Chapter Text
It wasn’t even a full day before Peter grew restless, stuck in the hospital bed. The doctors all wanted him there for at least a few more days. Frank, suddenly a mother hen, wanted him there for a week and more. In the end, Peter left that afternoon. And if he grew a little winded and had to lean against something every few yards because the pain in his chest grew too intense, it was better than just laying in a sterile, white room day after day. Besides, he was tired of being poked and prodded and having to shove on the mask every time a nurse came in. It still had the coppery smell of blood staining it.
But while Frank let him leave the hospital he refused to let Peter go home. No, he insisted that Peter come back to his place so he could babysit him and make sure he took his pills and shit and quote “doesn’t roll over and die like a pansy.” It was honestly touching how much the grumpy man cared. A week ago he probably wouldn’t have, but a lot had happened since then. Hell, Frank even admitted that they were friends, another impossible feat. It was nice to have a friend again after so long. How long has it been now? Four years? To be honest, Peter had stopped paying much attention to time as it flew by. He went to his community college classes, clocked into work at a crappy dinner, did patrol for hours, slept only a couple hours, and then repeated the whole thing. The only thing that marked a change in time was his weekly visit to see May and bring her flowers, but even those melded together. To be honest, he wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what month it was. He was pretty sure it was October… maybe. It just didn’t matter anymore.
Frank doesn’t let him patrol. Frank doesn’t let him go to class. Frank doesn’t let Peter go to work. In fact, he goes so far as to call the diner and tell them straight up that Peter won’t be coming in for a while. He got fired. Surprisingly, Peter isn’t that worried about that part. Sure, he needs the money to pay for rent, and food, and basically everything needed to live, it right now that doesn't matter. Maybe it's the pain meds making him feel this way. Before he’d left they’d pumped him with a shitload of the stuff, way more than necessary for a normal human but when has he ever been normal? At times like these, he misses the special pills Dr Banner and Dr Cho worked so hard on for him and his abilities. Maybe when these drugs burn off reality will come crashing back in and he’ll be properly stressed about his financial situation. But right now, Peter is tired. It took a lot out of him to simply leave the hospital. When Frank met him outside after distracting the crowd, he’d found Peter bent over in a dark alley and had practically carried him to his van.
So here he is now, laying on the punisher’s surprisingly comfortable bed, struggling to keep his eyes open. The meds are making it nearly impossible, causing him to become drowsy and content. It's an odd feeling to be so relaxed after being constantly on edge all the time, especially in the recent days. Even his Spidey sense is quiet for once. Peter doesn’t even notice when he drifts off.
When he wakes hours later, it’s to shouting.
Disoriented, his sensitive ears struggle to pick out the sounds, taking in too many at once to properly differentiate between them. Everything is too loud, too much. The pain medication has worn off and left him with a nasty headache. From what he can tell, Frank is there and he’s yelling at someone at the door. How they got through all of the booby traps Frank has set all around the shipyard, Peter doesn’t know, but it’s impressive seeing as how he didn’t hear them trigger a single one.
Groaning, Peter slides his legs off the side of the bed, sitting up and stretching his sore muscles. After checking that his bandage was still clean, he pulls on the soft sweatshirt that Frank lent him. It's too big and Peter finds he rather enjoys the feeling of being cocooned in the gentle fabric. It makes him feel small and surprisingly, it’s a good feeling.
His borrowed clothes are soft, the bed is warm, and his senses are feeling slightly overloaded. It's Frank’s house, he can handle any guests himself. It's none of his business who’s here to see the Punisher. Peter is about to roll over and try to go back to sleep when he hears him. It's like a shock to his system. Every sound is suddenly crisp and clean and he can hear every word, every ragged inhale and frantic heartbeat. He feels hot and cold and numb all over. He feels like somebody just shot him again, straight through the heart. And suddenly, he's fourteen years old again standing in his old apartment, because the voice he hears is Tony’s.
Tony Stark is… Mr Stark here at... Ironman found…
Then, the panic comes.
FUCK! Fuck fuck fuck fuck no!! No no no this isn’t supposed to happen! He can’t be here!
But Tony isn’t alone. Peter can also hear the entire team with him. The avengers have found him.
Peter is hyperventilating. He knows he needs to calm down, to think this through. There had to be a logical explanation for this, right? Right? And then it hits him- his logical explanation. They’re not here for him. They’re here for Spider-Man. Spider-Man, their buddy who has teamed up with them on occasion in the past. Sure he’s avoided them like the plague for the past four years but they probably heard about his accident and wanted to check on him like the pals they are. The avengers are heroes, this is something they’d do, right? Because there is no other explanation. Spidey gets hurt, they show up. Point a meet point b.
Peter focuses his hearing again, this time focusing on the actual words said.
“Where is he?” Tony. God it hurts to hear his voice after so long. The last time he’d heard him was on the battlefield at the compound when they’d fought Thanos again. Peter had just found him after searching the battlefield and they’d had maybe two minutes together. Then he was gone, pulled back into the fight. Then, the snap happened and he’d lost him to a coma. A fucking coma that had kept them apart for ages.
Pepper had been nice and let him visit, but Peter had been scared. He’d hated seeing Tony so weak, and so he’d avoided him. His visits slowed down with him mumbling excuses about homework and patrol every time Pepper tried to reach out. It was just too hard. Peter now wanted to strangle himself for that. Now, he’d give anything to be able to be so close to his mentor, whatever condition. Peter hasn’t seen him since he stopped going. His last visit was just before his trip to Europe and that was only because May had practically begged him to go say goodbye.
The worst part was, Tony had woken up just days after the spell had been cast. No one remembered to tell Peter. He had to learn it from the morning news just like everybody else. Just a one minute clip about the hero retiring to be with his family and that was it. Nothing big, no celebrations, just a casual topic briefly mentioned during rush hour. Peter had climbed up a billboard and cried. The only time he’s heard Tony’s voice or seen his face these past few years has been on the news, impersonal and cold. He clung to those fleeting clips like a life preserver in a storm. The current Tony, it seems, loves his privacy. He’d gone away to his cabin home to be with his wife and child. He hardly makes any public appearances and has embraced retirement.
So after so long apart, it’s shocking to hear his voice again so close. So real. And by the sound of it, he isn’t leaving until he finds Spider-Man.
“We tracked him from the hospital here, now where is he?” Tony is sounding increasingly annoyed.
“There ain’t no one here but me.” Frank growls.
“Don’t bullshit me, Castle. We know you took him.”
When Peter hears the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked, he knows he can’t hide in bed forever. Grabbing his mask from the side table where Frank left it, he slips it on over his head. The mask is all he bothers with, content to stay in the oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. Taking a deep breath to clear his nerves, Peter makes his way through the narrow halls towards the front door.
The avengers notice him first. They’re all gathered around, pressed in in a defensive formation. Even when in regular clothes, their formidable presence is never diminished. Frank, who has his back to Peter, looks completely unbothered by their threatening form. He stands in a bathrobe, guns in hand, toe to toe with Tony who looks like he's about to have an aneurism. When they see him, their stances change immediately. They relax, looking relieved, almost happy to see him. He can tell they’re all studying him too, probably looking him over to see what shape he’s in after being shot.
Peter is immensely glad they can’t see him through the mask. He’s able to stare openly at them and they don’t know where he’s looking. His eyes stay mainly on Tony, drinking him in and studying his face. He looks tired and has more gray hairs than Peter remembers there being.
Tony, whose focus had been fully on yelling at Frank, notices him then too. He stops mid sentence, his expression going from pissed to shocked in seconds. He stands there, staring, looking like he doesn’t know whether or not to stay where he is or rush forward. He looks like he’s about to say something when Frank turns around, face annoyed.
“Ahh, you kiddin’ me with this? You woke the kid with your pissy little arguing.” Frank takes a step towards Peter, looking him over. “You okay kid?”
“Frank, I’m fine.” Peter insists, allowing a little annoyance into his tone. “What's going on?”
“What's going on is these clowns show up, demanding to see you. I tell them to kick rocks and they go and disturb your rest.” Frank frowns. “Did you remember to take your meds?”
“Seriously Frank?”
“Hey I wouldn’t have to remind you if you’d do it yourself.”
“Yes, I took them.” Peter lies.
“Aw, don't bullshit me, kid. You can’t lie for shit.” He reaches into his bathrobe pocket and pulls out one of the many pill bottles the doctors prescribed. “Here. You need some water with that?”
“I’m fine.” Peter accepts the pills. “Why do you have them on you?”
“Stop your whimperin’ and just take the damn pill.”
To get him off his back, Peter peels his mask up, careful to show as little as possible, and swallows the pill. “There. Happy?”
“No. Go back to bed, I’ll deal with these self-righteous pricks.”
The avengers, especially Tony, start to move in, having been listening to the whole exchange, already protesting.
Peter sighs. Time to get this over with. “Don’t worry Frank, I’ve got this. It's fine.”
“You sure? Cause I can send ‘em packing. They’ve got no right to be here.”
“Actually I think we’ve got every right.” Tony interjects.
“Pipe down.” Frank flips him off and Peter is shocked Tony doesn’t blast him then and there.
“I’m sure, Frank. Please?” Peter insists.
Frank gives him a hard look. “Fine. Have at 'em.” He steps aside hovering in the back while Peter makes his way up front, standing in front of the avengers, his old friends. This is the closest he’s been to any of them besides Bruce in years. And they’re all here, Tony, Bruce, Steve, Natasha, Clint, and even Thor. They have a mix of expressions ranging from shock, concern, and guilt. There’s an awkward moment when nobody says anything.
Peter clears his throat nervously. “So um, I’m alive.” He does jazz hands awkwardly.
“We heard you got shot. Are you okay?” It's Steve who finally speaks, the others are oddly quiet, especially Tony who keeps staring at him, face pale.
“Yeah, should you be standing?” Clint adds, looking worried. He’s such a dad.
“Oh now you’re concerned.” Peter hears Frank mutter behind him.
“No, yeah I’m fine. I’ve got super fast healing so I’m good.” He glances around at them. “I’m sorry, was there something you needed? Is there a mission because-“
“You ain't doing shit, kid. Forget about it.” Frank says.
“-I can probably help out if you really need me to.” Peter finishes, ignoring Frank.
The Avengers look confused, then guilty.
Tony finally steps forward hesitantly. “Peter, we didn’t come for a mission. We came to see you.”
“Oh. Thanks. That was nice of you. I’m fine though, you didn’t have to…” Peter freezes as his words register. “What did you just say?”
“We’re here for you?” Tony repeats.
“ N-no before that.”
“Peter?” Tony says softly, his eyes shining with tears and familiarity. He knows.
Peter stumbles back a little and Frank reaches out a hand to steady him. “You- you remember? How? Wha- when?”
“A couple days ago. When you got shot.” Natasha’s ever-steady voice cracks on the words.
“It all came back, kid.” Tony takes a hesitant step forward.
Peter looks around at them, overwhelmed. His breathing is coming in shallow gasps. Frank might be talking to him but all he can focus on is Tony. Tony who knows him like nobody else.
“Mr Stark?” He croaks out of habit. And then he’s stumbling forward into his mentor. Though they’ve only had one other hug, his arms are familiar. They're safe and warm and something Peter never thought he’d experience again. Tony's arms wrap around him and he holds him so tight. Like he’ll never let go.
Then he’s crying, and he thinks Tony might be crying as well, and he’s pulling off his mask. Tony leans back just a bit to see his face and look him in the eyes. He’s studying Peter with an expression of love and guilt, and shock.
“You grew up.” His words are a little disbelieving and they have Peter crying again, burying his face in Tony’s shirt. Tony only holds him tighter. “Hey, hey. I’ve got you, underoos. I’ve got you.”
“I’m sorry.” Peter sniffles.
“Listen to me, you have no reason to be sorry. Alright? You didn’t do anything. We’re here and we’re gonna fix everything.”
But his words, meant for comfort, only cause Peter pain. Because Tony is wrong. He doesn’t know anything. It's all Peter’s fault for what happened and there’s no fixing anything, especially May. He might heal, he might learn how to cope, but there’s no fixing.
“Roos, you've gotta tell me what's going on.” Tony says desperately when Peter doesn’t respond. “Talk to me.”
Peter pulls back, his sobs under control. He wipes his eyes and nose, not caring about dirtying Frank's sweatshirt. He has to pull himself together. He’s twenty two now, not the same little kid they remember. He’s supposed to be able to do this on his own. He’s supposed to be better than this, stronger than this, not fall apart the second he sees a familiar face and gets a hug. Only, right now Peter is tired. He’s so tired of getting out of bed every morning. He’d tired of living in a crappy apartment with a broken heater. He’s tired of skipping meals so he can afford rent, or May’s weekly flowers. He’s just so tired of being alone.
So he tells them.
Well, he tells them some of it. He censors the version they get, cutting out the worst stuff. They don’t need to know how for the first year alone, he cried most of the time (still does sometimes). They don’t need to know about his skipped meals and desperate budget cuts. They don’t need to know that unless he’s serving a table or fighting as Spider-Man he doesn’t talk unless he has to. And they also don’t need to know that he’s mutated again.
Don’t get him wrong, Peter has accepted that his powers have changed, and with that his body, but he’s still not entirely comfortable with it being public knowledge, especially with the Avengers. These are his idols. He’s still shocked that Tony noticed him when he was nothing. How would they react to black eyes and webs coming out of him? What would they think if they knew he still struggled with control sometimes? He’d barely managed to control it when fighting Jean but that was the first time. Before that, it had taken him over, making him dangerous. So no, until he knew more and could control it, There’d be no telling the Avengers. He’d just be careful whenever he saw them. He could do that.
“I’m going to kill him.” That was Tony’s reaction when Peter finished his story with a lame ‘and that's pretty much it.’ after glossing over the whole Jean situation and being shot.
“I am going to murder Strange.” Tony declares, and the rest of the Avengers don’t look in a hurry to stop him. Frank for his part nods begrudgingly like he’s about to join him.
“Woah woah, hey. Nobody is killing anyone. It's not Stephen’s fault. I asked him to do the spell. It was my own fault.” Peter jumps in. Tony raises a brow at him saying ‘Stephen’ but says nothing. “Yes, some bad stuff happened, but I handled it. I’m good.”
“Are you?” Natasha asks seriously.
Peter doesn’t answer fast enough.
“Alright that’s it. Pack your stuff kid, we’re getting out of this dump.” Tony declares.
“Woah, woah hey the kid’s not going nowhere with you. He needs rest.” Frank growls, pushing past Peter to stand next to Tony again.
“And you think he’ll get proper care here? No offense, Skeletor, but you don’t seem like the TLC type. What was your plan? Shove pills down his throat, put him to bed and say a prayer? Yeah he’s gonna need actual medical care which I can provide.”
“I’m fine. You don’t have to do that.” Peter interjects before Frank can shoot anyone.
“Roos, you look like you're being held together by duct tape and aspirin. We need to get you properly checked out. I doubt this guy has the right meds for you, am I right?”
“Um, maybe.” Peter says sheepishly.
“There, it's settled. We’re going to the tower.”
“The Avengers tower?”
“Yeah, you’re gonna love it. You can pick out a room and everything.”
“A room?” He gapes.
“You gonna repeat everything I say? You don’t have a concussion too, do you?” Tony frowns.
“What do, I just… I already have an apartment.”
“I know. Could use some redecorating by the way, but the AI setup was nice. You build that?”
“You- you were in my apartment?” Peter stutters.
“Of course. First place we looked when we couldn’t find you at the hospital. Little did we know you’d been carted off by Mr Smiles here. But you’re not staying in that hellhole anymore.”
“It wasn’t that bad.” Peter murmurs. He was proud of the place. With his budget, he’s been lucky to get it and it worked fine.
“No it wasn’t.” Peter doesn’t miss the elbow Natasha throws at Tony as she says this. “And it's your choice. You’re an adult, Parker. But we would like to have you come to the tower with us. At least for a checkup. If you want to come, great. But if you want to stay where you are, we’ll respect your decision.” She ends her speech with a hard look at the group.Tony looks ready to protest, but says nothing.
Peter looks at them all. He doesn’t really know half of them that well, having been only close to Tony. After the battle with Thanos he’d been able to get to know the others more, but that had been brief. Did they really want him to stay with them? Like permanently? None of them looked like they resented the idea. In fact, they kind of looked hopeful at the thought.
He nods once, then again, more sure. “Okay. I’ll come.”
Tony grins widely. “Great, get your stuff. Or better yet, leave it. I’ll buy you what you need when we get there.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got stuff here. I’ll just go… yeah.” With that, Peter hurries out of sight, down the hall.
His hands shake as he packs his meager belongings. It’s a quick process. All he has is his suit and a toothbrush Frank bought him his first night here.
Speaking of Frank, Peter jumps when he turns to find the man has followed him. “You okay kid?” He asks.
“Yeah, I’m good, man.” Peter nods.
“That was some story back there. That shit really happen to you?”
Peter hesitates, then nods.
“That wasn’t all of it, was it? I noticed you left out all the icky sticky details. But there was more, wasn’t there?”
“They didn’t need to hear all of it.” Peter whispers.
Frank grunts in acknowledgement. “You’ve been through a lot. You deserve some privacy.” He steps closer and meets Peter’s gaze with one that’s surprisingly soft. “You need anything- a person to talk to, a pick up, a damn cupcake, you call me. Got it?”
Peter smiles. “Thank you, Frank. For everything.”
“Call me.” Frank insists.
“I will.” Peter promises.
Satisfied, Frank follows Peter back to where the Avengers are waiting.
Tony perks up when he sees him, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulders and guiding him outside. “You ready, underoos? Let’s go home.”
Home. Huh, maybe Parker luck had decided to give him a break after everything the past few years. Maybe he was finally catching a break. He was with his friends, they remembered him,and they were going home.
Peter has a feeling everything is going to be okay.