Chapter Text
It was a long drive home of approximately 43 hours in their cramped car, teeming with their worn-out suitcases and souvenirs.
Currently, they had completed about 36 hours of the ride, with two night-stops at cheap, dubious motels. Pop music was quietly playing as white noise to accommodate the comfortable silence between a nephew and an aunt.
He watched fondly, as May bobbed her head to the beat of the song, smiles etched on both faces.
The strap of his camera that had once belonged to Uncle Ben was loosely hanging around his neck. The device was out of storage with all the pictures he had taken. New memories to treasure dearly.
He was having a casual conversation with her, when she suddenly couldn’t hold it in. A familiar grin displayed on her face, one that could easily outshine the sun in his opinion.
“Are you excited? In six months, you’ll be turning sixteen!” May exclaimed happily, her eyes glued onto the deserted road, as Peter sighed with an exasperated smile.
He leaned his head against the cool pane of the window, the sun was beginning to set. Rays glimmered against his features, as it shadowed his eyes into a brilliant honey brown.
“Key word; Six months. May, that’s still in a loooooong while..” He whined, not bothered to correct his childish whine. With May, he didn’t have to hide who he was. Her side was the safest he could ever feel.
He was jubilant, yet simultaneously exhausted from their annual aunt-nephew trip. Since they slept on different mattresses— ardently stiff ones might he add, Peter had lost several precious hours of rest.
“I know, I know. But still! You were just so little.. Ooh, I can still envision your chubby little cheeks. And now… Now you’re all handsome and even taller than me!” She simpered.
He whined out another “May…!” earning an amused giggle from the adult.
Feeling benevolent, she chose to change subjects, and he was grateful for it.
Deep down, he was admittedly excited for his birthday, even if it wasn’t near yet. It would be his first birthday with the Avengers and May together… Two families who were equally as important to him.
He’d probably celebrate with Ned and MJ on a separate day, they had been discussing about building legos and jamming to songs MJ had saved on her Spotify playlist. They could try baking together with May, which would most likely result in a poor attempt of an edible dinner. And then takeout.
Then, he’d stop by to hang out with New York’s vigilantes, maybe he could guilt trip them into meeting together for his birthday. He’d get Foggy and Karen along too, worst case, he’d trick them with a supposed emergency. And they couldn’t get mad, after all, it’d be his birthday! That was like a universal rule!
If he was really lucky, he could get Matt to tolerate having Mr. Castle and Deadpool around. He hasn’t seen either of them in a while, as they were always on the other side of the world, probably running from the authorities. Oh, maybe Moonknight could join too.
It was odd to have so many people to celebrate with, he used to only have to expect Ned, May and Ben to sing him happy birthday.
“You know.. Mr. Stark mentioned about how he had this big surprise or something that he was already planning.. But it’s still in a pretty long time..” He chuckled at the memory of the sly smirk the older man had given him.
When he thought about it, everyone in the Tower was thrilled about their plans for him, yet no one was willing to share. It wasn’t fair.
He had gotten pretty close to getting Captain Rogers to talk, his mouth open with the words on the tip of his tongue, but Natasha was even quicker to intervene, giving the soldier a harsh jab with her elbow to his ribs with an even harsher glare. Though, she did give Peter a look that translated into: ‘nice try’.
“That man.. Always a show off, isn’t he.” She sighed, but the smile remained, as he covered another laugh.
Tony Stark, a billionaire who took Peter Parker under his wing and acted as a second parent, when May was occupied with work.
Then, the family expanded to the Avengers, and then New York’s vigilantes, and Peter had found another family he could run to.
.
.
.
He stares at the ceiling, it’s another long and quiet night of this week, and he’s grown tired.
It isn’t until the sunlight blinds his eyes that he realizes it is daytime. His dark circles have gotten worryingly prominent, he doesn’t need a mirror to know it.
The scars that surround his body are still very much present, cruelly reminding him of every second of the past.
Of his failure.
He turns his leaden head, staring blankly at the window, the wheelchair mocking him in his peripheral view. He has the urge to punch a wall, to throw the wheelchair out of the window, but he didn’t, couldn’t.
If he counts correctly, he has managed to get four hours of sleep: two of them coming from a nap he had taken the other day.
Natasha had gently and wordlessly directed his head onto her lap, when she noticed his eyes were drooping. They had been playing a movie, that afternoon. It was a new movie that was supposedly good, though he isn’t sure what the plot was even about. He’s been having troubles with recounting his days.
He’s become grateful for all the hoodies and long-sleeved clothes Mr. Stark had gotten him. They hide the things he doesn’t want to see. Not now. Not ever.
He doesn’t really remember everything that’s happened, since the event. More like he doesn’t want to.
It all becomes a mess of blurs: crying, conniptions, screaming, abjections, fear and insanity.
Everything became cloudy, his mind was trapped in a hailstorm. What’s worst is that he does not feel the urge to try and get out of it just yet. No. He merely allows his body to sink further, until he is left suffocating in this inexorable storm.
He pushes down the want to hear her voice again, her light tone when she’d wake him up on the weekends for breakfast.
He’d force himself up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, as he came into the kitchen for burnt toast or undercooked pancakes. Even her mother-like nagging for him to wake up for school, when he stayed up late the previous night to finish his homework, would be a blessing.
The horrifying images are inherently locked in his memory for the rest of his life, to forever haunt him like a spirit.
Almost three awful months have gone by.
He isn’t in a fatal state anymore, that was ten long weeks ago.
The impact of falling hundreds of feet off the ledge had impacted his legs, damaged his nerves and shattered numerous bones in his body from the weight of the vehicle.
Spider-Man had super-human strength, incredible reflexes and enhanced healing.
But even under all of that, he wasn’t invincible.
Bruce had assured him that thanks to his abnormal body— the scientist had found out that the teen could do the impossible; regenerate and replace destroyed nerves, and enhanced healing, with time, patience and practice, Peter would eventually regain the function to walk on his own two feet again.
For now, he had to sit in a wheelchair. Every single day, to allow his system to fully rest and repair, before putting any additional stress on it.
He couldn’t even move his legs if he wanted to. It took a while to regenerate the missing neurones after all. He’d have to be forbearing and allow his body to recuperate.
There’s a soft knock at the door, as he has just finished changing into another oversized outfit by himself. He doesn’t bother answering, as the person has slowly opened it, peering their head into the narrow opening.
He stuffs his scarred hands into their rightful pockets, as Clint makes his way beside him, with a benign smile. He kneels down, trying to catch Peter’s dark brown, sunken eyes.
The archer nervously bites his bottom lip, trying to maintain a positive mood, when he spots the kid’s scar below his jaw.
“I see you managed to get changed by yourself today. Good job, Spidey!” He attempts to encourage him, with a playful voice.
But he can’t ignore the lifeless eyes that stare back at the ground. There is little reaction.
Ever since he had woken up after the crash, the kid had barely spoken or reacted. Sometimes they wondered if he was even there, with how little he moved or talked.
Even a doll’s eyes held livelier light than his and it scares them. It scares them a lot.
“You ready for breakfast, bud?” He tries to sound excited, normal, familiar. Gotta keep it up. For Peter.
Unsurprisingly, there’s merely a long silence between them that makes his stomach churn.
They had all agreed to take turns, each day, to bring the kid downstairs, deciding it’d be a good start through his healing journey.
Today is Barton’s turn, and everyone in the common room is eagerly waiting to see their youngest member, like any other day.
When he earns the smallest shrug from the Spider, the archer mentally pats himself. At least it is something.
He holds onto the handles, pushing the kid out the door and into the elevator, as his eyes keep track of any potential change in his state.
He starts a few conversations, though all of them sound more with himself with the little answers he receives back, if you count blinking as one. It is unsettling.
When the doors slide open, they’re welcomed with a domestic sight:
Wanda, Vision and Sam are occupied with making breakfast, as both of them make sure to keep a close eye on the humanoid. Sam is flipping pancakes, while Wanda and Vision take care of the classics: eggs, bacon and toast.
Natasha and Bucky are on the sofa watching the news, while having casual and uninteresting chats in Russian.
Steve, Bruce and, what a miracle it is to spot, Tony Stark, in the common room at this ungodly time of the day, are sitting at the table, a few holograms are pulled up.
Everyone’s attention shifts to the two additions who entered. Not wanting to overwhelm the kid, Bruce and Tony are the first to walk over to them.
Clint notices the way some of their shoulders deflate with disappointment when they see that the kid’s demeanour hasn’t changed a single bit. They’re quick to cover it, but nothing goes unseen under Hawkeye’s observations.
They have all tried to make him happy, to bring back the old overly chatty, optimistic, awkward, curious, clumsy, loving and shy Peter Parker they knew and horribly missed.
Even then, they still keep their smiles, while wishing that he’d return his own back to them. One day.
They are determined.
“Good morning, Bambino.” Stark’s voice is rough, deeper than usual, but convivial. His cup of coffee having been long forgotten on the table, beside Steve who offers a wave.
God, he desperately wants to get the kid back. Three months and still barely any progress. They haven’t even made a crack.
Rhodey, Bruce, Tony and Sam had worked on finding the best therapist they could for Peter. One they could trust with his life-long secret and who were specialized in dealing with grieving teenage spider kids.
They’d call the ones that seemed promising, see how the first meeting would go and if they were a keeper, then perhaps they would share the teen’s counterpart. To help better understand the situation and what they were dealing with.
The past therapists they had chosen had visited him every day on his medical bed, but nothing ever came out of his mouth.
There were times where he would web them to the wall if he didn’t particularly like them.
It scared the shit out of them, when FRIDAY would request assistance at the medbay and they’d find a terrified professional webbed against the white sterile walls.
The kid was already known for being Spider-Man’s tech assistant, so the actual connection didn’t really click.
Near the end of the third week, on his sixth one, for the first time, he shot Steve an irate glare and it hurt the man a lot. It had felt like a slap across the face.
He thinks he would’ve preferred jumping on top of a grenade all over again.
That was the second reaction they had gotten out of him, since the accident.
The first being drowning himself in tears, as his body heavily trembled, when they dreadfully announced the news about his dear aunt May.
Though, they had been forced to sedate him, effectively knocking him out, when he had attempted to force himself out of bed. The look of utter betrayal, as his body tried to fight through the muzziness drowned them with shame.
Eventually, they had no choice but to have Sam as his therapist for now. Even if he couldn’t get the kid to talk, he still wasn’t webbed to the wall, unlike the previous unlucky ones.
When Peter was admitted out of the medbay, his first move was to lock himself in his bedroom for two whole weeks.
He had chosen to sequester himself from everyone, and they had allowed him, deciding that he probably wanted to be left alone to process it all. Trying to include a therapist in his life had showed the opposite effect, so they were being cautious with their next moves. If they weren’t careful, who knew what the kid would try to do to himself.
It hurt to be shut down, but this wasn’t about them. So, someone would bring him food to his room, quietly knocking and leaving it in front of the door.
On the first day, Peter hadn’t even bothered to pick the tray up, leaving it as it was, they weren’t certain if he had even opened his door.
They tried knocking more insistently, beseeching him to ‘at least have a snack, please kid’.
But they were left in deafening silence.
Still, they kept dropping food in front of his door, his three meals a day and even a couple of his favourite snacks. No one bothered hiding their disappointment or concern when the trays were returned with food that was left untouched.
They didn’t give up, though. Couldn’t.
Five days later, Steve’s eyes suddenly widened avidly, his body halting, when he noticed that the smallest chunk of the chocolate chip muffin, Sam had made, was bitten off. His eyes scanned between the wooden door and treat, before he felt a small tug of relief blooming in his chest.
When he went ahead and proudly presented it to the others, Sam took the opportunity to bombarde the kitchen with baked goods.
He spent time learning new recipes he thought the kid would like, occasionally getting help from the super soldier. It was nice to know that the Spider still had his unbearable sweet tooth that no one could ever dream to match with.
Tony had ordered FRIDAY to open the windows when the common room began to have a lingering stench of sugar, eggs and butter. God, he could feel the cavities forming by the smell alone.
Another two days later, Natasha guilelessly smiled to herself, when she saw that the bowl of rice was half eaten, and a quarter of the miso soup was missing.
Sometimes, on good days, some of the snacks they’d leave in front of his bedroom door would disappear, within the span of three hours.
Sam’s pride had especially gone up that week, when many of his treats he’d left for Peter at his door were returned with an either half or empty plate in hand.
On Sunday night of the second week of his isolation, they had a colloquial meeting with everyone besides the kid himself. They all agreed that it was best to pull Peter out of his room, before he could do anymore damage. They’d let him socialize with everyone at his own pace and hopefully they’d be able to show him that he wasn’t alone.
“Good morning, Peter. How is your body doing? Are you feeling any pain?” Bruce benignly inquires.
Today, Peter chooses to stay quiet. Like usual.
The scientist offers him a diffident smile, before softly and carefully pulling his right hand out.
When he had first done it, he was immediately webbed to the table with a yelp. Though, over time, it grew to be their daily routine, when the kid didn’t answer.
He places his index and middle on the slim wrist, humming with satisfaction when he concludes that his heart rate is stable. Well, as stable as it can be, as Peter’s pulse is intrinsically quicker, than an average person.
Both Clint and Tony wince at the scars and the tremors, but they all choose not to comment, knowing how much Peter has become heavily self-conscious about them.
“Seems like you’re doing good, I’m glad. I just wanted to let you know that next week will be your next physical check up with me, alright?” The scientist gently reminds.
Clint takes it as his cue to push the teen to the dining table, as everyone slowly makes their way around, as well.
Nobody argues when the billionaire claims the spot besides the teen.
Though, it is always a race for the other side.
This time, Bucky proudly snatches the seat, a second earlier than the other Russian spy, who glares daggers at his throat.
He silently flips her off with his metal arm, earning an unimpressed glare from their captain. Natasha decides to sit diagonal to the kid, who stares at his empty plate.
They enjoy their breakfast in peace. As usual now, Peter eats very little, something that took getting used to.
With her magic, Wanda assists with filling the Spider’s glass of water and cutting his food into chewable pieces, when he makes no move to pick up his utensil.
Peter doesn’t like seeing the way the water inside the glass will constantly waver, while in his grasp. His hands just won’t stop shaking.
He used to have such stealthy hands, but now, he can’t even hold the lightest of objects without trembling.
Sometimes, it makes him angry. So angry, that he forgets about his abnormal strength and almost breaks the item.
He had done it once, when Steve, him, Sam and Wanda sat around the table with art supplies. They decided to try art therapy with paint and pencils, which wasn’t really Peter’s thing, but it wasn’t like he protested either. So, everyone was doing their own project, trying to give the kid his own space.
By the third time Peter had lifted his brush to dip it in paint, his knuckles turned white as he snapped the brush in half.
Despite the unrelenting grip, his face remained stoic, but his eyes were glinting with this new and frankly unnerving anger on the tool and his offending hand that just wouldn’t fucking hold still.
No one reprimanded him for it, but Steve swiftly took the brush pieces from him with a little more force of his own when sticky fingers wouldn’t let go and splinters began digging into scarred skin.
They decided that it was enough and transported him to the living room where they watched Star Wars movies for the rest of the afternoon.
No matter how long it takes, no one left the dining table, until Peter would at least eat something off his plate.
Every week, they’d give him a small push to eat a little more than before, and half of the time he’d listen.
When Peter pushes the plate away from him, deeming that he’s finished, Steve volunteers to bring him to the living room.
It’s around 9 am, his meetings with Sam are usually in the early afternoons.
Wanda decides to pull out some puzzles her and Vision had bought the other week, while they were out to buy some sandwiches from Spider-Man’s favourite deli place.
She scatters the different boards around the coffee table, before settling on a Garfield one. She places it in front of Peter, as she tags along in building the pieces together with him.
Steve decides to watch from the sofa with his art supplies, creating messy sketches in his sketchbook, while Star Wars is playing in the background. Hopefully providing a domestic environment will give the kid some kind of comfort.
———————
When it’s time for bed, Tony goes ahead and leads him to his room. He rubs soothing circles on the teen’s knuckles, coaxing them to unclench, while sharing a few stories of his childhood in hopes of getting closer with the kid.
Though, it is suffocating and occasionally leaves him numb, he talks about his father and how he felt neglected. How he made many shitty choices, but he still finds himself here, alive, and saving people.
Feelings aren’t something Tony Stark is familiar with, but he tries very hard to open up. He’d sometimes choke up on particular memories, and the kid, though non-responsive, listened.
Sometimes, on stressful or generally bad nights, he chose to stay quiet, as they both basked in the silence with nothing, yet too much on their minds.
Even with nothing but bereavement showing on his face, Peter would rarely shed tears in the presence of others, but when he did Tony would wipe them away with his thumb, as he continued to talk.
Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever see the kid smile again. He’d practically get down on his knees and beg to whatever deity there was, if it meant he’d see Peter with that coy grin, even if it was for one short second. He’d shoulder Peter’s pain in a heartbeat if he could.
When the kid is tucked under the blanket, the billionaire settles on the side of the bed and gazes around the room.
“You know… That lawyer, Murdock, called earlier. Asked how you were and if he and his firm partners could come and see you.”
Peter slowly blinks, before his pupils barely shift upwards.
“Wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I told them I’d call them back after I asked you.”
As expected, the kid doesn’t answer. Tony sighs, before staring at the door.
“I’ll call them tomorrow, what do lawyers even like to eat?” He wonders aloud, not expecting any replies.
He had to battle every second to not fall back into the habit he had worked so hard to push away.
His mind was muddied, as he paced back and forth, waiting for something to happen, as the doctors did all they could for both aunt and nephew.
Natasha had had to slap him a couple of times, when he tried to reach into the cabinet he knew was stocked with whiskey and other heavily alcoholic concoctions.
He never made a remark, not even on the particularly harsher ones that left a red mark in the aftermath.
“You and I both know that he wouldn’t want you cutting years of work you’ve done for yourself.” She’d contemptuously snark.
Then she’d leave, confident that the lingering sting and words would make him think twice on his decision.
And it did.
———————
Everyone else is sitting around the table, most stares directed at Sam, who offers a sympathetic sigh.
“Nothing.. He mostly stared out the window, while I talked to him.” He denounces, haggard.
Everyone deflates once again, it shouldn’t be surprising that the kid was so morose, and yet they couldn’t stop the disappointment. However, both Natasha and Clint suddenly glance at each other in silent communication.
.
.
.
He could practically feel his eyelids falling, but he forced himself to stay awake.
May would chuckle at him, when she’d catch him suddenly bob his head back, eyes wide open, before he fell slack again.
He took the time to scroll through the pictures, sometimes deleting a few blurry ones, but there weren’t that many.
He smiled at the ones with May, and grinned even wider when it was just the both of them, happily enjoying their time together.
By now, they were making their way off the cliff, barely any cars were on the road. The song on the radio had tuned into some casual jazz music. May seemed to enjoy it, so Peter made no move to change it.
They were having a nice chat, something about their next trip and where they should go, before Peter’s phone began ringing.
He grinned brightly, as he read the caller ID, sparing May a glance, before answering the phone with a light tone.
“Hey Mr. Stark!” The Spider chirped.
May rolled her eyes at his sudden enthusiasm. Leave it to the billionaire to wake her nephew up in mere seconds.
“Hey Bambino, guessing you’re on your way home?” From a distance, Peter could hear the faint sounds of drilling and sparks.
He hummed suddenly remembering the fun ideas for projects they could do together. Ideas he had come up with during the trip.
“Yeah, we’re probably gonna make it back by… Tomorrow? I bought souvenirs for everyone!” He babbled and heard the other man chuckle.
They were stuffed into a shopping bag, carefully seated on the left side of the back seats.
“Gotta say, leave it to you to make everyone in the Tower all sad and sulking. They all miss you, kid.”
Peter felt his cheeks burning at the sudden declaration, clearing his throat in surprise, while ignoring May’s curiosity and raised eyebrow.
He couldn’t really understand nor believe why Earth’s mightiest heroes would miss a 15-year-old boy from Queens that had earned his powers via getting bit by a radioactive spider.
But here he was. How crazy was that?
“Miss me? Mr. Stark.. It’s only been a week. Pretty… sure, you’re exaggerating. Why would they miss me?” He asked, absolutely oblivious to the affection he earned from each member.
He could practically hear the eye roll he received from the other line, as the older man sighed exasperatedly.
“I seriously don’t understand you. You’re a freaking teenage genius that could compete with my intelligence, and yet you’re simultaneously, absolutely, impossibly blind and dumb.” He muttered out.
He couldn’t help the offended pout that contorted his face.
He was about to return a snarky remark in retaliation, when he felt a familiar pinch on the back of his neck.
“I-“
“Hi, Peter!” He recognized Wanda’s voice over the line, as a few other muffled voices could be heard in the background.
He languorously waved, before remembering that he was on the phone.
“Hi Wanda.” He ignored May’s poorly hidden snort, as he glared at her.
“We are on a quick mission to an abandoned HYDRA base. We’re like two hours away from it. Oh, Clint says hi, by the way.” He blinked in surprise, leaning forward into his seat.
“Oh man, d-do you guys need me? I mean, I can try to get there and—“ He looked at the back seats, trying to remember which luggage held his Spider-Man suit.
“Underoos, no— a quiet sigh, it’s just a simple mission, especially if I can work on my own sh— stuff, while we’re making our way there. You don’t have to worry about it. Besides, you sound like you’re a second away from going to la la land, guessing you had fun on your trip?” He teased.
His cheeks flushed a soft pink, again, as he awkwardly coughed.
May sighed exasperatedly, earning another sharp glare from the teen.
“Y-Yeah..” A yawn, feeling tears prickling at his eyes, “I took a lot of pictures too! Can’t wait to see you all.”
A lopsided smile spread across his face.
.
.
.
By the end of the next week, Peter has gone through his physical test, with Tony carefully and silently watching at his side.
Strange would sometimes join along on his free time. His knowledge in this domain expanded further than Bruce’s.
Though, since Peter isn’t an ordinary kid, they still needed to perform more tests and studies to better understand his anatomy and abilities.
It was also grimly comforting, since they both now shared scars that came from traumatizing accidents. Car accidents.
No one missed how the teen’s eyes would forlornly linger on the sorcerer’s hands whenever they were near him.
They thought that perhaps seeing someone else relate to him helped, so whenever he could, Stephen would remove his gloves during examinations and visits.
Strange would spare him a few hesitant quirks of the lips, as he stared pitifully at the brunette.
If he could, he’d stay a little longer in the common room with Peter.
The cloak of levitation, never too far behind from its master, occasionally wrapped itself around him when it noticed the boy shiver. Strange would give Peter a firm nod, before leaving to deal with dimensional business.
They always gave him an hour break after his examination, before rolling him in to talk with Sam.
For this week, the moment he leaves the private room with the temporary therapist, both spies expertly decide to steal him away from the others.
“I think it’s time to go out on a little adventure, right, Spidey?” When the archer receives no response, he takes it as permission.
———————
It’s a pleasant day outside, the weather is warm, so it isn’t necessary to wear any heavy clothing.
Both spies still wore sunglasses, as Natasha had casually and swiftly called “Dibs on pushing Peter in the wheelchair.” and Clint groaned in annoyance.
They decide to take a relaxing stroll to a nearby park, ignoring the stares they receive from the crowd, as they make their way there. As long as Peter didn’t seem to mind their gawping, they made no move to interject.
As expected, the park is pretty empty and quiet.
They’d sometimes hear birds chirping. Not many people, aside from a few runners and, maybe, one or two elderly couple would pass by.
They take their time walking through the park, admiring the colourful, fragrant flowers and giant trees that sway to the light breeze.
They can’t help but frown, when they receive no reaction from the kid. Everyone knows Peter Parker loves going outside and loves gazing at the flowers. Especially because May enjoyed doing that as well.
But the kid didn’t even spare more than a second glance, before his eyes returned onto his empty lap.
They spend almost an hour at the park, before both adults finally admit that this hasn’t helped their case.
Peter had simply gone along with whatever they did with that same despondent look. Eventually, after one last walk around the playground, they decide to head back.
They take a different route, passing by many stores beside each other, but none captures his interest.
Natasha spares Clint a glance, his sad eyes locked onto a mess of brown curls.
She takes pity on the archer, aware that his paternal instincts made the disappointment truly sting.
She’s thinking of how she’s going to denounce it to everyone, who were all hopeful and expectant towards their plan—
A far away bark reaches enhanced ears, as his head suddenly shoots upwards.
He looks at the rundown building they’re walking past, peering through the window. It’s difficult to see what’s inside, the white walls and plain decoration remind him of the medbay.
But, then there’s another sound— another bark, and Peter is more attracted to go inside.
Both adults catch onto his sudden curiosity, and immediately rush to his attention.
“Peter? Is there something wrong?” Natasha is the first to speak, her soothing voice makes his head whirl around.
He stares into her blue eyes, and slowly with unsteady, delicate fingers, he points at the worn-out establishment.
His attention falls back to the opaque window, as the two spies share a befuddled look at the Spider’s enigmatic behaviour.
“You wanna go check it out?” Clint hesitantly asks, and when he receives a lumbering nod, they both can’t bring themselves to deny the kid.
For the first time in two months, it is the most progressive reaction they’ve received.
There are no signs to explain what this place is about, yet the kid seems rather eager to go inside.
Warily, the archer holds the glass door open, as a bell chimes to announce their presence.
There’s a small reception, a few potted plants and a derelict sofa with two plastic chairs. Worn documents and papers are taped to the wall behind the counter, and suddenly a petite woman rushes from out the door.
She has a welcoming smile, and piercing green eyes that are hidden behind black glasses. Her hair is a dirty blond, tied into a messy bun with a thick elastic.
“Welcome to the dog shelter! Are you interested in adopting one of our dogs here?” She genially inquires, eyes valiantly bright with hope.
The same hope everyone, back at the Tower, has.
They all want two different, yet similar things, and that’s when realization dawns on them.
Ah. Of course..
“Ah… Hm. Well, we just wanted to take a look around, if that’s alright? Meet the dogs.” Natasha can’t help but show a rakish smile.
This is definitely Peter Parker-like.
“Oh! Yes, of course! My name is Rachel, by the way. We have many dogs looking for a new home, and a loving family. Are there any specific breeds or qualifications you’re looking to meet?” She leads them through the door she had come from, revealing a vast area with dogs. Lots of them.
The pungeant smell hits their noses and the loud barking and cage scratching rattle against their ears. But none of them complain.
Especially not, when they see it: Peter’s eyes suddenly spark a little, his hands twitch with anticipation, most likely with the desire to pet as many as he can.
“Not for now, we’re pretty open minded.” Natasha decides on, eyeing a large, fluffy Border Collie.
Rachel nods, letting them explore the area, as she excuses herself to tend to something.
Each section holds one to two dogs, a bed, bowls and a toy. They all wag their tails excitedly, at the new guests.
The first dog they walk up to is a Bulldog who pants with a red rope-toy in rough shape between its paws.
Beside it, there’s an energized Cocker Spaniel, who’s more than happy to grab their attention. Its large ears bounce around, as the pup jumps inside its cage with boisterous yips.
They take their time visiting each and every dog, and both spies feel a certain warmth when Peter would lean down, as far as his body allowed him to, to let the animal sniff his hands, before he lovingly pets them.
———————
Two hours into their visit, and they’ve practically met each ball of fur and saliva.
Rachel would come up to them a few times, check in with them, and occasionally share information about the pup they were seeing.
In the middle of the room, there’s a German Shepherd that seems to have caught the kid’s attention.
It’s a lot less energetic than many of the other dogs, demure but just as besotted. Rachel seems to pick up on Peter’s interest and takes the opportunity to speak up.
“This is Valentino, he’s a two-year-old German Shepherd and is a lot calmer than a lot of the other dogs. He’s a sweetheart and very smart, though, he’s quite closed off.”
Valentino’s eyes curiously glance at Peter’s, as he slowly lifts his head. He gently bumps his black, wet nose against the kid’s knuckles, when the Spider reaches out.
“Valentino used to work with the police, but after an accident, he lost his hearing in his right ear and most of his enthusiasm when they dropped him here.” She glances sadly at the dog.
“He was quite injured and was paralyzed, for a short while. But he’s alright now, after surgery. If you want, we have an area where you can play with him.” She suggests knowingly.
Peter hesitantly looks at her kind green eyes before nodding.
Natasha gives a smirk to her partner in crime, as they follow the lady and wait for her to bring Valentino inside the room.
Peter’s head shoots up the moment he hears large, heavy paws padding against the tiled floor.
Before the door can even completely open, a fluff of brown and black fur practically bulldozes the rest of the door wide open and rushes to the kid.
His tail frenetically wags, to the point where they can hear it, as he settles his two front paws on his armrests, effectively caging the kid.
“Woah! Buddy, be gentle! Oh god. So sorry, this-“ She’s cut off by her own surprised laugh.
“This is the first time he’s been this excited about meeting someone.”
As if to prove a point, the dog lets out a happy bark, before deciding to cover Peter’s face in saliva. After reassurances from the adults, Rachel decides to let the trio alone to get to know Valentino better.
Time seems to have slowed down for the spies, when they hear it.
They hear Peter giggle.
They freeze in place, eyes glued onto the sight of a boy in a wheelchair, who hasn’t smiled in three long months, now currently giggling his lungs out, as his hands scratch the back of the German Shepherd’s ear.
They are completely stunned, to the point where they stay silent, until it is time to go, which ends up being an hour later.
Dinner will probably be ready by the time they return, and Peter’s smile falls when it’s time to say goodbye.
“Don’t worry, you can come back whenever you want! Valentino will be here waiting for you.” Rachel happily reassures the kid, when she sees his frown.
As they walk out the door, Natasha is, suddenly, stopped by a gentle tug at her sleeve. Rachel watches her, with hopeful and sincere eyes.
“If you ask me, I think Valentino would be perfect for that boy. But, of course, I’m not pressuring you to adopt!” She flails her hands in panic, worried she pressured the Widow.
“It’s just.. If you do consider, you should probably hurry, Valentino might not be here for much longer, if things don’t turn out well.” She decides with a sad smile.
From the window, she stares at Peter with Clint pushing his wheelchair. Natasha raises an eyebrow at her suggestion, and she gives a small head tilt.
“What do you mean?” She asks, catching Rachel’s attention back.
“Well, there are so many abandoned and abused animals around the world. So many, in fact, that shelters struggle to be able to house them..”
Natasha isn’t blind to that truth; she had seen her fair share of stray cats and dogs roaming along the streets. Spider-Man was sometimes seen dropping off canned pet food, as he left them open for whoever found them.
Those were the few exceptions where he’d ask Stark for money. And when the man found out, he had asked FRIDAY to order a whole stock, and left the kid to happily swing around New York to giddily hand them out. He had done it enough times that some of the furry critters would recognize him and come out at the sound of his voice,
“And well.. Some like us struggle financially to be able to keep this place open, which is why the shop isn’t so… Eye catching?” She lets out a regretful huff, before looking back at the spy.
“To be honest.. I’m not so sure how much longer we can keep this place open, and, if we have no choice, but to close it... Well… There aren’t really any more nearby shelters that have enough room to house these pups..” She takes a deep breath, before continuing.
“So.. Consider it, alright? I’ll try my best to keep this place standing, and I really do hope that, that boy gets better. Ahem. Have a good day!” They both sourly bid each other farewell.
Natasha joins the other two, as they make their way back towards the Tower.
She slows her steps, as she pulls out a phone, dialling Steve’s number. After the first ring, an expectant super soldier is waiting on the other line for news.
“Well?” She can’t help but roll her eyes at the childlike tone, from a grown man many people looked up to. His face was on children’s toys and posters. But then again, she can’t blame him.
“We’ll talk about this over dinner... But, for now.. I thought you might want to have a head start.”
.
.
.
“Peter?” Everything around him, the sounds surrounding him were muffled, as he looked out of each window.
May frantically tried to watch over the road, while searching for a spot they could park and check on her alarmed nephew. But they were stuck on a narrow road.
The lack of sleep didn’t help his case, delaying his reaction time and thinking speed. He felt tipsy, his head spinning nonstop, as he kept his eyes moving around.
“Peter, honey... What’s wrong?” May settled her delicate hand on his leg, trying to regain his attention.
Her eyes multitasked between her kid and driving. She jumped a little, when she saw his fearful eyes.
The moment she gave a gentle squeeze, that’s when his skin started burning, and the ringing got unbearably louder.
“Peter—“ Her voice was gentle, laced with worry.
She was clueless of what was happening.
“May—!” He screamed out her name, thoughts racing.
He could hear the voice of Mr. Stark and Wanda, further away, as the phone fell onto the carpeted ground, between his feet.
One second too late, and he found himself trying to drag them both out of the falling car.
Gravity was against them. His head began bleeding out of a deep gash, from the impact of smashing it against the window, as the other car had carelessly crashed into them, at full speed.
The metal barrier broke from the force, as he saw the fear in May’s tear-filled eyes.
He had just managed to pull his upper half out of the vehicle, stretching his arm out to her, when they plummeted to the ground—
.
.
.
“Tony... I know this is sudden and—“
Look, the man is trying. He knew what was going to happen, and still went along with it. Like a true soldier, some would say.
“A dog?! Rogers, you cannot be serious! I already told you all, I absolutely do not want pets in the Tower!”
The billionaire shouts at the poor man, outraged by Steve’s sudden request to get a dog, without further context.
It isn’t necessarily his fault, Natasha wasn’t so magnanimous to offer him any more details other than “Convince Tony to get a dog.” and had hung up the phone, in his face, before he could spare another word.
He glared at the offending device, as if it’d help his case, before an awkward cough caught his attention. Wanda was looking at him, waiting for whatever he had to share.
Steve nervously bit his lip.
He called out to the billionaire, who was tiredly drinking coffee in the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow, while making his way over to the super soldier.
“Yes... I know.. But—“ Their argument has gone on for fifteen agonizing —especially, for Steve— minutes, while the other traitors silently stared at the two, from the couch.
He starts wondering if the billionaire is going to throw the empty mug, he’s currently holding, at him from the knuckle white grip he has on it.
It isn’t until they hear the sound of the elevator, that within a blink of an eye, Stark’s anger has completely seeped away into nothing.
Steve sighs out in relief, practically close to collapsing on the ground from surviving such unwarranted wrath.
“They really do fight like an old married couple.” He shoots Sam an annoyed glare, with one perfect eyebrow dangerously raised, immediately shutting the other man up.
Though, everyone’s attention is quickly stolen when the metal doors slide open, revealing one grinning archer, a neutral faced spy, and one fur-covered Spiderling.
Peter’s eyes are still glued to his lap, as he doesn’t attempt to make any greetings. Everyone else, who hasn’t gone out, aren’t certain with what to make of that.
‘Did it go well..?’
Dinner is already finished, as they all had waited for their three missing members to return, so they could all sit around the table.
This time, it’s Natasha’s turn to flip Barnes off. Smirking, when Steve shoots her a murderous glare for multiple reasons.
Tony is twirling his thumbs around, as he was probably the most reluctant to let the kid outside, especially without him.
The horrifying possibilities that could happen conjured up in his mind, when Peter was away from his protection, scared the man.
They had agreed to go with the least recognizable people (eyes immediately darted towards Steve, Tony, Vision and Bruce) choosing the ones that were experienced with not getting caught and playing the roles of civilians, while looking out for any potential threat.
Their first priority, as always, is to make sure Peter’s plate is filled, before anyone else’s. They’d put one of each dish they’d have for dinner, lunch and breakfast, in this case, it is a diverse mix of Thai food.
When they deem his plate to be full enough, for now, knowing that the teen never even makes it halfway through, they start grabbing for their own.
The light conversations they’d have with each other are long forgotten, as all eyes are between the three who had left the Tower for 4 anticipating hours.
They sit in silence, both Clint and Natasha having a silent conversation between who would speak up first.
Peter seeming the only oblivious one to the tension, as his eyes are on his plate, and his shaking hands fidgets with his spoon.
He liked using chopsticks, but now that his hands were unsteady, it became difficult to pick things up.
“So... How did today’s outing go?” Bruce decides to speak up, clearing his throat, as everyone stiffens.
“…”
Another minute of silence goes by, and Clint decides to open his mouth, preparing to share the news, when—
“There... w-were.. a lot— o-of… dogs...” The room goes deadly silent when the hoarse, but small voice speaks up, for the first time in a long time.
A quiet voice that stutters between each wording, that now isn’t used to speaking.
For anyone who isn’t caught up with their situation, they would’ve found it funny, seeing a dinner table surrounded by heroes that have their eyes comically wide.
Their brains are frozen, needing to take a while to process what has just happened.
‘Was that..— Was that… Peter….?’
Luckily, Bruce is the first to break through the stunned phase, not letting this opportunity slip away from them.
He offers an encouraging smile, scooping a spoonful of rice.
“Really? That sounds nice, what kind of dogs?”
Aliens? Easy. Nazis? Pfft, piece of cake. Crazy people who were obsessed with the want for power? Walk in the park. Robots that wanted to rule the world? Been there, done that.
But this? The sight of a young boy, with his head shooting upwards, as his eyes sparkle with a new childish light, while he rambles on about each dog he met at a shelter?
That is what destroyed each one of them. (In a good way, of course)
Stark’s kid— No- Fuck that. They’ve been past that for a while now.
Their kid is rambling on with life in his eyes and clumsy enthusiasm in his tone. His rambles they had all dearly missed and craved to hear again. For once, they all agree that they have made some progress...
They all listen attentively, as he lists each and every dog, one by one, from looks, to breed, to gender, to name, to age. No one grows bored, in fact, they want the Spiderling to keep talking.
Dinner goes on, as Peter takes the spotlight. The guileless smile on his face melts away all dread and anxiety that had been building up.
No one misses the fond looks Tony gives, his eyes prickling with tears in them, while his smile can overcome the sun.
Wanda seems eager to go with him, wanting to meet the dogs and to obtain the chance to see Peter laugh.
No one will admit that they are jealous of the spies for being able to hear Peter giggle.
Absolutely not.
Especially not, when the duo both have shit-eating grins on their faces, radiating “Heh, bet you wished you were there.”
This time, Steve is actually glad that Bucky gives them a middle finger.
———————
Tony Stark is completely against having pets in his lovely, majestic Tower.
Absolutely not. Not now, not ever.
He was outraged when Steve Rogers had dared to suggest it, when he had made it very clear about that topic.
He didn’t hate animals; he just didn’t want them anywhere near his home. Especially cats and dogs, not when they were known for shedding a ridiculous amount of fur and drooled like it was all they knew how to do.
Yet, that very same Tony Stark is here, currently sitting on the common room sofa with a Starkpad in hand, looking up the shelter the kid had gone to, at two in the fucking morning.
Right after he put Peter to bed, he rushed over to Natasha for the name of the place.
She confidently smirked at him. “So, about that dog…”
“Tsk. Fuck off, Romanoff.”
He’s currently making plans on donating at least a million dollars to the place without a second thought. No one objected, especially not when they got to have a part of their Peter back.
It is hysterical to think that a kid from Queens who possessed freaky spider powers, has somehow managed to change Tony Stark’s mind into getting a dog in mere seconds.
He can get over the fur shedding, worst case, he’d call for some professional cleaners to come over every week, or regularly change the furniture. Whichever worked really.
When you are a multi-billionaire, you tend to spend your money freely with little care.
He mindlessly scrolls through the long list they have on their amateur website of the dogs that are up for adoption, recognizing them all.
‘He really did remember each one…’ Tony thinks amusedly, this kid is really going to be the death of him.
(In a good and bad way, of course)
However, his eyes and mind are glued onto one specific dog.
“A-And.. There... was this… G-German Shepherd.. His name.. was.. Va-Valentino... I-I got to play w-with him... and—“ It was easy to understand that Valentino was the one who caught the kid’s heart.
They could all easily tell, especially with how his eyes softened even further when he mentioned his name. Though, the kid made no request of wanting to get him, Tony had other plans.
He smiles to himself, while staring at the screen displaying a certain German Shepherd. His eyes are threatening to fall asleep with the numbers of all nighters he’s done this week.
In all fairness, he could deal with this tomorrow, but Tony Stark can be and is currently impatient. Pepper had always complained about his impulsivity. Speaking of Pepper…
He pulls out his phone, his eyes never moving off the Starkpad, as the phone rings, loud and clear in his ear.
“Tony..? I just had to abruptly leave a very important meeting. If you’re seriously calling me again because you miss me, I swear I’ll—“ The voice on the other line sounds frustrated.
His throat suddenly hurts, it still all feels like a dream to him. A far away dream that was always just out of his reach. But now…
“Pep.. Peter… Peter- He...” The line suddenly grows quiet, as Pepper’s ranting comes to a stop.
He can hear shuffling sounds, and then a door opening.
“My apologies, but I’m afraid I’ll have to end the meeting early. I have some very important business to deal with, right now. I sincerely appreciate and thank all of you for coming here, let’s all work together in the future.” No one objects her sudden dismissal, not with the firm tone and intimidating eyes.
There are footsteps moving around, before the door shuts and she sighs to herself. He takes it as his cue to continue, he bites his lip agitatedly
“You should’ve seen him.. Even I can’t believe it, Pep. I saw him. He talked.. with such a wide smile, I was so scared that I was having another dream. Peter— He was there, he came back.. He was so happy.” His chest tightens, as the fresh memory replays so vividly in his mind.
He slowly grows concerned, as the silence goes on for longer than anticipated.
“Y-You... Anthony Edward Stark. You better not be joking with me— You can’t be playing around, this—“
“Pepper. You and I both know that I would never joke around with this. Please.. The kid.. I saw him, his eyes looked so clear—“ He chokes on a quiet sob, he didn’t realize how much his own hands have started shaking.
He suddenly feels wide awake, like he can conquer something. Anything.
He can’t blame her for feeling like this, no one handled the news well, when they found out the kid and his aunt had been in an accident.
.
.
.
His limbs were in positions that weren’t normal, his breathing was laboured, and he had lost a dangerous amount of blood.
Everyone had refused to leave the waiting room, as the surgery went on for fifteen stressful hours. They were grateful that his enhanced healing was already on its duty of replenishing and replacing the blood he was missing.
They were lucky enough that he didn’t suffer from any severe brain damage, though the accident had still left him with a serious concussion.
However, they couldn’t say the same for his aunt, as she wasn’t enhanced like him, she was immediately killed by the percussion. She had been unfairly usurped.
Her neck had snapped, completely cutting off her air circulation and her body couldn’t handle the immense pain or shock, causing it to completely shut down.
Peter was there to watch it all, still awake and unable to do anything, but let his own agony consume him, growing worst by the second.
He had lost complete control and feelings of his legs. He had come close to having them amputated.
He was given an abundant amount of sedative, to numb the pain and make the kid fall asleep on their way to the medbay.
Tony was lucky, the phone being practically unbreakable was able to show Peter’s location. His ears still rang from the loud crash, as he desperately cried out Peter’s name, catching everyone’s attention.
When it was clear that something serious had happened, Steve stared at the billionaire with something he couldn’t quite describe in his eyes. “Tony, go, now.”
And without a second thought, his suit already enveloping his body, he flew, as fast as he could. Enough that he could feel the heat of the engines. When he had arrived, he found the broken fence, with an abandoned car from the inebriated driver who had crashed into them.
Two months later, Pepper was needed abroad for an important business that they could benefit from.
She had originally declined without a second thought. The absolute need to be by Peter’s side pushing through all of her other priorities.
It took three days of convincing from the entire team and Tony to have her fly to Japan, with the promise of calling her, if there were any updates on the kid.
She spent the last three days she had left glued to Peter, before she reluctantly left. Her poor business companions had to deal with a moody, strict and scary Pepper for the time she was there, no one being brave enough to confront her or go against her.
No one dared to look at her, terrified that they’d receive her wrath.
.
.
.
“H-He... He was.. really there..? Peter.. God.. I really, really want to see him, right now...” Her voice trembles, as it gradually grows quieter.
Ever since they learnt of May’s passing, Pepper grew a sense of responsibility to be the kid’s maternal guardian.
Not to replace her, no one could ever replace May Parker, but to show that he wasn’t alone, and that May could rest peacefully knowing that her beloved and incredible nephew was under the care of people who wanted the absolute best for him.
They share a quiet moment, both being together long enough to know that they need another moment.
“I know this is sudden.. But... Could you look into dog adoption?” He decides, better to beat around the bush, Pepper always prefers to be blunt and direct.
She always grows annoyed whenever someone wasn’t being straightforward with her, and he loves that about her. Though, the now uncomfortable silence makes him think otherwise.
“…”
“Pep-?”
“Who are you, and what the fuck did you do to my family?” Her tone suddenly grows serious and threatening, as he sighs in defeat.