Chapter Text
It has been a week since Apocalypse was defeated and in that time period, nobody has had a decent night's sleep. With rebuilding Xavier's School to shaking the news reporters off their tail, everyone residing at the castle-like mansion had been busy. Well, Jean and Erik had been doing all the work, but everyone else was contributing the best they could. It only took until the end of the week for the school to be rebuilt. To say that the school itself looked amazing would have been an understatement, as many new features were added inside and out. In addition to the new rooms that were added for future kids and classrooms, Xavier's School now held the "Danger Room." The "Danger Room" could only be described as a battlefield, serving for training new students, or more importantly, the "X-Men."
It wasn't until after listening to Raven's speech, which he gladly ignored, that Peter was finally able to run. Peter had spent a week, a very long and slow week, in a cast. While that didn't sound very bad, it felt like hell to Peter, a very boring hell might he add. And if that wasn't enough, his leg still felt like shit, but it's not like he'll ever admit it. He has a reputation to keep, thank you very much. So here he was, running and weaving past fallen debris of sentinels, (God knows how Hank got his hands on those) and moving (yes moving) his fellow teammates out of harm's way.
Time slowed for everyone and to Peter, that felt great! To feel the rush of the wind on his face, to see everybody freeze was amazing, not to mention the bright, pretty beam of red light that was a little too close to him. Wait, what? As the situaton finally clicked in his head, Panic flooded within Peter and he did the only thing he could think of. Stop.
A blinding flash appeared before Peter as a searing hot pain erupted on his recently-healed leg. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! He crashed and rolled on the ground before landing ungracefully on his back. "Owwww...," Peter moaned as he lifted himself onto his elbows. Lifting his head, Peter met the worried stares of his team. Shit, better hurry and get up. Brushing himself off, Peter rose to his feet. "It's okay guys, I'm alri-" Or at least tried to.
"PETER!"
"Shit, Pete, I'm so sorry-"
"Oh my gosh, is your leg okay?!"
Peter barely felt the various hands and arms help him up until Raven spoke up. "Yea, that's enough training for now." What?! "Nononono, I'm fine, promise!" Peter strained a smile. So much for his pride. The only response was being pushed towards the door of the elevator. "Go to Hank's lab. Now. He'll meet you up there." Raven's tone held no room for any comments. It was now that Scott spoke up. "Do you need any help go-" Peter cut him off with, "Nah, I can manage," and pushed the button to the main floor.
The journey to Hank's lab was excruciating and slow and it bored the hell out of Peter. Again. The muttering curses and complants were the only thing accompanying him in the empty hallways, or at least he thought they were empty.
"I suggest keeping those words to yourself, there are children here you know."
Suprised, Peter tripped on his own feet, (or foot since instead of limping, he was just hopping on one foot), and rushed to meet the polished floorboards. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist and hauled Peter into his feet before he could met his destination. Peter quickly untangled himself from his savior's arms and jerked his head into their direction. "Jeez, what the hell man, Are you trying to give me a heartatta-"
Brown met blue .
Peter was staring right at Erik Lehnsherr. Peter was staring right at his father. Well, Fuck.