating before jumping straight in, letting the rushing air and focus required to not wipe him out flood away the rest of his thoughts. 

He might have been a little reckless, pushing a little hard on some jumps and going slightly higher than a boy his size should be able to get into the air without serious strength, but the skate park was empty and of the three people there, none of them seemed like they were debating the laws of physics that the boy in the bowl was defying.

When the sun had begun to sink into the sky and not even wiping out twice could keep the anxious thoughts at bay about stopping crime that was happening because he wasn't patrolling, the disappointment of his aunt when she saw how cut up his knees were, and the thought of going back to life where people disliked him at school and he was a failure at being a superhero and the internship probably ending soon made him want to curl up on the ground and turn the music up louder.

He didn't curl up, but he did turn the music up louder, so he honestly couldn't be blamed for being in his own head. 

Someone was yelling behind him, the air rushing around Peter as he pushed himself on his skateboard back to May's apartment, Peter taking an earbud out of his ear as he turned his sixth sense dinging at the back of his neck, the rush of the world returning through honking horns and yelling and laughing as-

"Watch out! Watch-"

The car hit him with the background sound of screeching breaks and panicked yells.

Don't close your eyes Peter, just keep breathing.

Later people would tell him that it had been a red light the car had run, Peter too distracted to notice until it was too late.

Don't close your eyes Peter you can't rest until you stop bleeding.

The guy died on impact, ironic isn't it, they'd say, that the man who had almost killed a boy breaking the law got himself killed by the teenage boy who happened to be enhanced. The odds.

Don't slip away Peter, one breath in and out and repeat.

Someone had called 911, but many people had gotten out their phones, it was the age of technology.

Peter for hells sake, you are not dying on this dirty blood crusted road, that is not the way Spiderman goes out.

There was someone in the crowd who was an off duty doctor, he had run up and started doing emergency procedures on Peter they said. Peter's still alive because of him they said.

Breathe Peter, just one breath in and out and then again.

But Peter couldn't breathe.

Tony got the call while he was eating dinner, some instant macaroni that he had spent a good five minutes squinting at before resignedly getting up and making it himself, having just mixed the sodium filled cheese in and taken a single bite when his phone started buzzing along the table, ACDC Back In Black blaring through his speakers as Sam's face filled the screen, a deadpan expression on his face as he flipped off the camera.

Tony rolled his eyes at the Avenger's makeshift therapist/friend, swiping the answer button and bringing the phone back to his ear as he took a bite of his macaroni.

"This really better be important Sammy, I thought you were at the grocery store, could it not have waited until you got to the compound?"

Because of course all the rogue avengers lived at the compound, a requirement for the accords that were still being debated over, making Tony's ability for day to day function rapidly decline.

"What was the name of your intern again?"

Because of course all the rogue avengers knew Tony had a personal intern that he was oddly attached to, though Nat was the only one that had actually met him.

"What is the relevance of that to this conversation?"

"It's Peter right? Is his last name Parker?"

Tony sat up straighter, "Sam, have you been looking into my intern?"

The ex-hero sounded almost offended, "No, there's a boy all over social media that just got hit by a car, they say his name is Peter Parker. I'm at the scene right now, saw it happen, the ambulance just got here and I was helping them, he doesn't look to hot Tony."

God this kid was going to give him a heart attack.

"Okay, okay," Tony looked around taking stock as he pressed his watch's third button, summoning a suit to him as he walked to the balcony, "I'll be there soon."

And Tony hung up.

"Friday reroute that ambulance to Stark medbay, have a medical team ready. God this fucking kid."

The suit was waiting for him on the balcony, Tony shooting away before the faceplate was fully closed, his GPS plotting a course for the rerouted ambulance and taking him there as Tony began searching through civilian posted videos and video cams to get an idea of what had happened and how bad the accident really was.

It was bad.

Peter was crossing the crosswalk, skateboard tucked against his side as his head bobbed along to the music streaming in his headphones, his feet shuffling in the way they always did after he went skating, like he wasn't used to the level and gravity change, wanting to keep gliding and confused why he wasn't. Tony always found it adorable. 

The car had come up quickly, almost too fast to track, a man on the side of the road yelling at Peter, making the boy turn toward him and away from the car speeding dangerously toward him, stopping in the middle of the road, the car hitting him mid turn, the spiderboy flying through the air in a way that was inhumanly possible, hitting the ground and rolling in a skid so far that Tony had to switch cams to see where he ended, people already beginning to crowd around.

He easily identified Sam, the man running forward and shifting the boy on his back, taking his pulse and breath before panickily putting the boy on his side, blood dribbling out his mouth.

The ex-pararescue took off his belt, molding it into a makeshift tourniquet that he slid onto the boy's bloody leg, looking under his eyelids and shifting to let the sun reflect on the boy's pupils, cradling the boy's head as he took stock of the bloody gash on the back before rushing to switch positions, Tony realizing with slowly spreading horror that he was beginning to do compressions above his heart, the song stayin' alive popping into his mind as Sam did it to the beat.

 Tony could see the ambulance now, speeding through the streets with it's siren on as Tony flew up to it, the back door opening and Sam holding a hand out for Tony to grab onto.

Tony got in, sending the suit back to the compound as he rushed over to where two doctors were working on Peter, Sam protesting half-heartedly behind him as Tony took stock of his kid, laying limp with closed eyes, a large gash on his leg that Tony could see was beginning to slowly stitch back together on his own, mild bruising on his chest from where Sam had done CPR, his shirt cut open to reveal it, and a concerning gash taking up his side, bruising beginning around it as blood pooled in a very good representation of Tony's fading sanity.

The ride was twenty minutes long, Tony hovering the whole time before they pulled up and Cho's team took over, Tony trembling as he raced after them only to be shut out, Sam staying behind, most likely to sort out NDAs with the medical team.

Logically, Tony knew that the kid had gotten worse done to him, but that did nothing to staunch the worry of Peter getting hit by a freaking car.

The operating, because apparently the boy needed emergency surgery, took the worse part of two hours, it ending with a tired surgeon coming out to tell Tony there would be no harm done in going in to see the boy.

Peter of course, was one to defy odds, and woke up almost ten minutes after Tony went in, even though the elephant killer dose of morphine he was given should have kept him through the night all the same (they really should start testing Peter's metabolism so that they could accurately make a painkiller and anesthesia that would actually work on this kid.)

The boy kept insisting he was fine, and though the emergency skin graft seemed to have worked and healed faster than normal, he still wasn't fully healed, his eyes containing a glassy sheen that was partly the metabolizing anesthesia and party his still healing concussion. 

Around midnight though, the doctor decided he could be discharged, seeing as the boy refused to so much as touch the medbay bed in protest of his 'just peachy' wellbeing and it was a collective agreement between all the adults in the situation that the boy needed rest.

Peter took being discharged as a victory and willingly went to bed, though it was mostly just because Tony knew he was spending conscious effort on not keeling over

The next morning when Peter woke up in his designated room at the compound, he got up, ignoring the slight dizziness that accompanied the motion, and made his way down to the communal kitchen that Friday told him Tony was in.

Tony was in the kitchen, as was Sam Wilson, who Peter had been told of his involvement in the aftermath of the crash, and the man promptly dropped the place he was washing in the sink when he saw him, face going white as he stared at the boy like he was a ghost.

Peter gave Tony a confused look at the other man's actions, but the mechanic just shrugged.

"You got hit by a car yesterday."

The words were tight and disbelieving, as if Sam was considering whether or not he actually hallucinated the whole thing or not.

That seemed to remind Tony of something, "Oh! No school today for you mister, you are under strict orders to rest."

Peter made a disgruntled face, beginning to protest and being immediately shot down, "Nope, I don't want to hear it, not a peep from the peanut gallery thank you very much."

Peter groaned, pouting as he slipped onto one of the kitchen stools that were by the counter, taking the plate Tony handed to him.

It was at that moment that Sam Wilson fainted.

Chapter Text

Peter was skateboarding again, listening to a playlist that Mj had made him to quote unquote "Get him pumped up for eating white rich men," and this time was staying far away from streets if he could, keeping one earbud out of his ear even if it meant that the city sounds flooded into the music and melded them together, the sounds almost overwhelming, but Peter was talented at ignoring noise.

He deserved a bit of tuning out the world, the final bell still ringing in his ears from when school ended fifteen minutes ago, Peter still nowhere close to the subway station that would take him home, but finally done with all his finals.

The tests had been grueling, Peter having been studying for weeks out of an anxious need to do perfectly, versed with one of his friend's "if I fail I die" mentality, it brought a whole world of gifted child problems.

The things was, Peter was a gifted child, he had always been. When he was in first grade he was reading on a fifth grade level, doodling harder equations on the back of his timed multiplication tests in second grade that he always seemed to have no trouble with, versed with his classmates anger at being unable to remember fact families, complaining to his parents, and then Uncle Ben and Aunt May about being bored in class. He got a library card in third grade and spent most of the year burning through high school textbooks, absorbing the information like a sponge and always thirsty for more. Peter got internet access in fourth grade, through a hand-me-down computer that had found it's way into the apartment from Uncle Ben's job, spending his afternoons reading articles about cell formation and nuclear therapy and gamma radiation (shoutout to Bruce Banner for absolutely being child Peter's first brilliant role model that could also turn into a giant green monster and crush things.) By fifth grade his school had finally caught on to him being advanced, putting him in honors classes and giving him the resources to thrive, Peter compacting all his classes so that freshman year of highschool, he started out with honors pre-AP Algebra II, choosing to take all honors classes and thoroughly enjoying being a nerd, beginning to get exposed to the horror stories of naturally brilliant kids burning out, sometimes even flunking out of highschool. 

Peter wasn't burning out, but between being Spiderman and Decathlon, and interning at Stark Industries more than three times a week and sometimes staying over for group training exercises (as spiderman) on the weekends, he didn't have time for the thirst of knowledge that was always burning somewhere deep inside of him, his grades average and no longer the smartest person in the class, which was never the expectation, but it still felt like failure nonetheless. 

It wasn't that Peter was a competitive academic, though he did hold the highest GPA and overall grade in his grade and even ranked among seniors with his grades, but he just had a sense of normal, and being the smartest person in the room was his normal, a normal that was being challenged by working with Tony Stark, but in a way that Peter loved, that thirst for knowledge being slightly satiated whenever the man buckled down and taught him something new, that little voice in him mind that was constantly droning that he was a stupid failure quieting for a while as the new information spread throughout his veins like a calming drug.

He turned the music up in his ears by just a notch, the change in volume taking the edge off of his raging thoughts as he picked up his skateboard waiting a healthy distance from the street before completely taking out the buds to cross the street, putting them back in and jumping back on his board when he had made it to the other side.

The Queens public library became visible as Peter turned around the corner, a small part of him sighing, home, it seemed to call, I am back.

This place had been his refuge in grade school, somewhere to learn without his classmates hating him for asking questions and asking to know more, not that Peter ever asked for extra homework (he wasn't cruel) no matter how much he sometimes wanted to know more.

May had brought up casually the other day that she was going to cancel the library card because it had to be renewed soon and Peter barely even used it anymore. Wild panic had struck through the boy, a feeling akin to guilt settling in his bones at his disappointment in himself, that voice in his mind growing louder, stupid stupid stupid, it chanted, you are nothing without your brain. And you are dumber and dumber by the day. 

Peter had begged her not to, and then proceeded to practically live in the library for a week to study for finals, the guilt never truly washing away from where it had settled deep in his bones.

Peter left his skateboard in the entrance room, hiding behind two crates just in case, though the library hadn't failed him yet, and returned the five books he had checked out two days before, scanning the shelves and picking out a few college textbooks to read over the weekend, though it was one at the tower, so that he could read while he had downtime, convinced that he just needed to know a little more, be just a little smarter.

He checked out the books and began skateboarding back to May's apartment where Happy was supposed to pick up the boy after he packed his bag, something Peter had done that morning in anticipation of stopping by the library before getting back to the apartment.

The backpack slightly offset the weight of the boy, just enough to make him slightly unbalanced and consistently having to compensate for the unusual and added weight, taking a spill around the block and resolving to walk the rest of the way to the apartment when his head spun just by standing up, making a conscious effort to put one foot in front of the other.

Really, he should have learned how to balance weight by now, especially because he only took up skateboarding after the bite, his enhanced senses practically making him a master first try with how much he flipped around the city.

He shot a text to Ned as he walked into the lobby, getting into the special elevator that only top clearance could access and pointed ignoring the looks from business people as a teenager with a beat-up skateboard got into it, smiling at FRIDAY's greeting and saying hello back. He took the time in the elevator to turn off his music, putting away his earbuds and wincing at the mechanics of the elevator moving him upwards that he had to concentrate to tune out. 

He hated that, the small moment after he took off the music blaring into his ears and was exposed to the outside sounds that he forgot he had to concentrate to tune out, something that he didn't even realize he did sometimes until he didn't have to and he felt like a wrung out rag, almost sagging with weariness.

The elevator dinged, opening to the communal area where he could hear Tony and someone else in the living room, their murmuring voice familiar to Peter, but not recognizable like most of the avengers that Peter hadn't met personally.

Peter walked into the room, wincing at the bright light streaming from the floor to ceiling windows even though he would usually be mesmerized and waving awkwardly at war machine (the fucking War Machine) from where he stood behind the couch.

Tony turned, smiling at Peter, "Hey Peter, this is my friend Rhodey, the one I've been telling you about."

Even through the haze that had been sinking slowly into his brain since Peter fell off his skateboard and knocked his head, he could recognize that this was probably the best moment of his entire life thus far, "Hi Mr. Iron Patriot sir, it is so cool to meet you, I-"

Tony cut him off before Peter could begin to ramble, which in retrospect was very nice of him, "Rhodes, this is the kid."

His friend shot Tony a bewildered look, glancing between Tony and Peter, saying very slowly, "The kid...?"

Tony nodded with a smile as Peter sat down on the couch at his insistence, groaning when the man ruffled his already windswept and probably resemblant to a rat's home.

The man next to him suddenly went very still from where his hand had been on top of Peter's head, fingers feeling out as Peter winced, scooting away to get rid of the tingling pain that the touch brought him.

Tony grabbed his chin, bringing his head towards him as he looked between his eyes, Peter trying to track the movement and slightly failing as he protested, "Hey, what's up, you going crazy finally?"

"Did you get a concussion?"

Peter blinked at the abrupt question, trying to focus on Tony's face and mostly doing it, "Uhm, no?"

Tony rolled his eyes, "Yeah sure."

Peter blinked again as the man moved off the couch, standing up to get a better look at the back of Peter's head, the movement faster than Peter could track, though Tony wasn't moving any faster than he usually did.

The Iron Patriot-Rhodey- balked, "Wait, the kid is hurt? What the hell?"

Tony and Peter ignored him, Peter trying to bat away Tony's hands which had once again found their way into his hair and were searching for the bump on his head, "Seriously Tony I'm fine, I just hit my head a little..."

The older man scoffed, still trying to find the bump and batting Peter's hands out the way, "Sure, knowing you you got hit by a crowbar last night and neglected to tell me even though Karen should have."

Peter wrinkled his face, he had gotten thrown backwards into a wall last night and he did remember hitting his head, somewhere around the same place he hit his head today, but it wasn't that big of a deal, as Peter had demonstrated by walking in a mostly straight line for Karen so that she wouldn't alert Tony.

"It's seriously not a big deal, it'll heal."

Tony groaned in frustration, exclaiming, "You have a concussion!"

Peter shrugged, considering the idea that he might, "Yeah but like, a minor one, it's not bad."

The Iron Patriot, whom Peter had forgotten was still there- stood from the couch, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I cannot sit here silently anymore. You," he said, pointing accusingly at Tony, "have a lot more explaining to do than just 'the kid' and you," he said, turning to Peter and subjecting the boy with what Tony had described in detail as the 'I cannot believe that I even have to say this, it should be common sense,' "definately have problems if you think that a concussion, no matter how minor, is fine. We are talking about brain damage here."

Brain damage.

Peter sucked in a sharp breath as the man said it. 

Sure, he had ready about how people that played contact sports like football formed mental problems later in life because of previous head trauma, but with his speedy healing he hadn't really thought about how that process could be sped up as well. For all Peter knew, he could wake up tomorrow morning and have to move down a few grades because he had suddenly forgotten everything he had learned.

The though made Peter was to break down crying, distantly aware of the Iron Patriot scolding Tony about being a responsible adult and how karma from Tony's college days was now being forced upon Rhodey because Tony couldn't deal with things seriously, though from his tone, Peter could tell he was just joking and also mildly freaked out.

Tony shrugged, "It's fine, he's Spiderman, he really is right when he says that it will heal," he cut an annoyed look at Peter, "but that doesn't make it less serious, nor does it make it okay for him to not tell me."

Peter smiled sheepishly, "I planned to I just...forgot?"

Tony groaned in exasperation as Mr. Rhodey yelped, "Spiderman is a kid? What the fuck!"

"Seriously Mr. Stark, I've been thrown off a plane and had buildings collapse on me, it's just a concussion."

"Tony for the love of fucking god, what the hell!"

The mentioned man turning accusingly at Peter, "Buildings? In the plural?"

Peter's eyes widened, "I'm going to go to medical and get my head checked out."

He escaped out the elevator with Tony at his back yelling that the conversation was not over and Mr. Rhodey mumbling about having to take headache medication before hanging out with the kid and Tony together again, Peter stifling a laugh as the man mumbled, "These two are going to give me a fucking heart condition."

"Great, when we both are dying from our heart condition we can share a room!"

"Tony, no."

"Tony yes."

Chapter Text

Summer break was a different kind of personal hell for overachievers.

Peter had somehow doubled his time at Stark Industries, his days filled with chemical equations and blowing things up, doing regular things with the man too, like watching movies and cooking dinner together, talking about Spiderman and also about Peter.

His patrol curfew was later now, Peter starting earlier and ending later, collapsing in bed for an hour or two before nightmares or restlessness propelled him into the next day, finding himself more often than not up at five or six in the morning and walking around New York, finding new places and secret clubs and meeting people.

All in all a great summer.

It was a Monday now, Peter having spent until three in the morning out on patrol before getting up at five and walking out to a new abandoned building he had found a few days ago, sitting on the roof and watching the sun rise to get a start on his day.

He wandered around for a while before ending up at Stark Industries around nine, FRIDAY taking Peter straight to where Mr. Stark was, in the communal room.

It was no longer an uncommon occurrence for Pepper to wake up to Tony and Peter in the kitchen or living room in the morning, laughing over pancakes or heatedly debating the pros and cons of different treatments and experiments top scientists had published, but when Peter walked in that morning and heard more than Tony in the living room, he was understandably confused.

He walked into the living room, heart jumping into his throat as he came face to face with almost half the avengers.

"Jeez Mr. Stark," he said, wide eyes darting around the room as he tried to take it all in, "You could have said we were having visitors."

Clint Barton cursed, falling off where he had been perched on the back of the black couch, twisting on the ground to see Peter as the boy's eyes immediately went to where Steve fucking Rogers was taking the opportunity of distraction to start sweeping together the papers thrown haphazardly around the coffee table, Peter's enhanced sight being able to make out blueprints to somewhere, a mission statement.

Peter took stock of the people in the room, consisting of a Steve Rogers who was sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table, Thor (Thor!!!) who was lounged across a whole couch, Clint Barton who was squirming around on the floor as he tried to find a comfortable position and soothe the forming bruises from falling off the back of the couch, Tony laying in a loveseat and dangling his legs over one end, his head resting on the other side, Natasha Romanov sitting in another armchair (the comfier one) her legs curls underneath her as she inspected her nails with perfected disinterest.

The avengers all stared at Peter as he shifted uncomfortably, casting a sheepish and longing look at Tony.

The mentor thankfully picked up the hint, bringing the attention to himself as he spoke up, "Sorry Pete, but putting all of you on the spot by having you show up is so much better," he said in reply to Peter's earlier comment.

Clint spoke up from the ground, "Who the fuck is this again?"

"Language."

The entire room froze, breathing even too loud in this situation as everyone looked at Tony Stark, whose every other word was a curse, and had just reprimanded Clint for cursing.

Tony shrugged at the slightly horrified looks people were giving him, gesturing to Peter, "Young ears."

Mr. Rogers stood, grunting as he pushed himself up into a standing position with his legs, hands on his knees that were popping in protest from having been sat on the ground for so long, "I believe introductions are in order?"

Mr. Stark spoke up, "Oh, yeah, Peter?"

The look the mechanic was giving him was almost so obvious Peter might have not even needed to say anything, it obvious from the way the man was looking at him that he didn't have to tell the people in the room that he was Spiderman.

"I'm Peter, Peter Parker, Tony's personal intern."

Natasha looked up from her nails with a raised eyebrow, Clint shouting "Bullshit!"

Tony was smirking from his sideways position on the loveseat, twisting his head to the side to lay it down and be able to keep everyone in his sight, "He's telling the truth."

Steve looked at Tony questioningly, "But you hate kids."

"True."

"And people in your lab."

"Correct."

"And Peter is a kid."

"I'm a teenager."

"You're a baby Underoos face it, it's the height."

"Shut up I'm still growing."

Clint jumped up from the ground, "Let's get Thor's opinion."

Steve looked at him weirdly, "He's sitting right there, he would have chimed in if he-"

"Thor wake up."

Thor, who had indeed been sleeping, sat up almost blearily, "Yes Master Archer?"

Steve sighed dramatically, "Clint stop telling him to call you that, we were in the middle of a debreifing, why were you asleep."

Thor shrugged, unbothered by Steve's annoyance, "You have a very soothing voice Son of America."

Steve sent another annoyed look at Clint but otherwise brushed past the comment, "FRIDAY? How long has Tony had an intern."

FRIDAY sounded almost coy when she answered, undeniably amused, "Peter has been working with Mr. Stark in his lab for almost two years now."

Tony beamed at Peter, "Woah, no shit? FRIDAY when's our hiring day anniversary." 

FRIDAY answered and Tony shot Peter a smug look that had the boy dreading the day already.

Thor turned to Peter, "You are Stark's intern?"

Peter nodded dazedly, "Hi, I'm like your biggest fan."

Tony rolled onto the floor, clutching his heart like he had been wounded, "Offense, calling offense."

"Shut up Tony." The room said in tandem.

Tony sat up, "Well, this debriefing has been very boring, Pete, lab time?"

Peter smiled, "Sure, I need my biology book though, I have to bring it back to the library by tomorrow or it'll be overdue."

Peter looked around the room, spotting said book on the coffee table and moving to grab it, picking up Thor's hammer to grab the book and setting it back down on a pile of papers, turning back to Tony, "Ready."

The room stared back at him in slack jawed disbelief, Peter tilting his head to the side as he caught the looks, "What?"

Thor looked distressingly put out and simultaneously overjoyed, "You are worth or Mjollnir."

Peter blinked, "I- what?"

Thor pointed at the hammer, "You can pick it up."

Peter took a step back from it, "Oh shit, should I not have touched it? I'm sorry I just really needed my book and I would've forgotten about it and-"

Thor cut him off, repeating, "You can pick it up."

Peter frowned, slightly confused as he picked the hammer up with ease, flipping it around like a baton in one hand as he tilted his head, feeling extremely badass but probably looking stupid, "I can...yes?"

Clint fainted.

Chapter Text

In Peter's defense, he really didn't mean to get arrested.

He had been in the clear, changing in an inconspicuous alley and walking out, straight into a police officer who took one look at the bruises already forming on his face and the cuts from shrapnel that were scattered around his body and making the pretty obvious assumption that Peter was somehow involved in the bombing.

Thank god that his suit was now nanotech, able to fit in the bracelet on his wrist, because it would have been pretty hard to explain if the cops sound it while searching his backpack.

Peter had been taken down to the station, multiple officers questioning him about where he got the bomb, the type of bomb it was, and how he got out mostly unscathed. It seemed that everyone thought Peter was the guy who planted the little package of love, which was ironic when Peter thought about it. Spiderman? The city's protector? Planting bombs?

Peter sat calmly through the questions, having grown up with a human lie detector for an Aunt and, more recently, an AI who could rat him out whenever his pulse so much as changed a note during him talking. 

Sometimes it really sucked that Peter was honestly good at being a superhero, good enough that he made sure each civilian he evacuated from the now collapsed building was accounted for before he left, that they were all getting relief help from someone or other, making sure no children ran off and no adults tried to run back in. Because Peter was so good at his job, it made it really hard to seem like a bystander that had gotten out on his own, especially because all the bottom floors had been on fire for at least twenty minutes before the bomb went off and the only way to get the injuries Peter had would be to be inside the building when it exploded.

Now he was sitting in a interrogation room, the third officer sitting in front of him and talking casually, though Peter didn't answer to any of the man's prompts. The first thing Peter had done when he got there was boldly proclaim, "I am invoking my right to stay silent and my right to an attorney," and then Peter shut the fuck up.

Just like Mj taught him.

Peter was tracing the small crack in the table as the man in front of him droned on and on when the door flew open, practically off it's hinges as Tony himself stormed in, taking one look at Peter and saying, "Right, lets go."

The man jumped up, "You can't just take him, we are in the middle of questioning!"

Tony raised an eyebrow at the man, powerful indifference oozing from every particle of the man, "Have you arrested him?"

The police officer floundered, "Well, no but-"

"Then you have no right to hold him, you have been questioning him for three hours, if you haven't gotten anything from him now, I doubt you will anytime soon."

He turned to Peter, practically frog marching him out of the police station as he threw behind him, "You'll be hearing from my lawyers."

As soon as they got into the car and started moving, Tony reached over and promptly smacked Peter on his arm, Peter letting out a yelp of surprise for the hit he hadn't seen coming, something that was becoming increasingly annoying. When Peter got truly comfortable around a person, his sixth sense stopped reporting their every move, even when the action was violent.

"Jesus kid, scare the hell out of me why don't you?"

Peter blinked, looking over at the man who was staring at Peter in mild panic, "I'm...sorry?" He tried.

Tony waved a hand, brushing off the boy's apology, "You were late for lab time and when I asked FRIDAY where you were, she responded with 'at a police station holding cell' I was understandably worried."

Peter looked down at the floor of the car, taking in the empty water bottle that was rolling around on the floor with every turn Happy took, the black carpet practically pristine, the car's daily cleaning probably having something to do with it, the water probably from Tony on the ride there, the man having an awful of leaving his empty water bottles everywhere and making new ones when he forgot where he put the other ones. Peter had found one in the lab the other day that had coffee in it that was growing mold. Mold.

"Pete? What happened?"

Peter shrugged, "There was a bombing of an apartment building, I evacuated everyone and managed to somewhat contain the explosion, there was fire so it still blew up, but I disabled it before the bomb itself could detonate."

Tony nodded, already giving the boy a once over as he got out the car, the men both at the compound, "Any injuries?"

Peter shrugged, "Nothing bad," he elaborated when Tony gave him a slightly exasperated and annoyed looked, "All superficial from what I can tell, a few bruises and cuts but nothing life threatening."

Tony nodded sharply, "Okay, we are going to go to the lab and learn how to detonate any bomb that comes our way."

Peter smiled at the man's obvious worry and care for his wellbeing, not complaining once when they did it for the rest of the day, even when Tony went on a manic rant about how important it was that you mostly ignore the red wires always unless everything else points to that wire.

Chapter Text

The text had come in during third period history, his AP gov teacher giving him the dirtiest look known to man when Peter announced he needed to use the restroom, rolling his eyes as Peter turned in his test and scurried out the room, checking his phone when he got into the hall.

Irondad 
Kid, need Spiderman rn on evac duty, fighting is getting pretty heavy

Peter had worked with the avengers a few times before, somehow keeping his civilian identity a secret during missions even though Peter Parker had become a common sight in the communal areas of the compound, even playing mario cart with Captain America.

Ned almost fainted when Peter told him.

So it really shouldn't be a problem, Peter slipping out of school and going off to fight with the city's heroes. Except it was.

Peter got a sit-rep from Karen on his way over to the carnage, some villain trying to replicate a terrorist attack with robots that shot lasers and were twice the height of humans.

He accepted the invitation to the comms when Karen delightfully proclaimed it to him, the voices of the other avengers filtering through his left ear as he entered the fighting zone.

"Sam circle back around and cut off that flank from behind, Tony, follow him and get in as many shots as you can."

"Copy that."

"On it Capsicle."

"Hey Spiderman here, what can I do?"

"Kid you stay on the ground, Cap you keep him on the ground."

"Chill Tones, we aren't throwing him to the wolves."

"Please do, I love wolves."

"Kid shut up."

"Ok mom."

Steve cut through the banter, "Spidey, stay close to the ground, evac civilians and make sure nobody is hurt, take out a robot or two if you can, but stay away from the major fighting."

Peter sighed, pulling a little girl out of the way of a laser and throwing her up into the air with him as she giggled, "Boring," he drew out, bubbling his lips together in annoyance."

"I'll send your sorry ass right home if you don't stay away kid."

"Tones chill."

"Keep the kid out of destruction and maybe I will Cap."

"Staying on the ground, got it mom."

"Stop calling me mom on comms."

"Stop acting like my mother then."

"Both of you do your actual freaking jobs."

"Copy."

Peter got a family out of the way of a robot, shooting a taser web at it as he passed and watching in satisfaction as it short circuited and took out another robot before the fried wires inside of it stopped working altogether and it fell apart like a puppet with cut strings. 

He continued on, getting parents and children out of the way, following around the perimeter of the major fighting and getting buildings safely evacuated in preparation for when the fight possibly moved that way, getting strays out of buildings that had been hit during major battle.

It was when he came across a full building with partly destroyed foundation that he ran into trouble, the four story insurance building starting to slowly crumble.

He started at the top floor, making sure everyone was exiting and getting out safely before moving down a floor flooding into rooms and proclaiming they get out as soon as possible, making sure everyone was leaving, getting out almost hundreds and was doing a final sweep on the bottom floor when he felt the floor give, shooting out a web to shoot himself out the doors when he caught sight of a single straggler trying to run out, shooting a web towards her and propelling her out, throwing himself backwards and further into the building as it collapsed around him.

"-iderman? Spiderman? Spiderman come in, respond to the comms."

Peter blinked hazily, looking around and seizing up in fear almost immediately as memory of the situation crashed into him all at once, shock still keeping him mostly fine, but pain starting to darken the corners of his vision. 

"I'm here."

Tony breathed a sigh of relief, proclaiming loudly how he had scared him and that he needed to answer comms more quickly, it all going in one ear and out the other as Peter took stock of his surroundings.

He was in a small pocket of the crumbled building, probably somewhere in the middle, looking up to see a support beam sticking upward at a slanted angle, holding up a few tons of concrete a few feet above Peter, not even enough room for Peter to stretch an arm above his head and take his mask off.

He tilted his head up, unable to see his left leg, though from the pain that was radiating up his body through the shock and adreniline, he could assume that the leg buried in debris probably wasn't doing so hot. There was a large cut on his left arm and he was pretty sure his right wrist was shattered, but other than that, his appendage injuries were small. His ribs ached, one or two probably broken. Worst of all, a large and daunting piece of metal was sticking out of Peter's abdomen, something that definately hadn't been inside of him when he entered the building, blood already beginning to pool slightly even though the weapon wasn't even out, the slightly rusted metal sticking out just below his bellybutton frankly nauseating.

"Spidey?"

Peter tuned back into the comms, "Here."

"Where are you, we need evac on the road above us, the fight is moving West."

Peter looked around him, the debris of the building all around him and probably at least ten feet deep on any side, "I'm...incapacitated right now," he answered after a long pause.

Tony's voice turned sharp and suspicious immediately, "What happened?"

Peter floundered for words for a moment, something that he should probably look into because he never struggled with finding something to say, "A building collapsed, I got everyone out but I got caught in a few debris and can't get over there."

Cap's voice cut in, "Are you in immediate danger?"

Peter looked up at the metal support beam tilting precariously over him, the only thing keeping the whole building from crushing him.

"No."

"Alright we'll have someone come and pick you up when this wave of robots abate, Sam you're on evac duty for now."

"Ah man, I hate evac duty."

"Suck it up buttercup."

"Fuck, the robots can self destruct now, Tones I need your help!"

"Yeah get Tony, not me, leave me the boring stuff!"

Tony's voice cut over the two men, "Spidey you gonna be okay for a bit?"

Peter swallowed, looking around at his surroundings, "Yeah, I'll be fine."

He listened to the sound of the avengers fighting the robots for a long while, sometimes cutting across the banter when a sharp spike of pain make Peter almost pass out, wondering how much longer the group would be.

"Chill, Spiderkid, we haven't forgotten you." Sam's voice rang out over the roar of his background noise, the man fighting two robots at once.

"Spidey just relax, it'll probably be a hot minute," came Steve after grunting with the force of throwing his shield.

"Kid, take a nap, stop complaining about not having to fight, just let the big boys go to town," came Clint in a somewhat joking matter after Natasha benched him because of the three laser wounds the man had suffered.

Peter eventually stopped asking.

Peter had made peace with the fact that he would be in this space for a while, even adding some wonderful home décor, such as the webs connected to the support beams to keep it from breaking, immensely grateful for the tensile strength of it because it was probably the only thing keeping him from being crushed to death. He had also painted the area a lovely rust red color, really making the dark and dank space pop with life as his dried blood coated almost every surface.

People shouted commands over the comm line every now and then, the cheerful and friendly banter long gone now that the fighting had been ranched up a few notches, mostly just grunts and heavy breathing filling Peter's ears.

Scratching in his ear alerted him to people jumping on the main comm.

"Alright babies, let's wrap this shit up."

Peter nearly cried in relief at the sound of Tony's voice, the fighting starting to diminish now.

"Alright Tones, got the guy, turning him into NYPD now."

Tony exhaled, nice and slow and Peter nearly screamed, "Alright, lay it on me Spidey, where am I heading to, ETA ten minutes."

Peter sighed, letting himself relax against the ground a little more in relief of the knowledge that help was on the way, "Ya'know that building that collapsed?"

"Yeah kid, sure. You got stuck with a hurt civ in the aftermath?"

Peter shifted uncomfortably, did they not know he got hurt?

"Erm, well no."

"Kid..." Tony's voice had a dangerous edge, the tone he would use when Peter turned up to work with a stab wound and tried to pass off his dizziness as lack of sleep, "Where are you?"

"Well that building?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm under it."

Dead

Silence

Peter didn't know the comms could be that quiet, like everyone had muted themselves in horror as Peter's words sank in, Tony finally speaking up.

"You mean, like your leg is stuck under some debris?"

Peter winced as the mention of his leg brought the pain of it to the front of his mind, the ache so blinding it almost made his vision white, "No, I'm under the building, like it collapsed on me."

If the comms were silent before, it was like sound had been completely sucked out of the world, the only sound Peter could hear was the repulsors on Tony's suit propelling him faster.

It was quiet for a solid thirty seconds before Sam spoke up, "I'm sorry, what the fuck?"

Peter winced at the sound, the other avengers beginning to speak all at once after the phrase, like a dam had broken and they could no longer keep it in.

"Like under the fucking building?"

"How the fuck did you even-"

"Kid are you okay?"

"Spider what the hell?"

Tony's voice cut over all of the other hero's, "Kid, earlier when Cap said 'are you in immediate danger,' in what fucking world should your answer have been, 'no I'm fine and fucking dandy."

"I didn't say fucking," Peter pointed out tiredly, already mentally preparing himself for the lecture he was about to receive.

"Tones, maybe lecture the kid when he's not sitting under the debris of a five story building."

"Sorry the fuck? Five stories?"

Peter sighed in relief, "Mr. Steve I love you."

"Spiderman in trending on youtube, hashtag RIPSpidey and Fuckbuildings are number on on twitter. Some novice got footage of the building going down and you inside through the glass walls, holy shit," Clint informed him.

"FRIDAY," Tony cut in, "Show that to me."

Peter protested, trying to shift around through the haziness in his mind, the edges of his vision going dark, "FRIDAY, do not!"

"Kid shut up."

"Fine," Peter mumbled through the waves of dizziness, "I was tired anyway."

"Kid do not fall asleep, kid? Spidey? Spiderman? PETER?"

But Peter couldn't fight the waning exhaustion anymore.

When Peter woke up in the medbay he got the oddest sensation of deja vu.

The boy had woken up in Tony's medbay hundreds of times, probably would thousands more, and yet this time, when he woke up cold and shivery, an IV in one arm and connected to a heart monitor, he couldn't help but think about that time he walked to the compound in the rain.

It had happened almost a year ago, and the boy really hadn't been in the rain for long, just from the subway station to Stark Tower, but he was shivering and hypothermic by the time he stepped into the building, barely able to see straight when he ran into his first avenger, Natasha Romanov.

Tony had been there, though it was all a blur now, but the two had hugged, a rare occasion then, though now Peter couldn't fathom seeing and hanging out with Tony without hugging him at least four or five times, and Natasha had been so shocked by Tony's physical affection she literally dropped her book, though Peter couldn't blame her, the man wasn't known for his ability to express emotions.

Tony was in the room when he woke up, sheepishly smiling at him as he said the avengers were worried, "They might also sort of maybe know you are Peter Parker."

Peter had balked, but before he could respond Sam, Clint, and Steve came in, asking questions and talking over each other, inspecting all the medical things the boy was hooked up to and poking around.

Clint proclaimed proudly, "I knew you weren't normal after you picked up Thor's hammer."

"You thought he was an alien for two weeks," Sam pointed out dryly, handing Peter a balloon with "Get better soon," written on it in cartoonish bubble letters.

Tony half shoved the males out the room when Peter's eyes began to droop in the middle of go fish, sitting at his bedside with a stern look that said they were going to talk about the whole "I was under a building for hours and didn't tell a soul," thing, but for now the man just said, "Sleep."

And with the knowledge that he had a group of people that unconditionally loved and supported him, Peter slept.