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Chapter Text

Peter Parker had faced a lot of strange things in his life—alien invasions, time travel, and even clones—but nothing could have prepared him for the moment he found himself in the mirror, barely able to stand, chubby fingers gripping the edge of the sink. He was a baby. A literal, diaper-wearing, pacifier-chewing baby.

“FRIDAY, tell me I didn’t just hear a baby crying in my lab,” Tony Stark groaned, rubbing his temples.

“I wish I could, Boss,” the AI responded. “But according to all biometric scans, that infant is Peter Parker.”

Tony blinked at the tiny, wide-eyed child sitting in the middle of his worktable, holding up a toy Iron Man figure like it was the most fascinating thing in the universe.

Pepper Potts walked in, heels clicking against the floor. “Tony, why is there a baby in the lab?”

“I was about to ask the same thing,” Tony said, waving a hand at the baby. “Apparently, that’s Spider-Baby.”

Pepper gasped. “Peter?”

The little baby giggled and smacked his toy Iron Man against the table. “T’nee!” he squeaked.

Tony’s expression softened. “Alright, that’s kind of adorable.”

Pepper sighed, rubbing her forehead. “How did this happen?”

“Good question,” Tony said, scanning the lab’s security footage. After a few minutes, he found the answer—Peter had been testing some sort of experimental energy device when it backfired and, well, de-aged him.

“Fantastic. Just another day in the life of Spider-Man,” Tony muttered. “Alright, until we fix this, we’re officially parents.”

Pepper stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

“I don’t kid about these things, Pep. The kid needs us.”

As if proving Tony’s point, Peter stretched his arms out toward Pepper. “Mama?”

Pepper’s heart melted on the spot. “Oh, we are in so much trouble.”

Tony smirked, scooping Peter up. “Yep. And it’s going to be great.”

---

The first night was a disaster.

Tony had dealt with malfunctioning suits, hostile takeovers, and alien warlords, but nothing—not even fighting Thanos—prepared him for a screaming, inconsolable Peter Parker at 3 AM.

“Why is he crying?” Tony asked, panicked, holding baby Peter at arm’s length.

Pepper, half-asleep but still composed, groaned from her spot in bed. “He’s a baby, Tony! He probably needs a bottle, or a diaper change, or… just comfort!”

“Comfort? I build weapons, not bedtime routines!” Tony grumbled, but when Peter’s wails only got louder, he sighed and pulled him close, awkwardly rocking him. “Alright, alright, kid. Calm down, Iron Dad’s got you.”

Peter sniffled and curled into Tony’s chest, his tiny fingers fisting into his shirt.

Pepper smirked. “You were saying?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t rub it in.”

After a few more sleepless nights, Tony started upgrading the tower with high-tech baby-proofing systems. FRIDAY installed motion sensors to track Peter’s movements (since the kid still had web-slinging instincts, even as a baby). The kitchen had an AI-assisted feeding station, and the nursery? State-of-the-art Stark tech, complete with lullabies programmed by FRIDAY herself.

Rhodey dropped by and nearly choked on his coffee. “You built a fully automated baby care system?”

Tony shrugged. “I optimize.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “He panicked.”

Peter, meanwhile, had taken a liking to Rhodey, giggling whenever he saw the War Machine suit. “Boom!” he chirped happily.

Rhodey grinned. “Yeah, that’s my boy.”

---

Despite Tony's baby-proofing, Peter quickly proved that Spider-Babies were just as much trouble as Spider-Teens. One morning, Pepper walked into the kitchen to find Peter hanging upside-down from the ceiling, happily munching on a stolen cookie.

“Tony!” she called. “Your son is defying gravity again!”

Tony strolled in, sipping his coffee. “He’s a Parker. Comes with the package.”

Peter grinned at them. “T’nee! Mama!”

Tony chuckled. “You gotta admit, the kid’s got style.”

Later that day, Peter got into Tony’s workshop, managing to web himself to the floor. It took an hour to detangle him while he giggled uncontrollably.

“I swear, I wasn’t this much trouble as a kid,” Tony muttered, prying webbing off his face.

Pepper shot him a look. “You built a rocket in your garage at fifteen.”

Tony sighed. “Fair point.”

---

Of course, things didn’t stay peaceful for long.

Steve Rogers showed up at the tower, looking uncomfortable. “Tony, I heard something happened to Peter. I wanted to check in.”

Tony’s expression immediately hardened. “We got it handled, Cap.”

Steve frowned. “I just—he’s still my friend.”

Tony scoffed. “Really? Where was that friendship when you let Barnes try to rip my head off?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, but before he could argue, baby Peter—who had been content in Pepper’s arms—took one look at Steve and burst into tears.

Pepper gently bounced him. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart.”

Tony smirked. “Huh. Kid’s got good instincts.”

Steve sighed. “Tony—”

“No. We’re not doing this.” Tony’s voice was final. “Peter doesn’t need people who abandoned him. We’re his family now.”

Steve looked like he wanted to argue, but seeing Peter so distressed, he simply nodded and left.

Pepper sighed. “That was… tense.”

Tony kissed Peter’s forehead. “He doesn’t need them. He’s got us.”

---

Days turned into weeks. Peter, despite the situation, was happy. He adored Pepper, clung to Rhodey like a second dad, and demanded “T’nee up!” whenever he wanted Iron Man-powered flights around the tower.

But Tony knew he had to fix it. As much as he loved this weird little family, Peter deserved to be himself again.

When the moment finally came, Tony hesitated. Pepper squeezed his hand. “He’ll still need us, Tony. That won’t change.”

With a deep breath, Tony activated the device. A flash of light—and suddenly, teenage Peter sat on the floor, dazed.

He blinked up at them. “Uh… why do I feel like I just took the world’s longest nap?”

Tony smirked. “You were adorable, kid.”

Pepper sighed. “You called me ‘Mama.’”

Peter turned bright red. “I—I what?!”

Tony laughed. “Relax, kid. You’re stuck with us, baby or not.”

Peter looked between them, realization dawning. He had a family. A real one.

He grinned. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Tony ruffled his hair. “Welcome home, kid.”

And for the first time in a long time, Peter knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

---

Chapter Text

The weeks that followed Peter’s transformation had been filled with subtle shifts in dynamics. The Avengers, despite their shared history and battles, couldn’t seem to bridge the gaps that had formed since Peter had been de-aged and brought into Tony and Pepper’s family fold. Peter had grown closer to Tony and Pepper, and despite the awkwardness that had followed Steve’s departure after their last encounter, Peter was beginning to feel like he truly belonged. But there was still a barrier—one of unspoken words and a deepened mistrust that simmered beneath the surface.

The Avengers were gathered in the briefing room, the conversation awkward and fractured. They had just completed a mission, but Peter, who had become more involved in their operations, wasn’t here today. Tony could feel the unease in the air, the subtle glances, the way people avoided looking directly at him or Pepper. It was always there now, ever since Peter had come into their lives. Even the usually stoic Natasha seemed to be holding herself back, as though the topic of Peter was something neither she nor anyone else felt comfortable addressing.
“Peter’s doing well,” Tony said, breaking the silence, his voice cool and steady. “We’ve been... handling things. The kid’s adjusting, and so are we.” He looked pointedly at Steve, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The words were a clear dig, but Tony wasn’t sure if he was addressing Steve or the others as a whole.
“You’re sure about this?” Steve finally asked, his voice cautious, if not strained. He was always the one who took things slow, the one who wanted to keep things methodical and safe. But there was something about Peter, about the situation, that Steve couldn’t seem to shake. Something about Peter’s transformation had affected him more than he let on, and it had stirred up old doubts in Steve’s mind.
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean, Cap?” The words were sharp, laced with irritation that Tony didn’t quite try to hide.
“I just—” Steve hesitated, glancing around the room. “I don’t understand how we’re supposed to just *accept* this. Peter’s... he’s always been on his own, and now we’re supposed to treat him like some sort of... I don’t know, adopted child?” The words were clipped, tense. “That’s not how it works, Tony. We’re supposed to be a team, not... a family. There’s a difference.”
The silence in the room was palpable, and Tony stood up. He moved to the window, taking a breath. “You don’t get it, Steve,” Tony said quietly, though his words held a weight of anger beneath them. “Peter’s not just some ‘team member.’ He’s not just the kid who swings around New York and helps save the day. He’s a *person*, Steve. A person who needs love, and safety, and people who *actually care about him*. Something none of you did for him when it counted.”
Steve’s jaw tightened, the words stinging more than he cared to admit. “I didn’t abandon him,” Steve said, his voice low but firm. “I was trying to protect him—trying to protect all of you. *You*—you all made your choices, Tony.”
Tony whirled around, the intensity in his eyes matching the coldness in his voice. “That’s a nice story, Steve. A *really* nice story. But the truth is, Peter was left behind. And now I’m trying to fix that. So you can either accept that, or you can keep holding on to your misguided guilt trip.” He took a step forward, voice rising. “You don’t get to walk back into my life and act like you know what’s best for him when *you* weren’t there when he needed you most. You think it’s easy, Steve? You thin...
There was a crack in Tony’s voice, a vulnerability that Steve hadn’t expected. Tony wasn’t just angry—he was hurt. And it was clear now that the two men, both heroes in their own right, were still battling for something: control, forgiveness, and the idea of family. But they were playing a dangerous game of chicken, and neither of them was backing down.
Pepper, who had been quietly observing the argument, finally spoke. “Enough.” Her voice was calm, but it carried a weight that silenced everyone. She stood, her eyes soft but firm as she turned to Steve. “Peter is *our* son now. He’s not some misplaced pawn for you to try and fix, Steve. You’re his family, yes, but so are we. And if you can’t accept that, then maybe it’s time for you to take a step back.”
The words landed, but Steve’s face didn’t soften. He was too proud, too torn between the ideals of what a team was supposed to be and what Tony and Pepper had become.

Days passed, and while the tension between the team remained, it was clear that things weren’t as easy as they used to be. Everyone had to adjust—not just to Peter’s new family dynamic, but to the fact that the once unshakable bond between the Avengers was slowly crumbling under the weight of Peter’s transformation.
Peter, who had been staying in the Tower with Tony and Pepper, felt the change in the air. It was subtle, the way the team would look at him with distant eyes when they thought he wasn’t paying attention. He could sense the tension between Steve and Tony, the silent judgment from some of the others. And for the first time in a long while, Peter wondered if he was in the right place.
Late one night, he stood in the hallway, watching through the window as Tony and Pepper talked in the living room. They were laughing, their easy camaraderie a sharp contrast to the cold silence that seemed to permeate the rest of the Tower. Peter hadn’t known what family was until they had shown him.
“Kid, you okay?” Rhodey’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Peter didn’t turn, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah. Just... thinking.”
Rhodey leaned against the doorframe, his expression softening. “I know it’s tough. It’s never easy, right? Finding where you belong.” He paused, looking out at the city lights. “But you’ve got them, Peter. You’ve got Tony and Pepper. They’ll always be there for you. And that’s something not everyone gets.”
Peter swallowed, his throat tight. “I just... I just want to make sure I’m not the one causing all this tension. I know they’re fighting for me, but... what if I’m the one who doesn’t belong?”
Rhodey chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Kid, you’ve always belonged. You’re a Stark now, whether you like it or not. And no matter what happens with the Avengers, Tony and Pepper won’t let anyone take that away from you.”
Peter looked at Rhodey, the words sinking in. The burden on his chest lifted a little, but the question of trust—of whether he could ever truly be accepted by everyone—remained.

The next day, the team gathered once again for a mission briefing. Steve, though visibly more withdrawn, made an effort to speak to Peter, his voice softer than before. “You doing alright, kid?”
Peter hesitated, glancing between Steve and Tony, whose expression remained unreadable. “Yeah... just trying to keep my head in the game.”
Tony crossed his arms, his eyes sharp as he took in the exchange. “Let’s get this over with, and then we can talk, Steve. About everything.”
Steve nodded, his gaze lingering on Peter for a moment longer. “We’ll get through this,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Tony stood a little straighter. “We will. But it won’t be easy.”
Peter had always been the glue that held the Avengers together, but now that glue was cracking. The trust issues, the lingering discomfort, the guilt—it all weighed heavily on him. But there was one thing he could count on, and that was Tony and Pepper. They stood beside him, unwavering, despite everything.
And maybe, just maybe, they could fix the fractures within the team.

Chapter Text

Happy Hogan had a routine. Every day, he waited outside Midtown High in one of Tony’s sleek cars, arms crossed, scanning the school entrance for Peter. The kid was supposed to come straight out when the bell rang, hop in the car, and be on his way back to the Tower. But today, the bell had rung minutes ago, and there was still no sign of him.

Something was wrong.

Happy checked his phone. No texts, no missed calls. He sighed, stepping out of the car. The uneasy feeling in his gut only grew stronger as the minutes ticked by. Peter wasn’t the type to run late, not without a good reason.

He decided to head inside.

The halls were mostly empty now, save for a few lingering students. Happy moved with purpose, scanning the area as he made his way toward Peter’s locker. He was just about to pull out his phone to call Tony when a sound stopped him in his tracks.

Muffled grunts. A scuffle. Water running.

Happy’s stomach dropped. He followed the sound down the hallway, rounding a corner that led to the boys’ locker room. The door was slightly ajar, and inside—

A group of boys. Laughing. Their backs turned to him as they crowded around something—someone.

Peter.

His heart pounded as he took in the scene. Peter was on the wet tile floor of the locker room, his back against the wall, his clothes soaked through. Flash Thompson and his goons had him cornered. One of them had Peter’s backpack in his hands, shaking out the contents, while another had Peter pinned beneath the steady stream of an ice-cold shower, his arms weakly trying to shield himself. His lip was split, bruises already forming along his cheekbone.

Rage flared in Happy’s chest.

“HEY!”

His voice was like a gunshot in the enclosed space, and the boys froze. Flash turned, eyes widening as he saw the furious man charging toward them. The other boys scattered like roaches, shoving past each other in their scramble to escape. Flash, for all his bravado, took one look at Happy and bolted, nearly slipping on the wet tile as he ran for the exit.

But Happy wasn’t concerned about them. He rushed to Peter’s side, crouching down.

“Kid—hey, Peter, can you hear me?”

Peter coughed, shivering, his eyes fluttering open. “H-Happy?”

Happy swallowed down his anger. “Yeah, kid. I got you. Let’s get you out of here.”

Carefully, he helped Peter up, wrapping an arm around the soaked teenager to steady him. Peter winced, his legs unsteady, but he didn’t protest. He just let Happy guide him toward the exit, away from the cold, away from the humiliation, away from the pain.

This wasn’t just bullying. This was personal. And as Happy led Peter out of the school and toward the car, he already knew one thing for certain.

Tony was going to lose it when he found out.

Back at the Tower, chaos erupted the moment Happy carried Peter inside. Tony and Pepper had been waiting, their expressions shifting from worry to outright fear when they saw Peter—soaked, bruised, and barely holding himself upright.

“Jesus, what the hell happened?” Tony’s voice was sharp, but there was a tremor beneath it. He was already stepping forward, reaching for Peter.

“Bullies,” Happy growled. “Flash Thompson and his little gang.”

Pepper inhaled sharply, her hands flying to Peter’s chilled face. “He’s freezing, Tony. He—he can’t thermoregulate properly, remember?”

Tony swore under his breath. He moved fast, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around Peter, guiding him toward the couch. “FRIDAY, get some blankets, now. And turn up the heat.”

Peter trembled under the weight of exhaustion and cold, his head lolling against the cushions as Pepper ran a hand through his damp curls. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, though his body betrayed him with another shudder.

Tony scoffed. “Yeah, sure, and I’m the Tooth Fairy. Kid, you’re practically an icicle.”

The rest of the team had begun to filter in, drawn by the commotion. Steve, Natasha, Sam, and even Bucky stood around, eyes flickering between Peter and Tony. But as soon as they took in the situation, the air shifted.

“He could have fought back,” Bucky said, arms crossed. His voice was gruff, almost detached. “I don’t get why he didn’t.”

Peter flinched, and Tony’s gaze snapped up, fiery and unforgiving. “Excuse me?”

“He’s Spider-Man,” Steve said carefully. “You’re telling me he couldn’t take down a few high school bullies?”

Peter clenched his fists in his lap, but he didn’t look up. The words stung more than the bruises.

“They were human,” Peter murmured. “I—I didn’t want to hurt them.”

Steve let out a bitter scoff. “So you just let them beat the hell out of you?”

There was silence, heavy and suffocating. Natasha sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “No one’s saying you should have hurt them, but Peter… you’re stronger than them. You didn’t have to just take it.”

Sam shook his head. “You made yourself a victim, kid. That’s not who you are.”

Pepper’s grip on Peter’s shoulder tightened protectively. “So what, now it’s his fault?” Her voice was sharp, dangerous.

Steve’s expression hardened. “It’s not about fault, Pepper. It’s about responsibility. If Peter can’t even stand up for himself, what does that say about him?”

Tony’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “It says he’s human, Steve.” His tone was ice. “Something you all seem to be forgetting.”

Steve pressed his lips together, but the damage had already been done. The divide between them was deeper now, the fracture widening with every unspoken accusation in the room.

Peter shrank back against the couch, feeling small despite his powers, despite the strength everyone seemed to expect from him. He had fought villains, saved lives, but in that locker room, he had been a scared kid. And no one, except Tony and Pepper, seemed to understand that.

The tension didn’t ease, not even as Peter’s shivering lessened, not even as Tony sat beside him, rubbing warmth back into his arms. Because this wasn’t just about Flash, or the fight he hadn’t had.

This was about trust. And how little of it was left.

Chapter Text

The air in the Tower was still heavy, thick with the unspoken tension from earlier. Peter sat curled up on the couch, his fingers absently picking at the edge of the blanket draped over his shoulders. He wasn’t shivering anymore, but the cold that had settled in his bones earlier had been replaced by something else entirely—a quiet, sinking feeling he couldn’t quite shake.

Tony stood near the bar, his fingers gripping a glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched. His jaw was tight, his eyes sharp and unreadable. Across from him, the rest of the Avengers loomed like a jury, still caught up in the argument from earlier.

Steve exhaled, crossing his arms. “Peter, I’m not saying what happened to you was right,” he started, his tone measured, as if he were trying to be reasonable. “But bullying has always existed. Back in my day, we didn’t have superpowers to fall back on. We had to fight our own battles, stand up for ourselves.”

Peter said nothing, his eyes fixed on a loose thread in the blanket. He could feel Tony tensing beside him, like a bomb waiting to go off.

Steve continued, undeterred. “You let them do this to you, Peter. And that’s what I don’t understand. You’re Spider-Man. You’re stronger than them. Faster. You could’ve stopped them without even hurting them, but you just—stood there.”

Peter clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into the fabric of the couch. He had already explained himself. He didn’t want to fight them. He didn’t want to scare them. He didn’t want to be the guy who used his power to hurt people just because he could. But none of them seemed to get that.

“You’re making yourself a victim,” Sam added, shaking his head. “And that’s not who you are. We’re not trying to be harsh, kid, but if you can’t stand up to some high school bullies, how can you stand up to real threats?”

Tony slammed his glass down on the bar with a sharp clink. “Are you all seriously listening to yourselves right now?” His voice was cold, edged with something dangerous. “The kid just got jumped, humiliated, and instead of offering him even a shred of support, you’re sitting here telling him it’s his fault?”

Natasha sighed, rubbing her temple. “We’re not saying it’s his fault, Tony. We’re saying he needs to be able to handle himself.”

“He is handling himself,” Tony snapped. “He’s handling himself better than half of you ever could. He’s not using his strength to bully back. He’s choosing to be better than them.”

Steve frowned. “Better? Tony, what’s better about letting people walk all over you?”

Before Tony could retort, Pepper stood up sharply, stepping forward. Her hands were clenched at her sides, but her expression was eerily calm—too calm. “Enough.”

Steve turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Pepper, this isn’t your—”

“Don’t,” she cut in, her voice dangerously low. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m just saying—”

“No. You’re not just saying anything. You’re belittling a kid who just went through something traumatic and acting like he should’ve been some perfect soldier about it.” She took a sharp breath, her hands shaking. “You don’t see him at all, do you?”

The room went silent.

“You see Spider-Man. You see some enhanced kid who should be able to take a few hits. But do you see Peter? A sixteen-year-old who just got humiliated, beaten, targeted by people he should be safe around?” Her voice rose now, years of frustration bubbling to the surface. “He’s not a soldier, Steve. He’s not some weapon you can mold into whatever perfect image you want. He is a kid. And he needed support, not a goddamn lecture.”

Steve’s expression hardened, and his blue eyes met hers with quiet disappointment. “Are you done?”

Pepper stared at him, something breaking in her expression. “Get out.”

The silence was deafening.

Steve scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re being emotional.”

“I am emotional,” Pepper shot back. “Because I actually care about him, unlike any of you.”

Sam sighed, running a hand down his face. “This is ridiculous. No one is saying we don’t care.”

“You are ridiculous,” Tony interjected, voice sharp. “You don’t care about Peter. You care about the idea of him. You care about whether or not he fits into whatever mold you’ve shoved him into.”

Steve exhaled, shaking his head. “We’re trying to help him.”

“No. You’re trying to turn him into something he’s not,” Pepper snapped. “And I won’t let you.”

Steve’s expression darkened. “You’re making a mistake, Pepper. Sheltering him isn’t going to make him stronger.”

“Maybe not,” Pepper said, voice unwavering. “But at least I won’t be making him feel worthless.”

Steve stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled sharply. “Fine.” He turned to Tony. “But don’t come to us when he gets hurt because he didn’t learn how to fight back.”

Tony smirked coldly. “Don’t worry. We won’t.”

One by one, the Avengers turned and walked out. Natasha cast one last unreadable glance at Peter before following the others. Sam muttered something under his breath. Bucky said nothing at all.

And then they were gone.

The Tower felt empty in their absence, but the tension still hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Pepper slowly sat back down, her head in her hands. Tony let out a sharp breath, rubbing at his temples.

Peter, still curled up on the couch, let out a quiet exhale. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Pepper lifted her head, her eyes softening. “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart.”

Tony flopped onto the couch beside him, shaking his head. “Well, kid, if you ever wondered who your real family is… guess you know now.”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

He knew.

Chapter Text

The Tower was eerily quiet after the Avengers left. The lingering tension still clung to the walls, but it was slowly being replaced by something else—relief. A bitter kind, maybe, but relief nonetheless.

Peter sat still, eyes fixed on the floor, as if trying to make sense of everything. It didn’t really make sense, though. Nothing about tonight did. He had looked up to them. He had fought beside them, risked his life for them. And in the end? They had walked away, disappointed in him for not being the person they wanted him to be.

Pepper let out a slow breath, rubbing at her temples. “I can’t believe them.”

Tony, sitting next to Peter, scoffed. “Oh, I can. Self-righteousness is their whole brand.” His voice lacked its usual sarcastic bite, though. He just sounded tired.

Peter swallowed hard. “Did I mess up?”

Tony turned to him immediately. “No. You didn’t.”

Peter hesitated. “But—”

“No.” Tony’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me, kid. You did the right thing. You didn’t use your powers to hurt people just because you could. That takes a hell of a lot more strength than throwing a punch ever would.”

Peter nodded, but the doubt still lingered in his chest. He knew he had done what felt right. But part of him still wondered—if standing there, taking it, had made him weak.

Pepper, sensing his thoughts, reached for his hand. “Peter, sweetie, just because you didn’t fight back doesn’t mean you let them win. You didn’t stoop to their level. And you never should have had to deal with that alone.”

Peter’s throat felt tight. “But I’m not alone,” he said quietly.

Tony squeezed his shoulder. “No, kid. You’re not.”

The silence stretched between them, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was warm. Reassuring.

After a moment, Tony leaned back against the couch, rubbing his face. “Alright, here’s the deal. We’re taking a break from the superhero club. If those guys wanna act like jerks, fine. We don’t need ‘em.”

Pepper smirked. “We’ve been carrying them on our backs anyway.”

Peter let out a soft chuckle, and for the first time that night, the weight on his chest felt just a little lighter.

Tony grinned, nudging Peter’s shoulder. “Besides, we’ve got more important things to focus on. Like getting revenge.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Wha—?”

“Not on the Avengers,” Tony clarified. “On Flash.”

Pepper groaned. “Tony, no.”

Tony held up his hands. “What? Just saying—maybe a little Stark tech accidentally makes its way into his locker. Maybe his car won’t start for the next six months. Who’s to say?”

Peter huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s... probably illegal.”

Tony smirked. “Only if we get caught.”

Pepper sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, she gave Peter’s hand a final squeeze before standing. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up and into some dry clothes.”

Peter hesitated, then nodded. As he stood, the exhaustion settled deeper into his bones. But it didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

He wasn’t Spider-Man to them. He wasn’t an Avenger. He was just Peter. And for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.

Tony watched them go, his smirk fading as the weight of the night settled over him. His grip tightened around his glass as he exhaled sharply.

If Steve and the others thought they could just walk away from Peter like that, then they had another thing coming.

Because Tony Stark didn’t forgive. And he sure as hell didn’t forget.

Chapter Text

The conference room was tense.

The Avengers sat around the sleek, circular table in the Tower’s war room, the faint hum of the holographic display flickering between them. Steve sat with his arms crossed, Natasha leaned back in her chair, unimpressed, and Sam tapped his fingers impatiently on the tabletop. Bucky and Rhodey remained quiet, watching the conversation unfold.

“So,” Steve said, his voice carrying that ever-present weight of authority. “Are we all in agreement? We move on this Hydra base tonight.”

A few nods. A few grunts of approval. The mission was set.

Then the door opened.

Peter walked in, his steps careful, hesitant. His eyes flicked around the table, taking in the familiar faces—the same ones that had abandoned him the night before. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his back straight.

Tony had told him he didn’t have to come. He’d told Peter he didn’t owe them anything. And maybe he didn’t.

But he still wanted to prove himself. Maybe to them. Maybe to himself.

“Parker,” Steve acknowledged, barely looking up. “You’re late.”

Peter opened his mouth to respond, but Natasha was already moving on. “Hydra’s been regrouping in an abandoned military compound outside the city. We go in fast, take out the servers, retrieve any intel, and get out before backup arrives.”

Peter furrowed his brow, stepping closer. “Wait, that compound? The one near the docks?”

Sam exhaled. “Obviously.”

Peter frowned. “But—that’s a trap. Hydra abandoned that site weeks ago. If they’ve suddenly moved back in, it means they want us to come to them.”

The table went silent for a beat. Then, Steve shook his head dismissively. “We know what we’re doing, Peter. You don’t need to worry.”

“But I am worried,” Peter insisted, stepping forward. “If you go in without scouting first, they could have reinforcements waiting. We should do recon before—”

“Peter.” Steve’s voice was sharp now. That condescending tone that made Peter’s stomach twist. “We don’t need you second-guessing our strategy.”

Peter’s mouth went dry.

Bucky sighed, rubbing his temple. “Let the kid talk, Steve. If he’s got concerns—”

“He doesn’t have concerns, Barnes,” Steve interrupted. “He has doubts. We don’t have time for that.”

Peter clenched his fists. “I just don’t want you all walking into a fight you’re not ready for.”

“Then maybe you should sit this one out,” Steve shot back.

Peter felt the sting of it, sharp and immediate.

Tony had warned him. He should’ve listened.

The discussion moved on without him. The team continued talking strategy, barely acknowledging his presence. He tried to speak up once or twice more, but every time, someone talked over him. Ignored him.

By the time the meeting ended, Peter wasn’t sure why he had come at all.

But he went anyway.

The mission was a disaster from the start.

The moment they breached the compound, the alarms went off. Hydra soldiers poured in from every direction, overwhelming them. Peter had been right—it was a trap. But no one had listened.

“Fall back!” Steve barked, swinging his shield as bullets ricocheted off the walls.

Peter gritted his teeth, webbing up two soldiers before flipping over a fallen Hydra agent. “I told you this was a setup!”

“Not the time, Parker!” Sam snapped, dodging a blast.

Peter’s stomach twisted in frustration, but he kept moving.

The fight dragged on longer than it should have. They were outnumbered, barely holding their ground. And Peter—Peter was everywhere. Swinging, dodging, taking hits meant for people who wouldn’t even listen to him.

Then he heard Steve’s voice crackle over the comms. “We need to cut them off—Parker, get to the south exit and web up their escape route.”

Peter was already moving. “On it.”

But as he reached the south end of the compound, another wave of soldiers emerged. Peter skidded to a stop, his heart pounding. “Guys—this isn’t just an escape route. It’s a reinforcement entrance! There’s more of them coming—”

Static.

“Guys?”

Silence.

He called again. Nothing.

His stomach dropped. They weren’t listening.

A blow caught him in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. He hit the ground hard, coughing. Another soldier grabbed him, yanking him up by the collar.

He fought back. Hard. But there were too many.

“Guys—!”

No response.

The comms weren’t down. He knew they weren’t. They were just ignoring him.

His vision blurred as another punch landed. Then another. The world spun, and suddenly, everything felt very far away.

Then—

BOOM.

A deafening explosion shook the compound, throwing Hydra soldiers off balance. Peter barely registered the impact before the ceiling groaned above them.

The team had set off their charges.

And Peter was still inside.

The last thing he saw before the debris collapsed around him was the exit—just out of reach.

Then—

Darkness.

Chapter Text

Smoke and dust filled the air as Tony and Rhodey pushed through the wreckage, their suits scanning for any sign of Peter. The building was barely standing, walls groaning under the weight of debris. Tony’s chest was tight, panic clawing at his throat.

“FRIDAY, scan for Parker!”

A beat. Then—

“Life signs detected. Fifteen meters ahead, buried under rubble.”

Tony surged forward, his repulsors blasting away chunks of concrete. Rhodey helped, shifting metal beams, their frantic movements kicking up more dust. And then—

A glimpse of red and blue. A limp hand half-buried in the wreckage.

Tony’s stomach dropped. “Kid?”

No response.

With a final heave, they cleared the last of the debris. Peter lay still, his body twisted awkwardly, his suit torn and scorched. Blood pooled beneath him, seeping from a jagged piece of rebar impaling his stomach.

Tony felt the world tilt. “Oh, God.”

Rhodey knelt beside him, pressing fingers to Peter’s pulse. “He’s alive—but he’s losing blood fast.”

Tony forced himself to move, hands trembling as he carefully lifted Peter into his arms. The kid barely weighed anything. His head lolled against Tony’s shoulder, blood staining the metal of the suit.

“We need to move. Now.”

The flight back to the Tower was a blur. Tony barely heard Rhodey calling ahead, his own mind screaming with every shallow breath Peter took. The second they landed, medics rushed to meet them.

Pepper was already there, her face pale, hands clasped over her mouth. When she saw the rebar jutting from Peter’s abdomen, she let out a choked sob.

“Tony—”

“I know,” Tony croaked, his voice breaking. “Cho—where’s Cho?”

Dr. Helen Cho was waiting, her team already prepping the med bay. “Get him inside. Now.”

They moved quickly. Tony followed as far as he could, but when they reached the operating room, Pepper grabbed his arm, stopping him. Her grip was tight, trembling.

“They’ll take care of him,” she whispered, as much to herself as to him.

Tony’s hands curled into fists, blood—Peter’s blood—streaking the metal. He wanted to scream. To break something. Instead, he forced himself to breathe.

And then the others arrived.

Steve. Natasha. Sam. Bucky. They strode in, looking grim, battle-worn. And the second they saw Tony, the accusations began.

Steve’s face was stone. “This is on you, Stark.”

Tony snapped his head up, disbelief morphing into fury. “What?”

“You left us,” Sam bit out. “Took your kid and bailed. We barely got out alive.”

Tony barked a hollow laugh. “You barely got out alive? Peter was buried. He nearly bled out under that damn building because you ignored him!”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “He shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

Tony saw red. “You told him to go! You gave him an order, and when he tried to warn you, you ignored him!”

Natasha folded her arms, expression unreadable. “He should’ve stayed out of the fight.”

“He was trying to help you!” Tony roared. “And you left him to die!”

Steve’s gaze didn’t waver. “We all have responsibilities. If he can’t handle that—”

Pepper moved before Tony could, stepping between them, fury in her eyes. “Stop it.”

Steve hesitated, but Pepper wasn’t finished. “None of you see it, do you? You don’t see him. You see a soldier. A tool. Someone to be trained, controlled. He’s a kid. And all he’s ever wanted was to help people, to prove himself to you.”

She turned her glare on each of them. “But you never listen. You push him aside. You treat him like he’s nothing. And now, when he’s lying in an operating room, fighting for his life, you still have the nerve to blame him?”

The silence was deafening.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Sam looked away. But Steve—Steve just sighed, shaking his head. “Pepper—”

“Leave.” Her voice was steel. “All of you. Get out.”

Steve stared at her for a long moment. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and left. The others followed, though Sam threw one last glance toward the med bay doors before disappearing down the hall.

Tony let out a shaky breath, running a bloodstained hand through his hair. His legs felt unsteady, his chest too tight.

Pepper exhaled. “He’s going to be okay.”

Tony swallowed hard. “He has to be.”

And together, they waited.

Chapter Text

The hours passed in agonizing silence.

Tony paced outside the med bay, his fingers twitching, fists clenching and unclenching as he fought to keep himself together. Every minute that dragged by without news felt like a blade twisting in his gut. But he wasn’t the only one unraveling.

Pepper sat on the edge of a chair, her face pale, her hands gripping the armrests so tightly her knuckles turned white. She wasn’t just worried—she was barely holding it together. Every time a medic walked past without saying anything, she looked ready to break.

Finally, she stood, her breath shaky. “I can’t—Tony, I can’t just sit here.”

Tony turned to her, his own panic mirrored in her eyes. He swallowed hard and took her hands, his grip tight, almost desperate. “I know,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Me neither.”

They barely had time to steady each other when the doors slid open. Dr. Helen Cho stepped out, her scrubs stained with blood—Peter’s blood. Tony and Pepper both went rigid, their breath catching as they searched her face for anything—any sign of hope or devastation.

“He’s stable,” Cho said, and both of them nearly collapsed. Pepper covered her mouth with a trembling hand, her eyes glistening. Tony let out a shaky breath, squeezing her hand so tightly she knew his own strength was the only thing keeping him standing.

“But it was close,” Cho continued. “The rebar missed major arteries, but there was significant internal bleeding. We repaired what we could, but he’s weak. His body’s been through hell.” She hesitated. “He’ll need time.”

Tony nodded stiffly, but Pepper wasn’t satisfied. “Can we see him?” she asked, her voice raw.

Helen hesitated, then gestured toward the door. “Only for a few minutes.”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

Inside, the room was quiet except for the steady beeping of machines. Peter lay pale and still against the stark white sheets, an oxygen mask covering his face, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. His suit had been cut away, replaced by bandages and IV lines snaking into his arms. He looked too small in the hospital bed, too fragile.

Pepper let out a choked sound, pressing a hand to her mouth. Tony felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He reached for her, and without hesitation, she clung to his arm, both of them leaning on each other as they stepped closer.

“Hey, kid,” Tony murmured, his voice rough, unsteady.

Peter didn’t respond, but Tony hadn’t expected him to. He reached out hesitantly, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the bed. “You scared the hell out of us, you know that?” He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Not that you ever listen.”

Pepper let out a shaky breath, squeezing Tony’s arm. “He looks so—so young,” she whispered. “Too young for this.”

Tony swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

The room felt too big, too empty. He hated it.

Tony leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I don’t care what they say. This wasn’t your fault. None of it. You were trying to do the right thing, like always.” His voice wavered, and he let out a shaky breath. “I should’ve been faster. I should’ve—”

Pepper reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. “Stop. You did everything you could. And Peter knows that.”

A weak, barely-there movement caught their attention. Peter’s fingers twitched against the blanket.

Tony sat up straighter, eyes locked onto the small motion. “Pete?”

A slow, painful blink. Then, the faintest murmur: “M-Mr. Stark…?”

Tony let out a breathless laugh, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. “Yeah, kid. I’m here.”

Pepper’s grip on Tony tightened as Peter’s eyes barely opened, hazy and unfocused. “S-sorry…”

Tony’s throat tightened. He shook his head, reaching out to grasp Peter’s hand, careful not to disturb the IV. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

Peter’s lips quirked upward, just a little. “Did we win…?”

Tony huffed out a laugh, even as his eyes burned. “Yeah, kid. We won.”

Peter exhaled softly, his body relaxing slightly. His eyes fluttered closed again, exhaustion pulling him back under. Tony didn’t let go of his hand.

Pepper wrapped both arms around Tony’s, resting her head against his shoulder. She didn’t speak, just held on, and for once, Tony let himself lean into her, drawing as much comfort as he gave.

“He’s going to be okay,” she whispered, almost as if she needed to believe it herself.

Tony pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his free hand covering hers. “Yeah,” he murmured. “He has to be.”

And together, they waited, holding onto each other, unwilling to let go.

Chapter Text

Peter woke up to the soft beeping of the heart monitor and the distant murmur of voices. His whole body ached, but the pain wasn’t as sharp as before. His vision was blurry at first, but as he blinked a few times, the world slowly came into focus.

Tony was slouched in a chair beside his bed, arms crossed, looking utterly exhausted but still alert. Pepper sat beside him, her hand resting on Tony’s, their fingers intertwined. The warmth in her eyes made Peter’s chest feel lighter.

“Hey, kid,” Tony said, his voice softer than usual. “Decided to stick around, huh?”

Peter managed a small smile, though his throat was dry. “Yeah… figured you’d miss me too much.”

Tony let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “You got that right.”

Pepper leaned forward, brushing Peter’s hair back gently. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Peter licked his cracked lips. “Like I got hit by a building.”

Tony smirked. “Well, you kinda did. But Cho says you’re healing up faster than expected, so I guess you’re still our little overachiever.”

Peter let out a breathy laugh, then winced as a dull ache shot through his side. “Guess I got lucky.”

Pepper smiled but exchanged a quick glance with Tony, something unreadable passing between them. Peter noticed, his brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Well, we, uh—Pep has something to tell you.”

Peter turned his head toward Pepper, who was now practically glowing. She squeezed Tony’s hand before looking at Peter, her voice soft but full of warmth. “We wanted to wait until you were awake to tell you… but, Peter—you’re going to be a big brother.”

Peter’s eyes widened, his mind struggling to process her words. “Wait… what?”

Pepper laughed, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m pregnant, Peter. Tony and I are expecting.”

For a moment, Peter just stared. And then, a grin—one of the biggest, brightest smiles Tony had ever seen on the kid’s face—spread across his lips. “No way! Are you serious?”

Tony chuckled, running a hand down his face. “Yeah, kid. Dead serious.”

Peter’s heart swelled with excitement, the aches and pains momentarily forgotten. “I—I’m gonna be a big brother?”

Pepper nodded, squeezing his hand gently. “You are. And I know you’re going to be the best big brother ever.”

Peter let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is—this is insane. But—it’s amazing.”

Tony leaned forward, ruffling Peter’s hair. “Yeah, well, I figured you could use some good news for once.”

Peter beamed up at both of them, his eyes shining with happiness. “This is the best news ever.”

Pepper laughed, and Tony rolled his eyes, but there was nothing but warmth in his expression. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no fear, no dread—just a room filled with love, relief, and the promise of something wonderful ahead.

And as they sat together, Peter couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Peter’s recovery was slow but steady. With each passing day, he regained a little more strength. Tony and Pepper were constantly there, making sure he had everything he needed, and—if he was being honest—probably babying him a little too much. Not that he minded. It was nice to feel so cared for, especially now that he had another big role to step into.

A big brother.

The idea still made Peter’s head spin, but it also filled him with excitement. He wasn’t just Spider-Man anymore—he was about to have a little sibling to look out for. And he was determined to be the best big brother ever.

As Peter recovered, the Tower slowly transformed. What was once a sleek, state-of-the-art headquarters was now becoming… baby-proofed. Tony, of course, went all out. He upgraded security protocols, installed AI-assisted baby monitors, and even started designing a high-tech crib that had more features than some of the suits in his workshop.

Pepper, on the other hand, took a more practical approach. She focused on picking out furniture, tiny clothes, and figuring out how to balance a baby in the middle of their already chaotic lives. She often brought Peter into the planning, showing him different onesies and nursery themes, and he loved every second of it.

“Okay, Pete,” Pepper said one afternoon, laying out fabric samples on the couch. “What do you think? Soft pastels, or something bolder?”

Peter, curled up under a blanket, still healing, grinned. “I think bold. It’s a Stark baby. They should have a room that makes a statement.”

Tony smirked from where he was working on yet another baby gadget. “That’s my boy.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Alright, bold it is.”

Peter felt a warmth in his chest. This was happening. It was real. He was going to have a little sibling, and they were all in this together.

One evening, as the nursery started to take shape, Tony and Peter sat on the floor, assembling furniture—or, rather, Tony was trying to, while Peter offered "helpful" commentary.

“Are you sure you don’t want FRIDAY to do this?” Peter teased as Tony struggled with a particularly stubborn crib piece.

“Nope,” Tony grunted. “This is a rite of passage, Pete. Every dad has to suffer through assembling a crib.”

Peter smirked. “And every big brother has to sit back and watch.”

Tony shot him a look but then softened. “You excited?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I really am.”

Tony’s expression turned more serious, but there was a deep pride in his eyes. “You’re gonna be great, kid. You already are.”

Peter swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “Thanks, Tony.”

As the days passed, excitement filled the Tower. There was still so much to do, but for the first time in a long time, things felt… good. Happy.

And as Peter lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but smile. He had a family. A real, messy, chaotic, wonderful family.

And soon, it would be getting just a little bigger.

Chapter Text

Morgan Stark had officially arrived, and the Stark household had never been the same since.

The tiny three-month-old was already ruling the Tower with her big, bright eyes and soft giggles. She had Tony wrapped around her little finger, Pepper absolutely glowing with love, and Peter? Peter was completely smitten.

It was a peaceful evening, the family gathered in the living room. Pepper sat comfortably on the couch, cradling Morgan in her arms while Tony lounged beside her, looking completely at ease. Peter was stretched out on the floor nearby, his head propped up on his hands as he watched the little bundle in Pepper’s arms with fascination.

Morgan cooed, waving her tiny fists in the air, and Peter chuckled. “Hey, kiddo,” he said softly. “You having a good time there?”

Morgan let out an excited babble, her little legs kicking. Peter grinned. “Yeah? You got a lot to say, huh?”

Pepper smiled, adjusting Morgan so she could see Peter better. “She definitely likes talking to you.”

Morgan’s happy babbling suddenly faded, her expression shifting as her big eyes locked onto Peter’s face. Her bottom lip trembled, and within seconds, she was giving him the saddest, most pitiful look he had ever seen.

Peter’s eyes widened in panic. “No, no, no, don’t cry!” he blurted out, sitting up quickly, waving his hands as if that would somehow stop the incoming meltdown.

Tony and Pepper burst into laughter. Tony smirked, shaking his head. “Oh, kid, you are so doomed.”

Pepper grinned. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger already.”

Peter huffed, but the second he reached out and carefully picked Morgan up, she immediately stopped. Her teary eyes disappeared, replaced with a content expression as she nuzzled into his chest, letting out a soft sigh.

Peter blinked. “Wait… that’s it? You just wanted me to hold you?”

Morgan let out a tiny giggle, grabbing onto the front of his hoodie. Then, before Peter could react, her small hand found his hair, and she gave it a surprisingly strong tug.

“Ah—hey!” Peter yelped, wincing as Morgan kept a firm grip on his curls. But when he glanced down at her, she wasn’t crying—no, she was glaring at Tony and Pepper, all while sucking on her thumb like she had just won some grand battle.

Tony snorted. “Oh, she’s got an attitude. I love it.”

Pepper shook her head, amused. “She’s definitely your daughter, Tony.”

Peter groaned but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as Morgan settled against him, her tiny hand still gripping his hair. “Alright, alright, I get it. You win, squish.”

Tony smirked. “Get used to it, Pete. She’s in charge now.”

And honestly? Peter didn’t mind one bit.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before the Avengers came knocking.

The call had come first—Steve, his voice stiff, asking to see Morgan. To see Peter. It was framed as concern, but Tony could hear the unspoken weight behind it: a demand more than a request. And Tony? Tony wasn’t having any of it.

“No,” he had said simply, offering no further explanation before hanging up.

But the Avengers, as always, didn’t take no for an answer.

When the elevator chimed, Tony already knew who it was. Standing in the lobby of the Tower were Steve, Natasha, and Sam, their expressions unreadable but their presence heavy with expectation.

Pepper stood firm beside Tony, Morgan cradled in her arms, her tiny face nestled against her mother’s shoulder. Peter lingered behind them, feeling the tension roll off Tony in waves.

Steve was the first to speak. “We just want to talk.”

Tony crossed his arms, unimpressed. “We already did that. Months ago. Didn’t like what I had to say then, either.”

Natasha scoffed. “We’re not here for you, Stark.” Her gaze flickered to Peter. “We’re here for him.”

Peter tensed, but Tony stepped forward, his stance protective. “No. He isn’t. Not to you.” His voice was dangerously quiet. “Not anymore.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Stark. Stop acting like you own him.”

Steve’s lips curled into a sneer. “You’re turning him soft. We trained him to be a soldier, not some coddled brat.”

Pepper’s grip on Morgan tightened, fury flashing in her eyes. “He’s not your soldier.”

Steve scoffed. “That’s funny, coming from you. You never wanted him around in the first place. Now you act like he’s family?”

Peter flinched at that, and Tony saw red. “Get out.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “You think you can just isolate him? Keep him away from the people who actually made him what he is?”

Tony took a step closer, his voice low and lethal. “You didn’t make him. You used him. And when he was buried under that rubble, when he was bleeding out, where the hell were you?”

Steve shrugged. “People get left behind all the time. He should’ve known better.”

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, his heart hammering. He had expected coldness, maybe indifference—but this? This was a cruelty he wasn’t prepared for.

Pepper turned, her voice sharp as steel. “You will never come near my children again.”

Natasha smirked. “Your children?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Please. Morgan is Stark’s kid. Peter is just the stray you took in.”

Peter recoiled as if he had been slapped. But before he could react, Tony pressed a button on his watch, and the security system flared to life. The glass doors behind the Avengers slid open.

“That’s your cue,” Tony said coldly.

Steve glared, but after a tense beat, he turned and walked out, Sam and Natasha following.

The doors shut behind them, locking with an audible click.

Peter exhaled slowly, shoulders slumping. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.

Tony turned, placing a reassuring hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You okay, kid?”

Peter swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah. I just… I don’t get it. Why now?”

Pepper pressed a kiss to Morgan’s head, sighing. “Because they think they still have a say in your life.”

Tony squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “But they don’t.”

Peter looked between them—at Tony, at Pepper, at the tiny bundle in Pepper’s arms. And despite the tension still hanging in the air, he felt… safe.

They had each other. That was all that mattered.

And the Avengers? They were nothing more than ghosts in the past.

Chapter Text

The days after the confrontation with the Avengers were quiet. Too quiet.

Peter tried to ignore it. He told himself it didn’t matter, that their words meant nothing. But they had burrowed deep, festering like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

Just the stray you took in.

People get left behind all the time.

You’re turning him soft.

The words looped in his head, twisting into something ugly. He barely slept. He barely ate. Tony and Pepper noticed, of course—they always noticed—but he waved them off, forced smiles, muttered reassurances that he was fine.

He wasn’t.

He felt like a burden.

Like dead weight they had to carry.

One night, long past midnight, he found himself in the Tower’s living room, staring blankly at the city lights beyond the glass. The city never slept. It was alive, moving, breathing. Unlike him. He felt frozen. Stuck.

A quiet noise behind him made him turn. Tony was there, dressed in sweatpants and an old AC/DC shirt, looking exhausted but alert.

"Knew I'd find you here," Tony murmured, walking over. "You're not as sneaky as you think, kid."

Peter forced a smirk. "Guess I need to work on that."

Tony sighed, sitting down beside him on the couch. "You wanna tell me what's eating you, or do I have to pull out the dad voice?"

Peter tensed at that. Dad. He wasn’t sure if Tony meant it literally or if it was just an offhand joke, but either way, it made something in his chest tighten.

"It’s nothing," Peter said, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

Tony didn’t call him on it. Instead, he just leaned back, staring at the city alongside him. “Y’know, I used to think silence was a good thing,” he said after a moment. “Thought it meant everything was under control. But then I learned that silence usually means someone’s suffering and doesn’t know how to say it.”

Peter swallowed hard. His fingers curled into his sleeves. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted quietly.

Tony didn’t push. Didn’t force it. He just nodded. “Alright. Then just sit here with me for a while.”

And Peter did.

It didn’t get easier. Not really. But he tried.

And then the letters came.

The first one was slid under the front door, written in Steve’s familiar, neat handwriting. It wasn’t an apology. It wasn’t an attempt at reconciliation. It was worse.

Peter,

You’re making a mistake. Stark is filling your head with lies. You were one of us. You had a purpose. You can still come back. But if you keep letting him manipulate you, you’ll be nothing.

We trained you to be strong. Don’t let him make you weak.

You know where to find us.

Peter had read it once. Then twice. His stomach churned.

Weak. They still thought he was weak.

More letters followed. From Natasha. From Sam. Each one pushing, digging, trying to make him doubt.

He tore them up, but the words stuck.

Pepper found him pacing one evening, breathing uneven, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. She didn’t ask—just walked over, wrapped her arms around him, and held on.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered into her shoulder, his voice shaking. “I don’t know why this is messing me up so much.”

Pepper tightened her hold. “Because they hurt you,” she murmured. “And because you still care.”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, his chest aching. “I don’t want to care.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Pepper whispered. “I know.”

Tony found the letters in the trash one night.

Peter hadn’t told him. Hadn’t wanted to make a big deal out of it. But when Tony stormed into his room at 2 AM, holding the crumpled papers in one furious hand, Peter knew that plan was shot.

“They’re still messing with you?” Tony’s voice was quiet, but his rage vibrated beneath it, sharp and deadly.

Peter sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

Tony scoffed. “Not a big deal? They’re trying to manipulate you, kid. Again.”

Peter swallowed. “I know.”

Tony’s expression softened just slightly. “And it’s getting to you.”

Peter wanted to deny it. Wanted to be stronger. But he couldn’t lie—not to Tony. “Yeah,” he admitted hoarsely.

Tony sighed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “I’m gonna handle this.”

Peter sat up straighter, alarmed. “Tony—”

“No,” Tony cut him off. “No more of this. They don’t get to do this to you.”

Peter hesitated. “I don’t want you to make it worse.”

Tony’s gaze softened. “I won’t. But I’m not letting them hurt you anymore.”

Peter exhaled shakily. “Okay.”

Tony reached out, squeezing Peter’s shoulder. “You’re not weak. You’re not a mistake. And you’re not alone.”

Peter bit his lip, nodding. “I know.”

And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe it.

The next morning, as Peter sat in the kitchen picking at his cereal, a soft babbling noise caught his attention. He looked up to see Morgan in her onesie, crawling determinedly toward him with a bright grin.

"Hey, munchkin," Peter murmured, scooping her up onto his lap.

Morgan squealed happily, patting his face with her tiny hands before grabbing a fistful of his hair. "Pee-tah!"

Peter grinned despite himself. "Yeah, that’s me."

Pepper walked in, looking amused. "She’s been looking for you all morning. She wouldn’t stop fussing until I told her you were here."

Tony, pouring himself a coffee, smirked. "She’s got you wrapped around her tiny finger, kid."

Peter huffed. "Not true."

Morgan, as if to prove them right, pouted up at Peter with wide, watery eyes.

Peter panicked. "No, no, don’t cry—"

Morgan immediately let out a dramatic sniffle, and Tony and Pepper burst into laughter.

Peter groaned. "I’m doomed."

Morgan, satisfied with her victory, giggled and rested her head against Peter’s chest, happily sucking her thumb. Peter sighed, holding her closer, and for the first time in days, the weight on his shoulders didn’t feel quite so heavy.

Chapter Text

It began with a press conference.

Pepper Stark—CEO of Stark Industries, mother, wife, and widow of legacy—stood in front of the UN, the global council, and every major media outlet with a calm fire behind her eyes.

Tony stood beside her, hand in hers. They were married now, rings gleaming under the spotlight, a united front with a baby at home and a son still healing.

And the world was about to burn.

Pepper’s voice echoed clearly:

“The Avengers were trusted with the safety of the world. But what happens when heroes become tyrants? When they manipulate, abandon, and gaslight those they swore to protect?”

A screen behind her lit up with evidence. Footage. Documents. Audio. Surveillance clips. Leaked orders.

All proving the same truth: the Avengers had gone too far.

The list was long. The crimes were real. The world couldn’t look away.

“They left a minor bleeding under rubble and never looked back. They lied. They covered it up. And then they had the audacity to blame him for surviving. To guilt him for being human.”

Pepper's voice cracked, but she didn’t stop.

“This is not justice. This is not heroism. This is failure. And I won’t let them hurt anyone else—especially not my family.”

Behind her, the screen filled with images of Peter in recovery, bruised and broken. Of Morgan’s birth. Of Tony holding his daughter with pride and grief in equal measure.

The crowd watching outside the UN building erupted.

What followed was wildfire.

BREAKING NEWS: AVENGERS FALL FROM GRACE

"Pepper Stark Reveals Heroic Cover-Ups, Manipulations, Abandonment of Minors, and Global Violations"

"Public Riots Erupt Across Nations: 'Lock Them Up!' Echoes in Streets"

"Full List of Crimes Released: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes Under Investigation"

"UN Responds to Public Demand – Avengers Placed Under Arrest Pending Immediate Transport to Raft Prison"

The footage went viral: masses flooding the streets with signs, smoke rising in the distance as tear gas failed to hold the fury of the betrayed public. Murals of “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” were defaced, torn down, painted over with red paint and the word LIARS.

People screamed.

And the UN listened.

That night, Peter watched from the couch, Morgan bundled in his arms as she chewed on a stuffed bunny. Tony was nearby, shirt sleeves rolled up, holding a bottle. Pepper stood in the center of the living room as the news continued to pour in.

Steve. Sam. Natasha. Bucky. All captured.

Rogers didn’t resist—but his face was blank, hollow. Wilson tried to speak to the cameras and was shouted down. Romanoff spat at the ground, saying they were being used. Barnes stared at the floor, silent.

No more gear. No more shields. Just shackles.

The Raft closed behind them with a mechanical slam that was broadcast live.

And the people cheered.

Peter’s voice broke the silence.

“…She really did it.”

Pepper walked over and kissed the top of his head. “We did it. You survived them. I exposed them. Tony kept this family together. We all did it.”

Tony raised his glass. “To justice. Real justice.”

Peter gently adjusted Morgan in his arms as she gave him the “sad stare,” lips wobbling.

“Oh no, not the face, not the—okay, okay, don’t cry.”

Morgan instantly giggled, reaching for Peter’s face. Tony and Pepper laughed.

“She’s got you wrapped around her finger,” Tony said smugly.

“Yep,” Pepper smiled. “Just like her father.”

Peter groaned as Morgan tugged his hair and glared dramatically at Tony like she was already practicing sass.

Tony smirked. “Takes after her mom, clearly.”

Pepper winked. “That’s how I took down the Avengers.”

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sunlight spilled across the soft rug of the living room, casting long golden beams that danced across toys and storybooks scattered across the floor. The air smelled like fresh cookies and faint traces of lavender — peaceful, warm, and deeply lived in.

Tony sat on the floor, his back resting against the couch, Peter curled up beside him with a book half-open on his lap. Pepper lay stretched out across the couch behind them, her legs tucked under a blanket, her head resting on a pillow, eyes following the newest Stark with a gentle, sleepy smile.

Morgan Stark, 7 months old, was on a mission.

She crawled across the rug with laser focus, her tiny diapered bottom wobbling, hands slapping the soft surface as she made her way toward a very precarious block tower Peter had proudly built only minutes earlier.

“Uh oh,” Peter whispered dramatically, watching her inch closer. “Tony, we’ve got movement. Target's approaching. I repeat — the baby is inbound!”

Tony didn’t move. He just smirked and sipped from his coffee mug. “You built it too close to her warpath. That’s a rookie move, kid.”

“No, no, no—Morgie!” Peter called playfully. “Not the tower!”

Morgan paused, sitting up on her chubby legs, blinking wide-eyed at Peter’s voice.

Then she squealed.

With a delighted shriek, she launched forward—one hand outstretched like a tiny wrecking ball—and flattened the tower in a spectacular crash of blocks.

“Mission accomplished,” Tony muttered with a laugh.

Pepper chuckled, covering her mouth as Morgan proudly plopped herself down in the center of the chaos, clapping her hands. She looked up at her big brother with a gap-toothed grin, babbling something incomprehensible but enthusiastic.

Peter shook his head, smiling. “You're lucky you're cute.”

She answered with another squeal and a triumphant face plant into a plush toy.

Pepper reached down and scooped her into her arms, pressing a kiss to her soft brown curls. “She’s growing too fast.”

Tony leaned back further and rested his head on Pepper’s leg. “She’s just getting started.”

Peter crawled over and sat beside them, leaning gently against Tony’s shoulder. “This is nice.”

“It’s everything,” Tony murmured. He reached up and took Pepper’s free hand, their fingers lacing together naturally.

Outside the window, the lake shimmered in the sunset. The world was still spinning — fast, loud, complicated. But here, in this little bubble of love and safety, it didn’t matter. They’d faced war, betrayal, heartbreak.

And still, they had this.

Morgan babbled in Pepper’s arms, reaching her tiny hand out toward Peter again. He leaned in and let her tug on his hair like always, laughing as she gave him the same stern baby-glare she’d perfected.

“She really does have you wrapped around her little finger,” Pepper teased.

Peter shrugged, grinning. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The room fell into soft, content silence. The family held close, tucked into one another, hearts beating steady and full.

Together, they were home.

And that was more than enough.

Chapter Text