Chapter Text
Peter was born to a good family, he knows. He remembers his dads hands running through his hair, he remembers the sand and the sun reflecting off of a polished floor. He would dance in the living room and his dad would cheer him on.
But then he had mom and he doesn’t know how to move on from that. So he doesn’t, he lives his life, he fights crime and Newyorkers have his back. It’s a delicate balance of getting enough food to help those around him.
This morning is a rough wake up, he becomes aware of someones hands in his hair, someone who smells like body odour. But that’s normal, comforting almost.
“Wake up spidey.” They say softly with a voice that only ten packs of cigs a day could form.
Peter launches up, inadvertently ripping himself away from Emilys gentle touch, “Oh”. His heart is pounding and he’s sweatier than usual. Remnants of his dream are still front and centre, his mom pushing him into a wall, screaming at him. How his body was winding tighter and tighter with panic, like he was gonna explode.
“Mornin’ Pete, looks like you had a rough un.” Emily says carefully.
Peter looks to her and it’s a grounding sight, with her salt and pepper hair and deep crows feet. “Good morning Emily.”
They’re sitting in his makeshift ‘room’, really a slightly sheltered area of the warehouse. Home. He can hear many conversations quietly taking place in the large building. Mostly friendly, one slightly bickering.
“Well, I’ll let you get to it spidey.” Emily says with a smile, shes only missing one tooth really, shes still quite pretty. He knows she doesn’t show this soft under belly to many people. It’s not worth it when you’re a homeless woman, she learnt to lose her soft lilt and speak like she has a dagger in her belt.
Peter likes to think she’s safer now that he’s here. That they all are. His makeshift family of sorts.
He can’t do anything about the drug use except steal sterile needles from the hospital and learn as much as he can in the library about overdoses. But not all of them were that far gone.
Speaking of which, he hears a quiet sobbing breath from a couple ‘rooms’ over. Getting up carefully he puts ‘Peter’ and ‘Peters problems’ to the back of his mind.
Gently pulling back a faded red curtain Peter finds Simon curled up in his sleeping bag gently sobbing.
“Simon?” Peter whispers just loud enough to be heard.
“Pete?” Simon replies. “Sorry I know it must be annoying to always hear me.” He says scratching his arms in his sleeping bag.
“Hey, hey.” Peter says reassuringly, plopping himself over Simons shaking form. He gently stills Simons hands, grasping them through the thin sleeping bag. “You’re not annoying. Far from it.”
He spends the next fifteen minutes, talking through Simons coping mechanisms and reminding him that he’s okay, he’s safe.
Something about life in the warehouse is that Spiderman lives closer to the surface, it’s an open secret in their underground world and he gets to help each and every homeless person in Queens in one way or another. In turn they look out for him.
The morning is bright as he makes his way to the diner a block over.
When Peter walks up to the counter of his local he makes his presence politely known. Knowing the process needs to be as fast as possible.
“Usual?” Laura asks briskly.
Laura knows him and he knows her. He always pays in exact change and rushes through his food so that he doesn’t gather unwanted attention for the business. He learnt early on that his body doesn’t survive on anything less than protein and high carbs.
When Peter settles into a booth he notices a pretty girl, she looks about his age, has wavy hair and a no nonsense expression as she catches him looking. He drops his gaze fast but listens in as a boy across the booth from her rambles on about lego.
Laura unceremoniously drops a plate of bacon and pancakes in front of him. Always two extra pancakes than what is on the menu. He smiles at her back as she walks away.
“What is that smell?” The boy asks suddenly.
“Shut up loser.” The girl says through gritted teeth, eyes not straying over to where Peters sitting.
From the way the boy yelps, and the scuffing sound from under their table, Peter knows the boy got a good kick for being oblivious.
Peter smiles slightly into his bacon, before trying to tune them out and scoffing down his breakfast. He needs it if he wants to keep his fast healing and metabolism from draining him dry in a scary fast process.
The next morning finds him back at the diner. Laura greets him as usual and he makes his way to ‘his spot’, the most tucked away booth. He quickly notices that the girl is back, this time alone.
While he waits, he feels her gaze on his face but doesn’t make the mistake of looking today.
Soon comes a plate heaped with eggs, bacon, sausages and toast. “Thanks Laura.” He mumbles before tucking in.
Still the prickling feeling of the girls gaze. He doesn’t really know what to think, had rumours travelled? Did she know who he was? He can’t think of any other reason a pretty girl like that would be looking at him. He had washed himself as best he could in the public toilets this morning, had hoped he smelled a little less. His clothes can’t be helped much though.
He’s inhaling his last sausage when the girl makes a move, sliding into the booth across from him.
“I think I know who you are.” She blurts out, voice monotone.
Peter whips his head up, “Okaaay, well it’s good to meet you, do you need help?”
The girl frowns at him, “My names MJ.”
“uhum.” Peter tries not to give his name out willy nilly.
“And yours is Peter Stark.” She continues, as though she has him thoroughly sussed out.
Peter coughs on his last bite. “Excuse me?”
“Do you not know?” MJ asks, eyes calculating.
“Um I think you have the wrong guy.” Peter says, getting up to leave somewhat rudely.
She slides out behind him. He had been planning to go back to the warehouse but can’t lead a girl like this there. “So you don’t know. No one ever mentioned it to you before?”
Sure he knows who Peter Stark is, everyone does. Tony Starks beloved son who was kidnapped age four and whom a man hunt has never really relented on finding.
Peter spins on the side walk to a stop and stares at her. “Why do you even think that?” He asks incredulously, slightly offended.
Offended that she would even assume a homeless boy who is nothing to anyone outside of spiderman would be a billionaires son. Someone so treasured and sought after and never forgotten. No Peter had been forgotten the day his mom died of a tumour and he had skipped out on CPS.
If someone were looking for him, really looking. They’d have fucking found him.
“Have you seen the age progressions?” MJ asks suddenly.
Peter closes his eyes, “Do you think I have access to a tv?” He asks earnestly.
“Right.” MJ sounds slightly abashed, “There are age progressions, you look exactly like him.”
“Right.” Peter replies, opening his eyes to stare at her balefully. “So you think I’m Iron Mans son. Do you see how insensitive that is? To try and get to the hopes up of a hom-boy like me when every little boy grows up worshiping Iron Man?” He doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed, he doesn’t normally get annoyed at all.
“Listen, we can get this worked out in just a couple hours.” MJ says, not budging.
“MJ, look, you shouldn’t even be speaking to me, do you know how dangerous it is to talk to strangers? You’re a young lady and I could be anyone.”
“First of all you’re Peter Stark, not ‘anyone’. And secondly do you think girls should keep to themselves and keep their mouths shut?” MJ challenges, heat lighting up her eyes.
“No, it’s just I’ve seen how unsafe it is. I live it. It’s not just because you’re a girl.” Peter backtracks, quite frankly wondering how he got into this conversation.
MJ purses her lips, looking up and down the street before grabbing Peters arm and trying to drag him down the street. Of course it would be nothing for Peter to break free, but he finds himself a little too shocked.
She’s silent as she marches him to the closest subway station.
“Hey now.” Peter protests finally. “I can’t exactly pay for a ride and I’m not really down for hopping.”
She turns a steely gaze on him. “I have plenty of change.”
Peter swallows, hit not for the first time with how insurmountable things for him are just ‘change’ for normal people.
Somehow he lets her drag him through the subway system and sits him down next to her. A couple a few seats away get up. Peter feels his cheeks heat, and looks instead to MJ.
“So where are we going?” He asks.
MJ turns to him, “No.”
Peter can’t help but laugh, “So you’re just stealing me away in broad daylight, you know how this looks right.”
MJ narrows her eyes and looks back up at the advertisements.
The ride isn’t too long, as they exit the platform, her hair puffs up in the wind the train leaves in its wake and Peter finds this very distracting. She really is very pretty. Maybe that’s why he’s not protesting too much, or maybe because his spidey sense is blissfully calm.
They walk a few blocks before Peter twigs to what’s happening. “No.”
“Yes.” MJ grabs his forearm again.
“MJ we can’t just trot on in and say oh hey this homeless guy is totally not looking to scam his way into money.” Peter says exasperated.
“Is that how you think of yourself?” MJ asks, stopping in the middle of the busy street.
“It’s what everyone thinks of me.” Peter says with a roll of his eyes.
“Peter, or what ever you go by. You’re a kid, people probably think, how the fuck has a kid with eyes that innocent ended up in a situation like that?” MJ purses her lips again, tugging him back into the flow of pedestrians.
Peter frowns to himself and somehow lets her lead him all the way to the front steps of Stark Industries. “Seriously I’m not going in there, one whiff of me and security will have me apprehended.”
He doesn’t have any tingle so doesn’t expect it when he’s bodily shoved into the revolving doors, it’s tight with her at his back and he tries to revolve them straight back out but she’s surprisingly strong and he doesn’t want to hurt her.
So that is how he finds himself standing in the middle of the squeaky clean Stark Industries lobby.
“Excuse me?” MJ calls, grabbing the collar of Peters shirt and trying again to drag him. God she’s handsy.
The receptionist looks up, eyes widening at the pair. She discreetly pushes some form of button, Peter hears it click. “Yes?”
“Does this kid look like Peter Starks age progression photos or what?” MJ asks boldly, finally shoving Peter against the reception counter.
“Hello mam, I really am sorry about this, MJs just a little carried away, aren’t you MJ?” Peter finishes through gritted teeth.
The receptionist looks him up and down, obviously assessing his unhoused appearance first. “Well we have lots of kids who vaguely look like the progression photos.”
MJ sighs. “Look at his face.” She leans over and brushes Peters fringe up, surprisingly gentle.
The receptionists expression changes minutely.
Before anything more can be said a big guy with a goaty comes out from the elevators to the right. He briskly walks over, eyes taking in the scene. “Alright, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
“I told you MJ.” Peter says, voice pitching up in tone.
“Wait Happy, look at him.” The receptionist requests suddenly.
Happy looks confused but does as asked, coming closer and drinking in the sight of Peter Parker. It takes a moment but then he’s coming closer and pushing up Peters dirty fringe.
“You look just like Peter.” Happy says after a long silence.
“Great, well it’s been a pleasure Peter.” MJ says abruptly, moving to back away.
“What!” Peter turns out of Happys grasp, pleading MJ to not do exactly what she’s doing, to not leave him alone in this weird ass situation.
“If you need me I go to Midtown.” MJ says, already turning the revolving door.
“What am I supposed to do with that information!” Peter yelps, trying to follow her.
“Kid. Seriously come back here.” Happy calls, stepping forward.
Peter freezes, looking back at Happy.
“Just let us try and work this out? Alright kid?” Happy asks.
“I really- I don’t think I’m actually Peter Stark.” Peter says, eyes wide and betraying a little fear.
“Who are you then kid?” Happy asks gently.
“Just er, Peter Parker.”
Happy keeps a straight face, almost, a sight widening of the eye and raising of the brow. “Okay well Peter, it’d put an old mans mind to rest if you come get checked out with me.”
Peter can’t help but laugh, “You’re not old.”
Happy smiles, somehow it feels rare. “Sure, come on then kid.”
Peter can’t help but follow, everyone seems to be making a big deal about this. If he can just, well, put their minds to rest he can go back to life like normal.
“So kid, who are your guardians?” Happy asks carefully as they ascend in the lift towards the medbay.
Peter stares at him, first trying to come up with a lie and then just stares. Surely he knows.
“Right.” Happy replies, looking uncomfortable. “And you live here in New York?”
Peter side eyes him now, facing the doors. “Yeah.”
“Right.” Happy seems to be at a loss for words and Peter, well Peter usually yaps a mile a minute but he finds himself feeling perturbed.
It’s not until he’s sitting on an unusually soft hospital bed with a swab being placed into his hand that he balks. “No, I can’t do a DNA test.”
“What?” Happy looks bewildered. “How’dya think it was gonna go kid?”
“I didn’t think, I was practically dragged here, and then I thought maybe there’d be a questionnaire or? I don’t know!” Peters panic begins to climb, this is a sure fire way of having Spiderman exposed.
“Okay- okay kid, calm down.” Happy says carefully. “How bout we talk about it first.”
“Just talk?” Peter says suspicious.
“Just talk, till you feel ready.” Happy sits down on the armchair beside the bed. “What are your earliest memories?”
Peter knows, and he realises they might be condemning. “I lived with my dad.”
“Right.” Happy encourages.
“He was really nice, I have really happy memories before I went to go live with my mom.” Peter says, scrunching and unscrunching the diner receipt that he had in his pocket.
“When did you move to your mom?” Happy asks.
“I’m not sure, around six?” Peter replies.
“How old are you?”
“Oh er seventeen.” Peter tells the damning truth, he might be sneaking out of here with the CPS back on his tail.
“Look a little young for 17.” Happy casually notes.
“Sure, I have a baby face.” Peter allows.
“What happened to your mom? Where is she?” Happy asks hopefully.
“I’m not talking about that.” Peter is stubborn on this topic.
“Riight, okay. Well those memories with your dad? Anything stick out?” Happy asks.
“Well we lived by the beach, no where near here, it was really nice. And he’d get me Mr Whippy with gummy bears but I was really bad for dropping them, that’s why I got my first pair of glasses.” Peter says softly.
“Peter.” Happy whispers. “You wear glasses kid?”
“Er, I used to, had a really bad prescription.” Peters chuckles to hide his nerves.
“Any, er physical illnesses?” Happy prods, looking a little strange now.
Peter stares at Happy for a long moment. He feels compelled to tell the truth. “Asthma.”
Happy closes his eyes. “Feel like taking a DNA test yet?”
Peter shifts, “No?”
“Right.” Happy says. “Let’s try something else. I’m just gonna step outside, got a call to make quickly.”
Peter squints at him.
“Nothing shady, promise!”
“Okaaay.” Peters panic watches him leave, he only steps a little away from the doors and Peter listens intently.
“Hey boss.” Happy says carefully.
“Yea right, well you’ll wanna hear this. Got a code kid.”
“Wait don’t get too worked up, he hasn’t done a DNA test.” Happy sounds like he’s waiting for a good telling off.
“I can’t make him, look he really lines up, everything he says he remembers. Well fuck Tones, it seems legit.”
Peter stiffens, he’s telling Tony Stark. He really believes this! Happy is coming back into the room but Peter is staring unseeing. This can’t be true, it literally can’t.
“Peter?” Happy is waving in front of his face.
Peter gulps, focussing on the worried face in front of him “I think you got the wrong kid Happy, I’m really sorry.”
The door opens again, if Peter could go stiffer he would.
“Hi.” Tony Stark voice comes from behind him. “Er, wanna look at me kid?”
“Think he’s a bit shocked.” Happy says helplessly.
Peter for his part is still staring at Happy, until a different figure swaps places with him and suddenly he’s looking at Tony Stark in the flesh. And he’s so familiar but he’s a familiar face to the whole god damn world.
“Hi Mr Stark.” Peter whispers.
“Hi kid, Happy says you’re not willing to do a DNA test.” Tonys face is so earnest, he’s just looking at Peter, really looking at him. With hope hidden in his eyes and a small reassuring smile gracing his lips.
“No-no” Peter stutters, suddenly less sure.
Tony sits himself right up next to Peter on the edge of the bed, “How about we have a chat first?”
“Right.” Peter says, shifting slightly and looking over to where Tony Stark too is looking out the windows. Without the full force of his attention he calms down slightly.
“Happy tells me that you remember having a dad.” Tony says lightly. “Can you tell me about him?”
“Well I don’t have a tonne of memories but they’re all- they’re all great. I really loved him and he, I don’t think anyone ever made me feel that safe again.” Peter says truthfully, he just lets it all tumble out because he never gets the opportunity to talk about his beloved father. “He would always take me so seriously.” A slight giggle breaks out. “Even though I know I was probably being really stupid.”
“Babies aren’t stupid.” Tony interrupts.
“Right well, I was silly right? But he always made me feel so clever.”
“My Peter was very clever.” Tony says softly.
Peter risks a glance, but Tony is still not looking at him.
“I have this one memory, my dad, he loved AC-DC and I would dance to it in our big bright living room and he would just cheer me on like I was the best dancer in the world.” Peter remember how perfect life was, just briefly, while he had his dad.
A beat of heavy silence. “Do you remember what he looked like?” Tonys sounds off.
“No,” He suddenly feels choked up. “I don’t remember, I don’t remember what he looks like or smelt like or anything and I remember forgetting and how sad it made me- I just -I can’t help it.”
Suddenly he’s being pulled to the side until his head is tucked under Tonys chin, “Oh Petey pie.” He says wetly, fingers running through Peters hair.
Suddenly Peter is four, he’s a big boy but he feels so much like a baby because he dropped his ice-cream again but his dad has him bundled on his lap and his long fingers are running gently through his hair.
Peters heart stills, “Daddy?” he whispers.
Tonys arms become a vice, “Yes Pete, daddy.”
Peter can’t help it, he just falls apart in his fathers arms.
Tony rocks them back and forth for what feels like forever, “What happened to you.” and “My baby.” repeated in whispers.
Once their heartbeats have calmed, their breathing is even and the rocking has stopped, Tony pulls back.
Peter grabs fistfuls of his fathers t-shirt but looks up into the absolute adoration in Tonys gaze.
“Where have you been?” Tony asks. “Right here in New York?”
“Er Queens, just you know.” Peter trails off.
“Peter, who has been -looking after you?” Tony asks carefully, suddenly steely in his gaze.
“She’s dead.” Peters face crumples again.
At this Tony seems to take in the rest of him, the unwashed hair, the faint body odour, the dirty clothes. He’s the first person to see ‘Peter’ before ‘homeless’. The realisation must be a hard one, if the way his eyes gather with tears says anything.
“you’re home now Peter, everything can be sorted later okay?” Tony takes a breath. “I just need you here. To put it to bed could you please take a DNA test?”
Peter takes a steadying breath. This is Iron Man. And spiderman? He’s respectable, people love him, surely his own dad? “Okay.”
Tony smiles before calling the nurse to bring back the swabs.
“First though, it might tell you something about me. How I’m enhanced.” Peter feels his hands lightly shaking.
Tonys eyes widen impossibly, “How?”
“A mutant spider bite on a school trip?” Peter says hesitantly.
“Right, of course. Okay come on then spider boy, let’s do the test.” Tony says, accepting the swabs and encouraging Peter to do the test.
Once the test is done and sent off for analysis Tony asks for details. “So, spider bite, how old were you?”
“fifteen.” Peter picks at the blanket under him and tries not to worry about the DNA results.
“This year?” Tony asks, brows raised.
“Huh? No I’m seventeen!” Peter looks to Tonys disbelieving face.
“Nu uh, you’re definitely not. Not surprised if you were able to skip a couple grades though.” Tony replies thoughtfully.
“Boss the results are conclusive, Peter is in fact Peter Stark.” The ceiling suddenly announces.
“Thank you Friday.” Tony replies taking a steadying breath. “Peter you’re 15, you were taken from me by force at 4 years old and you are finally home and you will be safe.”