Chapter Text
For Peter, everything had been moving so fast. With Tony’s near-death and ongoing recovery, with adjusting to life at the compound, and with processing what the heck had happened.
He had been gone for five years, and his mentor, the Tony Stark had figured out time travel to bring him and everyone else back. It was insanity! Impossible! But of course, it wasn't. For the avengers, finding the impossible was actually possible was their average Tuesday, but this was still a little excessive.
Mr Stark had originally been in and out of consciousness, and hadn't spoken very much, which made perfect sense. The man was lucky he had only lost his arm, so Peter had spent most of his time at the compound sitting at Mr Stark's bedside; or in ‘his’ room next door.
Apparently Mr Stark had reserved him a room in the compound, despite him refusing an official Avengers position, and despite the whole blip situation. It was totally unexpected, but it was just like Mr Stark to be prepared for anything, of course. It couldn't possibly be anything else. His usual preparedness. Not grief or guilt or despair.
In his time at the compound, Peter had also gotten to know Pepper Potts, as well as, more briefly, her daughter: Morgan Stark. The young girl was excitable and inquisitive, but with Peter still healing as well, the young girl had initially been prohibited from jumping all over him like she had first when first meeting him. Apparently she recognised him from photos and stories, and Ms Potts had explained how Tony had spoken about him to her. Of course, Peter took the information normally and didn't shed a single tear. Of course. Obviously.
That was a lie. He had teared up in front of Ms Potts, then cried like a baby at a sleeping Tony’s bedside, only for the man to suddenly become responsive at such an embarrassing time. Peter almost jumped out of the window when he felt a grounding hand on his shoulder in a room alone with a man supposed to be well asleep.
But Tony was healing now, and Morgan was visiting more, becoming closer and closer with Peter. Mr Stark had resumed his story times with Morgan, who each time (very enthusiastically), asked specifically for "Spider-man! Spider-man!". Peter was ecstatic that his mentor painted him in such a positive light, despite Mr Stark giving him a knowing glance with each exaggerration.
He was healing, and every waking moment when Morgan wasn't there, Tony and Peter were working on a prosthetic arm for Tony, who wasn't exactly pleased with his new lack. The man couldn't just be happy he was alive. He was a complainer at heart, and everyone knew it.
Peter slept in the room next door now, instead of at Tony’s bedside, but he still heard Tony and Pepper talking at night; the perks of super senses and all. The man felt fragile. Weakened. Despite his saving of half the population and Pepper’s reassurances he didn't seem too pleased with his current state. Which is when Peter had stayed up all night drafting a blueprint for the prosthetic.
However all good things come to an end, so came forth the dreaded conversation.
“Now that you're healed, and I'm healed...well, enough, I've been speaking to Aunt May, and she's ready to take you back in!” Tony spoke with a lilt of falsified optimism and a too-wide smile.
That was odd. Why hadn't she been ready before? Surely it was nothing. Peter should just wait and..nope he was asking.
“She wasn't ready before?”
Tony’s smile faltered.
“Look, kid. A lot happened during the blip, and she's…found another partner. And he has daughters and a good job and they've moved away from your…old apartment. Some classy place- still in New York! But…different. They wouldn't accept any help from me either; apparently the new guy insisted.” Tony’s explanation sounded almost like a rant, dumping all the information he had gathered on the new May all in one.
Peter supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. May didn't have Ben anymore, and she didn't have Peter for five years. He shouldn't have expected her to be alone for all that time…
“So I'll…go back to her..?” Peter sounded sadder than he’d have liked, but he hated the idea of leaving Mr Stark. He supposed he couldn't burden the man forever.
—
Tony was happy to be with Peter and Happy on the car ride over. Peter was animatedly talking about all things science, mostly to do with Tony’s new arm-in-the-making, seemingly to distract himself from the worry he felt at the thought of meeting 'the new May'. Tony had assumed, at least.
He had known Peter a while now, and knew a lot of his ‘tells’. The kid had been blinking an abnormal amount, and twiddling his fingers intermittently. However Tony would allow the boy his distraction for the moment, and ask if the nerves were worth it next time they saw each other.
They arrived in what felt like no time, the modernised apartment building looming over the two heroes (and Happy).
“Want me to walk you up?” Tony felt like he’d be intruding if he didn't ask first. And asking turned out to be worth it, Tony getting to see Peter’s very enthusiastic nod, the boy's eyes now as wide as ever.
They walked up together, Tony following Peter who completely ignored the elevator. It was longer, and Tony’s knees ended up aching (perks of getting older), but it was worth it to hear Peter talk happily for a little while longer. After a heartfelt goodbye, Happy decided to wait with the car to give the two some time to say goodbye.
Eventually the two arrived at the apartment, Peter stepping aside to allow Tony to ring the doorbell.
The person who answered confirmed Peter’s worst fears. It was a man. Ring glistening on his left hand. May had found another.
She had always insisted she would never move on from Ben. Was it a lie? Despite hearing from Mr Stark about the man and his daughters, he hasn't fully believed it. Surely May couldn't have…
But she had.
She had.
Peter's stupor was interrupted by a hand sitting firm on his shoulder. At first, he assumed it was Mr Stark, a hand-on-the-shoulder being the man’s go-to for reassurances, but it wasn't. It was him. And he had his other hand out ready to be shook.
Peter reached forward, deciding to be polite and, not noticing his slightly-too-firm-for-a-scrawny-teenage-boy grip, shook the man’s hand.
“Whoo- got quite the grip there, Pete! I'm Skip Wescott. Call me Skip.” His smile was wide, revealing a majority of the 32 teeth Peter assumed the man had, each glistening brighter than a polished pearl. His eyes were wide but flat; not quite right.
Peter averted his gaze, not wanting to make assumptions based on the man’s looks, but Tony kept observing. Stiff posture, a practiced handshake he pulled from a little too quickly, and voice a higher octave than necessary; almost as if he was…intimidated, maybe?
May knew Peter was Spiderman by now, but had she really told this other man? Peter wouldn't be happy with that.
“May is out shopping with the girls, so it's just us for a minute!” The man continued his mockery of a smile to Peter, before turning to Tony, “You can leave us now; we’ll try and skip through the awkward stage before May gets back!” Another quick chuckle at his own ‘joke’ as he continued to stare at Tony, very ready for the man's departure.
Tony, however, planned to retort, before he saw Peter’s look to him. A small, determined smile graced the boy's face, and encouraged Tony that, after all, 'He was Spiderman! He'd be fine.'
There was a sigh from Tony, then a hug and goodbyes and promises to visit, and Tony was gone, slipping something into Peter’s pocket as he left.
Peter ignored it for now, not wanting Skip to see whatever it was. Instead he waved Tony away as the man turned the corner to the elevator.
There was an immediate shift when Tony turned the corner. Skip’s face looked almost exhausted, and the smile, although still there, held a ghost light of the enthusiasm from the prior interaction.
“He's already fed you, right?” Even Skip’s voice sounded duller than before.
“No… well I had lunch but the drive was really long.” He found his voice was quieter than intended. Come on, Peter! You were supposed to be sizing up the man, not cowering away–
“Hm. Well we've already dinner eaten as a family, so just tell May I whipped you up something." it was then he turned on his heel and ventured past the house's doorway.
Peter was stunned for a moment, shocked by the dismissive response, but he didn't want to fight back. He was Spiderman. He could wait till morning to eat.
He followed in behind Skip, who was standing outside a closed door, looking at Peter expectantly.
“We used this as a storage room, but since we didn't exactly...expect your coming back it's still sort of full. We put a bed in there and you can put any belongings to the side.” He made it sound like a crappy motel room than a teenage boy's bedroom.
Peter hesitantly glanced up at Skip before opening the door. The room would have already been small without the boxes towering up up up the sides. The only thing other than cardboard boxes was a folding camp bed, with a flattened pillow and thin duvet.
It was winter, so Peter couldn't help but internally criticise the setup. He supposed he couldn't blame them; it wasn't like they expected everyone to come ba-
“I know it's not what you're used to after living with that fancy pants Stark but you should learn to appreciate what you're given, Einstein. I heard you were pretty smart; hope you'll put that brain to use.”
Nope. He'd absolutely blame Skip. He disliked the man already. However he had still already decided he'd keep his head down until he had solid proof of the man’s spiteful nature. Surely then May would hear him out. He couldn't wait to see her! He didn't want to get into trouble before then; or ever, really.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you what?”
“Thank you…Skip?”
“...sir.
“Sir.”
“Thank you, sir…”
“...thank you…sir.”
It was official. He hated the man.