Everyone
The news came at 10 A.M.. Peter just so happened to be in the middle of a convenience store, looking for some cheap bandages, when the small TV in the corner changed channels.
On the screen is Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, holding hands, with tear tracks running down their faces. Immediately, Peter snaps his attention to the closed captions.
“Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts are asking whoever took their daughter to return her healthy and whole, that their daughter’s kidnapper rethink their choices and bring her to the police station or in front of the Avengers tower.”
The scene of Tony and Pepper standing together shifts to a pan of the sky, where multiple Avengers scour the ground below, obviously searching.
Peter rushes out of the store, sprinting towards a secluded alley so he can pull on his suit.
Someone kidnapped Tony Stark’s kid? Do they have a genuine death wish?
Peter takes to the skies, sending web after web, swinging across the city searching for anything that might give him a clue as to where Morgan Stark is.
He swings around for hours, staying out of sight of the other Avengers. He skips lunch- not that he had anything to eat anyway- and continues his search.
Around 5:00 P.M., the Avengers have cleared away, regrouping back at the tower, Peter assumes. Peter continues his search, going to desolate back alleys for anything that could indicate that a little girl was there.
A man from the ground calls out to him, “Spider-man! Are you searching for Morgan Stark?”
Peter perches on a lamppost just above the guy. “Yeah, I am.” He says.
“I think I know something.” The man says.
Eyebrows raising, Peter drops to the ground and walks closer to the man. He looks normal: Average height, dark hair, brown jacket, blue jeans. His beard is scruffy and untamed. Peter logs all this information in the back of his mind.
“Yeah? Whaddya’ got?” Peter asks.
“I’ve been trying to flag down any of you for the past few hours, but nobody noticed me. I saw a man carrying a girl in his arms around the time the Starks said the girl was kidnapped. She fit the description.” The man says.
Peter bites his lip, “What did the guy look like?”
“All black outfit. Black beanie. The girl was wearing the striped pajama pants and pink shirt that the police said Morgan was wearing.” The guy adds.
That’s… both helpful and terrifying.
“Did you see where they went?” Peter asks.
“The guy had his hand pressed over her mouth, so I was suspicious. Um- so I took a picture of the car they left in.” He says, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
Holy shit. Talk about a lead.
The man gives Peter his phone, the license plate in full view. It’s a weirdly stereotypical kidnapping van, white and dented and everything.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything more, I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve been trying to get someone’s attention all day.” The guy says apologetically.
Peter shakes his hand, handing the man back his phone after writing down the plate number, “Not at all dude, you did perfectly. This is super helpful.”
The man nods in relief, “Oh, okay, cool.”
“Yeah. Keep that picture with you, alright…?” Peter trails off.
The man perks up, “Oh, Johnny!”
“Johnny. This is really helpful, thank you. You stay out of trouble, okay?” Peter says.
The man looks much more excited, nodding like a happy puppy, “Of course, Spider-man! See you around!”
Peter gives the guy a wave and swings away. He looks at the plate number written down on his arm. He should go to the Avengers. He could probably find the car- and possibly Morgan- faster if he does it on his own now.
Peter turns towards the library.
Taking off his suit takes too much time, so he simply puts his clothes over it and takes off his mask. He enters the library and sits at a computer.
Hacking into a police database, he runs the plate. When he tracks the location, it gives him a warehouse in a field in upper New York.
Decision made, he strips off his civilian clothes, puts his mask back on, and begins swinging as fast as he can through the streets.
He loses his advantage of buildings once he gets to more rural parts of New York, but he doesn’t have super speed for nothing. Despite lacking energy, the adrenaline of saving Mr. Stark’s daughter pushes him to keep going.
He reaches the warehouse, looking over its worn edges and the weeds growing around it. He sends a web to the roof, landing without making a sound.
His ears prick at the voices from inside the warehouse.
“Did Stark respond?” A deep voice asks.
An extremely squeaky voice responds, “Nothing.”
Peter, reminded oddly enough of the weird old sitcom Pinky and the Brain, assigns those exact names to the men inside. Then Peter hears a much younger voice echo in his ears.
“I want my daddy!” Morgan yells, crying.
The Brain growls, “Well if your daddy knows what’s good for him, he’ll give me my money and I’ll let you go.”
Peter can hear the man get closer to Morgan, spitting curses in her face. The second person, Pinky, walks around the chair towards The Brain, whispering in his ear. The only reason Peter can hear is because of his enhanced senses.
“Should we send another video?” He asks.
The Brain seems to contemplate this, “Yes, grab the syringe.”
And Peter can’t have that. He swings down to the large doors in front of him, ripping them open. Pinky and The Brain swivel around, startled, and stare in shock when they see Peter standing there.
The Brain jumps into action, “Grab the gun, Colton, get the kid.”
Pinky- or, Colton- scrambles to grab a small handgun. The Brain rushes towards Peter, knife in hand. Peter swings up, leveling a kick to the man’s face. He goes down hard, head bashing against the ground.
“Shit, Danny, get up!” Pinky says. Colton and Danny. Now Peter has names, perfect.
Danny does not, in fact, get up. Not only because he’s no longer conscious, but because Peter webbed the man’s entire body to the ground.
Pinky fiddles with the gun, pointing it at Peter. He takes a few blind shots, prompting a scream from Morgan. The man doesn’t get a single hit as Peter advances on him.
Peter lands in front of the man, who still has the gun pointed at him, his hand shaking. His quick reflexes stop him from being shot point blank, and he twists the gun out of Pinky’s hand. He grabs the guy’s wrist, pulling it behind his back. Peter sends a web to the guy’s joined hands, turning him around.
The man is still fighting with his hands behind his back. Peter will attribute it to his lack of sleep, but the guy gets a solid kick to Peter’s side, straight to his ribs. Peter hears a small crack, grunting in pain, and sends a punch straight to the guy’s face.
Pinky goes down hard, knocked out. Peter webs the man’s whole body to the ground, similar to The Brain. He’s panting heavily, clutching his now burning side.
Peter hears a small whimper to his left and his attention immediately snaps to the little girl who’s tied up on the floor. He rushes over, crouching in front of her.
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s alright.” Peter shushes.
Morgan sobs louder, looking fearful of Peter. He makes a quick decision and takes off his mask. He knows his hair is a mess, sticking to his forehead, and he looks less than healthy, but he’s sure she won’t care about that.
“See? I’m just a guy, just a normal, average guy. My name is Peter.” He says soothingly.
Morgan calms down slightly when she sees his face. Tears trail down her cheeks, a small cut drips blood on her forehead.
“I’m here to help you, okay?” Peter says.
Morgan nods, “I wanna see my mommy and daddy.”
Peter reaches around, untying the girl’s wrists. “I know, I know, I’m gonna take you to them, alright?”
He returns his gaze to her face, reaching up to wipe some of the blood from her face and tears from her cheeks. He pinches one of her cheeks lightly, making her laugh.
“I’m Morgan.” The girl says shyly.
Peter smiles, “Hi Morgan. Are you ready to go home?”
The girl gives him a broad smile, one of her canines missing from her mouth. Peter lets out a dramatic gasp, “You lost your tooth!?” He asks.
She jumps up and down, lifting her arms in a universal gesture to pick her up. He obliges, watching as she gives him an extra toothy smile.
“Yeah, yeah!” Morgan says excitedly, “And the tooth fairy came and gave me a dollar!”
Peter walks out of the warehouse, ensuring the men are stuck to the ground so the police can double back and arrest them.
“Really? A whole dollar?” Peter asks, “You know, the tooth fairy gives you five dollars when you lose your front teeth.”
Morgan’s eyes shine with excitement, her jaw dropping. She kicks her feet in enthusiasm, her knee hitting his bad side. He grits his teeth in pain, stopping for a moment until the pain abates.
“Are you okay, Petey?” Morgan asks.
Peter sucks in a breath, “Yep, all good Morgan.”
It's cute that she gave him a nickname. Which also reminds him of something.
“Hey, Morgan, can you keep a secret?” Peter asks.
Morgan gasps, “Yeah! I am such a good secret keeper.”
Peter smiles, tickling her stomach lightly, “I need you not to tell anyone what my real name is, okay?”
The girl frowns slightly, “Why?”
“Because your parents and your aunts and uncles don’t know who I am and I’d like to keep it that way.” Peter explains.
Morgans thinks for a moment, biting her lip in concentration. She seems to come to a conclusion in her tiny brain and smiles at him, “Okay Petey, I won’t tell anyone!”
“You promise?” Peter asks.
Morgan nods violently, pressing her finger over her lips in a shushing motion, “I promise.”
Peter smiles at her. Once they get into the city, Peter sticks Morgan to his chest, letting her wrap her arms around his neck. He swings from building to building, chuckling at the excited squeals of Morgan when there’s a particularly long drop.
He hopes Mr. Stark isn’t mad he took his daughter on a joyride.
There’s hundreds of cameramen and paparazzi outside the tower, trying to get a picture of the people inside the building, so that entrance isn’t viable. There’s no back entrance that Peter knows about either, so he has to go straight through the window.
Hopefully he doesn’t give anyone a heart attack.
Peter attaches himself to a window, crawling up until he sees someone he recognizes. Morgan grips him tighter as they get higher up. He feels bad about scaring her like this, but there’s no other way to get Morgan to her family.
Finally, he spots a lounge area where all of the Avengers are gathered, looking haggard and stressed. It’s coming up at 9:00 P.M. now, well over twelve hours since Morgan was originally taken.
He knocks on the window, startling everyone in the room. Mr. Stark looks bewildered to see him until he notices the bundle against Peter’s chest. He sees the man mouth Morgan’s name, rushing to the window.
It opens after a few more mouthed words and Peter climbs in.
“We’re here Morgan, look,” Peter whispers to the girl. She unclenches her eyes, opening them and looking around. She makes eye contact with Mr. Stark and scrambles to get into his arms.
“Daddy!” She yells. Peter hands her over willingly. Mr. Stark whimpers and holds her tight, mumbling into the girl’s hair. Pepper Potts runs into the room, crying out when she sees her daughter, running to envelop her family into a hug.
The rest of the Avengers gape at Peter in shock.
“S- Spider-man,” Steve stutters, “How- what, when did you- what?”
Peter’s only a little bit proud that he stumped Captain America.
“There’s a warehouse in upper New York. There’s two guys, Colton and Danny, webbed up on the floor there. Here’s the address.” Peter says, handing a sticky note to the Captain.
Even Natasha looks slightly gobsmacked. Clint shakes his head, “How did you know that?”
Peter shrugs, “Some guy gave me a tip off. His name is Johnny. He said he saw a guy take a little girl who resembled Morgan and took a picture of the car’s license plate. He said he’d been trying to flag down one of you guys for hours when he sought me out.”
“Hours?” Mr. Stark asks hoarsely.
“The guys wanted money, but I assume you already know that.” Peter says.
The Avengers continue to stand around him in shock. He shifts slightly, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It shifts his ribs, making him wince from under the mask. Unconsciously, he moves his hands to press against his aching side, letting out a pained breath.
Sam speaks up, “Are you hurt, Spider-man?”
Both Pepper and Tony snap their eyes up to Peter in worry, looking him up and down. Peter waves away their concerns.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” He says.
Tony stands, giving Morgan to his wife. He turns towards Peter, wiping his eyes, “If you’re hurt, we can help you out. It’s the least we can do.”
“No, no, I’m- I’m alright.” Peter says. If they take his blood, they’ll figure out who he is, and they’ll be so disappointed to learn that the amazing Spider-man is poor, orphan, homeless, Peter Parker.
Tony sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, “Well, I’m in your debt. If you need anything, anything, you can come here.”
Peter nods, “Thank you Mr. Stark, but I was just doing my job.”
“You brought back one of our own,” Steve says, “We owe you a thousand times over, Spider-man.”
Feeling extremely awkward under all of their intense gazes, he just nods.
“Well, I have to go, sorry about all the commotion,” Peter says, “Um- have a nice Christmas!”
He walks back over to the open window, perching on it. He looks over his shoulder one more time, taking in the worried gazes of all the adults behind him, and falls over the edge.
He can’t let them in. They can’t know that Spider-man is nothing, no one.
They can’t.
—----------------------
Tony cradles his daughter close to him while laying on the couch. Pepper leans on his left, carding a hand through Morgan’s hair.
The girl has a small princess band aid covering her forehead, her eyes closed as she dozes.
The Avengers putter around him. Steve and Bucky are tag teaming dinner, Clint, Sam, and Natasha play a card game on the floor, Bruce and Thor are having an intense conversation at the kitchen bar. Everything’s normal.
Except it’s not.
There’s a tension in the air left by a person clad in red and blue. When Spider-man took a free fall, many of them had gasped and rushed to the window, only to see the boy catch himself and swing further from the tower.
The guy seemed really skittish, like he didn’t want to take any thanks for saving Morgan. Normally, that would raise some red flags, but Spider-man never stayed after battles. This was no different.
It also didn’t help that the guy was obviously hurt. The way he was cradling his side indicated an injury to his ribs.
Sam slaps the cards on to the table, rolling his eyes at Natasha’s smirk. He turns to look at Tony, then to a sleeping Morgan. His mouth turns downward, “You know what bothered me about the whole Spider-man thing?” He asks.
“Besides the fact that he wouldn’t let us patch him up?” Clint says.
Steve and Bucky walk into the room, leaning against the doorway as Sam continues talking. “He looked, like, really skinny.”
Tony hums. It’s true. The guy wears a skintight spandex suit, it doesn’t hide much about his body type. Tony can remember seeing the concave-like stomach of the boy, how his ribs could be counted.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Tony says softly.
“That’s kinda worrying, no?” Sam asks.
“I mean, yeah, but what can we do about it?” Natasha responds.
She’s not wrong. They can’t force Spider-man to talk to them, especially when they have no clue who he is. They can only hope that Spider-man takes Tony’s offer.
Morgan shifts in his arms, yawning, “Spider-man is so nice.” She says.
Pepper smiles at her, “Yeah?”
“Yeah, he let me wear his mask for a while and he took down all the bad guys.” Morgan says excitedly.
The room stills.
“He… took off his mask?” Steve asks.
Morgan nods, “Yeah, ‘cause I was scared ‘cause I didn’t know who he was, but then he showed me he was just a guy.”
Looks are exchanged all around.
“Did he tell you his name, sweetheart?” Pepper asks.
“Yup!” Morgan says, popping the ‘p’.
“Can you tell us what it is?” Tony asks.
Morgan shakes her head violently. “He said to keep it a secret.” She says, bringing her finger to her lips.
Shocker. That’s not necessarily surprising, but it’s definitely a little frustrating.
“Well, we all know how good you are at secrets.” Tony says, giving his friends a look. He sees them sigh in defeat, going back to their various tasks.
Morgan climbs up Tony’s chest, whispering in his ear, “He also said that the tooth fairy gives you five dollars when you lose your front teeth. Is that true?”
He hears Pepper laugh out loud, slapping Tony on the thigh. Tony rolls his eyes, giving his daughter a smile. She squeals in delight, cuddling deeper into Tony’s side.
Tony chuckles to himself. Seems like the kid has a sense of humor on him.
Little shit.
—--------------------
The time where Peter goes back to the Avengers tower comes much too quickly in Peter’s opinion.
It’s the day after Christmas, a prime time for robbers and criminals to make their rounds across the city.
He is scouring the city, looking for any trouble, when a scream comes from his right. He swings over, watching as a man with a knife corners a young woman carrying some bags. He’s whispering threats to her while tears track down her face.
Peter lands on the ground behind the man. The woman being robbed jumps in shock, her eyes widening in relief.
“Stealing? Right after Christmas? You know Saint Nick is always watching, it’s not just a free for all after the day ends.” Peter quips.
The mugger rushes at him, knife raised. He blocks the hit, going on the defensive. The man is quick, sending punches to Peter’s face and slashing his knife at his body.
“Go!” Peter yells to the woman, who dashes away, typing on her phone. Peter hopes she’s calling the police.
The man in front of him is much larger than Peter. He moves quickly, grunting with effort as he attacks. They spend a few minutes trading blows, the man never giving Peter an opening to use his webs.
Peter is tired. Really, really tired. He hasn’t eaten in a few days, hasn’t slept well in even longer, and his ribs are still sore. He’s losing steam quickly. His spider-sense hasn’t been working as well over the past few months.
Which is why what happened, happened.
In a moment of weakness, Peter lets his guard down. His limbs feel heavy as sandbags, weighing him down. His spider-sense goes off too late and a knife descends into his stomach.
He stares at it uncomprehendingly. It goes all the way to the hilt. He looks up dazedly at the mugger, who looks just as shocked as Peter feels.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Peter mumbles.
In a moment of clarity, he shoots a web at the man, sticking him to the wall. He sends two more webs, making sure the man stays there.
The mugger doesn’t resist, his eyes staring wide at the knife embedded in Peter’s stomach. Peter just assumes that the woman called the police and stumbles away from the scene.
He enters a secluded alleyway, falling against the wall. He looks down at the knife in his stomach, trying to clear his head to come up with a plan. The pain of a foreign object in his body burns through his stomach.
He tries to remember what someone with a knife in their stomach is supposed to do. Don’t take it out, he remembers. But then what?
He can’t go to a hospital, he doesn’t know how to stitch up the wound himself, and he certainly can’t just let his accelerated healing take care of it.
There’s only one option: The tower.
He can’t walk there, it’s too far. He’ll have to swing, but he can’t do that with a knife in his stomach. So he has to take it out.
He grips the hilt of the knife tightly, sweat running down his forehead. His shaking hands jolt the knife around, sending pings of electricity through his veins, making him cry out.
Peter pants for breath, counting down in his head. In one smooth, quick move, he pulls the knife out of his stomach, immediately putting pressure on the wound with his other hand.
He lets out a loud yell of pain, tears running down his face. Blood gushes over his hands and down his suit, puddling on the ground around him.
He points his wrist to the wound shakily, sending webbing to seal it temporarily so he doesn’t bleed out on the way over. It sends a burning feeling across his stomach and down his abdomen, making him grit his teeth.
Peter stands on wobbly legs, gasping in pain. He stumbles out of the alley, sending a web to one of the lampposts, pulling himself up.
The strain against the hole in his stomach burns so intensely, making him wheeze as he swings across the city. Multiple times, he has to stop on an odd rooftop to curl around himself until the throbbing of his stomach abates.
The webs keeping the blood in his stomach are stained red and falling off by the time he makes it to the tower. He swings up to the same level he was on when he dropped off Morgan, leaving bloody handprints against the glass as he crawls up.
Thankfully, the Avengers are in the room, watching a movie. He bangs weakly against the window, gaining the attention of the adults.
They spot the red staining his clothes and their eyes go wide. The window opens and Peter trips over the edge into the room. His hand holds onto the wound, but it doesn’t stop the blood from dripping onto Mr. Starks white floor.
“Spider-man?” Steve asks concernedly.
All the Avengers have stood up at this point, looking at him in horror. Peter pants for breath, the mask constricting his lungs. He’s not of sound mind, so he just peels the mask off.
Gasps sound about the room.
“P-Peter?” Mr. Stark asks, astonished.
Peter’s eyes snap open, staring around the room thoughtlessly. He sees the Avengers staring at him, mouths agape and hands out, like they’re preparing to catch someone.
“Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbles, “You said I could come t’ the tower and I said that I couldn’t, but- but then there was a man and he had a knife and normally I can deal with that in, like, a second, but Mr. Stark I- I’m so tired and hungry all the time and my spider-sense isn’ workin’ right so I couldn’ tell that he was gon’ stab me.”
He stumbles into Mr. Stark, his legs giving out. The man guides him to the floor, looking down at him worriedly.
“Call Cho.” Mr. Stark orders.
Peter continues mumbling, “‘n I really wanted to stay a couple days ago, bu’ I thought you wouldn’ be happy that Spider-man is Peter ‘cause Peter isn’ cool.”
Mr. Stark licks his lips, raking his hand through Peter’s greasy hair.
“Peter is so cool.” The man whispers.
“Not, not like Spider-man. Peter is, like, nothing.” Peter murmurs.
The Avengers look down at the scene in alarm. They never would have expected that the kind, smart homeless boy they’ve all mysteriously ran into, is also the brave, witty, web-slinging and avoidant vigilante.
Peter’s eyes flutter. Tony taps his cheek lightly, “Kid, you need to stay awake.”
“‘M tired.” Peter mumbles, his eyes closing.
“Where’s Cho!?” Tony asks, panicked.
The pain in his stomach numbs and the last thing Peter feels before he falls into unconsciousness, is strong arms coming across the back of his knees and his shoulders, picking him up like a baby.
—--------------------
Peter wakes slowly.
His hearing comes to him first.
“-ust worried about what he was saying before he passed out.” A voice comes from his left. It sounds familiar.
Another man responds, “Me too, but we won’t know what he was talking about until he wakes up.”
“If he wakes up.” The first man says.
The second man shifts, clothes ruffling as he moves, “You heard what Bruce said, he’s gonna be fine, Tony.”
“I know, I know, it’s just- it was too close.” Mr. Stark says, Peter’s mind connecting the voice to the man.
“Yeah,” The other man sighs, “I can’t believe he’s Peter.”
“Honestly, I’m not shocked. The kid is basically a mix of you and me, of course he’s the type to become a hero.” Tony says.
The other man- Steve, maybe?- lets out a huff of amusement, “Yeah, no wonder Bucky got attached so quickly.”
Tony leans back in his seat, “I just wish he had come to us earlier. I can’t believe it took him being stabbed to ask for our help.”
Steve stands, clapping Tony on the shoulder, “I know, it sucks. But he’s with us now.”
He can hear the smile on Tony’s face when the man responds, “And we’re never letting him go.”
Steve chuckles, telling Tony to let them know when Peter wakes and leaves the room. Peter enters a small doze, moving hazily in and out of consciousness.
Eventually, he feels awake enough to open his eyes. He blinks a couple times, taking in the bright lights of the room and the beeping of the machines next to him. On his right, sitting in a chair, is Mr. Stark, dead asleep.
Peter lets out a hoarse cough, swallowing heavily against his dry throat. It wakes Mr. Stark, who snaps his gaze to Peter. His eyes soften and he shuffles his chair to right beside the bed.
“Hey, kiddo.” Mr. Stark says softly.
“Hi.” Peter responds roughly.
Mr. Stark winces, grabbing a cup of water and putting it to Peter’s lips. He takes the liquid gratefully, getting down a few gulps before Mr. Stark pulls it away.
The man looks at him with a mix of worry and affection, carding his hand through Peter’s dirty hair.
“Guess the cat’s outta the bag, huh?” Peter whispers.
Mr. Stark laughs, moving his hand down to cup Peter’s cheek. Peter leans into it, closing his eyes against the warmth.
“You scared the hell out of all of us, underoos.” Mr. Stark says.
Peter lets out a soft laugh, “I seem to do that a lot.”
Tony nods, smiling. His other hand reaches to take Peter’s.
“Why didn’t you come to us sooner, bud?” Tony asks, squeezing his hand.
Peter licks his lips, shrugging, “I didn’t wanna intrude or anything. As Spider-man or Peter.”
Tony shakes his head, stroking Peter’s cheek, “You’d never intrude. We all think you’re great. Even greater now that we know you’re a kickass hero who singlehandedly lowered crime in Queens.”
“Yeah, Spider-man is cool.” Peter says, looking down at the sheets. Mr. Stark frowns, gripping the boy’s chin softly and forcing him to make eye contact.
“Hey, look at me. Yeah, Spider-man is cool. But we love the boy under the mask, too.” The man says.
Peter’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping slightly, “Really?”
Tony nods, “We’ve all bumped into you one way or another, and all of us have nothing but good things to say about you. You’re kind, funny and smart. Peter is all those things. We all love that about Peter.”
A lump forms in Peter’s throat. He nods silently.
“And,” Mr. Stark continues, “If you think for a second that the Avengers won’t move heaven and earth for the boy who saved my daughter, you’re obviously concussed and we need to check you over.”
Mr. Stark’s voice gets even lower, “Pepper and I were thinking of adopting you before we even knew you were Spider-man.”
Tears spill over Peter’s cheeks. His breath hitches and he lets out a small sob. Mr. Stark grips his shoulder, pulling him into a hug. It’s been so long since he’s hugged someone. Peter melts into it, crying into the man’s shoulder, wrapping his arms tight around Mr. Stark’s waist.
He holds Peter tight, running his hand through his hair, rubbing his back up and down. He rocks them back and forth, cooing into his ear.
“We love Peter,” Mr. Stark mutters, “The fact that you’re Spider-man is just an amazing addition to an already wonderful boy.”
Peter cries into the man’s shoulder for a long time. Years of despair and loneliness unloading onto Mr. Stark. When his cries turn into small whimpers and sniffles, Peter pulls away. Mr. Stark thumbs away the tears on Peter’s face.
“You mean it?” Peter asks.
Mr. Stark nods, “Every word. I feel like we already know you, like you’re just the last piece of the puzzle.”
Peter leans on to Mr. Stark’s shoulder. The man lifts his hand, rubbing his head.
“You wanna go take a shower? Then maybe meet everyone for real?” Mr. Stark asks.
Peter nods, swinging his legs over the bed. His accelerated healing still isn’t working as well as it used to. He’s been on an IV for a few hours while he was asleep, but it certainly isn’t enough to bring his powers back to normal.
The shower is heavenly. He hasn’t had one in so long. And warm water, he almost cries again. He scrubs through his hair, black and brown running down the drain. He has to wash three times before the water runs clear.
When he gets out, there are new clothes waiting for him. There’s a pair of pajama pants and a large T-shirt. They’re both way too big and he’s swimming in them, but they’re incredibly comfortable, so he’s not about to complain.
Peter walks back into the room where he was staying. Mr. Stark perks up and smiles at Peter’s clean and comfortable form.
“C’mon, kid, they’re dying to meet you.” Mr. Stark says.
Peter laughs, “They already know me.”
“Yeah, but now they can meet you for real.” Mr. Stark responds.
They enter the lounge that Peter was in when he stumbled in with a bleeding torso where the rest of the Avengers wait on the couches.
“He has arrived!” Mr. Stark says dramatically, gesturing grandly to Peter.
All eyes snap to Peter, mouths widening in smiles. Peter waves awkwardly, “Hi.” He says.
“Peter!” Multiple voices call his name, the Avengers standing as Peter walks further into the room.
“Holy shit, it’s good to see you not bleeding out.” Clint says, giving him a salute.
“Language.” Steve says sternly, walking over to Peter.
He sets one hand on Peter’s shoulder, “You gave us a heart attack, son.”
Peter rolls his eyes, “The amount of times I’ve heard that phrase, I could buy a yacht.”
The man laughs, eyes sparkling, and he ruffles Peter’s- now soft- curls. Steve walks back over to Bucky, who gives Peter a nod, a small smile on his face.
Tony steers Peter to the middle of the room, sitting him down on a couch. He feels a little awkward in front of all these people, but they’re surprisingly familiar and it’s the safest he’s ever been, so he tries to ignore the initial uncomfortableness of it all.
A fierce looking woman with red hair- Natasha Romanoff- stares down at him. He doesn’t remember meeting her, but he does remember waking up one morning with a blanket on his body that he never bought.
“Thank you for the blanket.” Peter tells her.
Natasha raises a brow, “How’d you know?”
“My incredible deduction skills.” Peter says, getting a laugh from Sam.
The woman stares at him for a second longer, analyzing him, before her body language relaxes, a smile adorning her face.
“You’re welcome, baby spider.” She says.
He talks to a few of the other Avengers. Sam is just as nice as he was a couple months ago, but now he teases Peter about his spider-like tendencies. Bruce silently hands him a thick stack of papers, winking at him as he walks away.
Peter just barely refrains from squealing when he sees the annotations scribbled on the front page.
The elevator door opens and in walks Pepper Potts with Morgan at her side. Morgan is bouncing around her mother, smiling, and her jaw drops when she spots Peter.
“Petey!” She yells, sprinting to the boy. She leaps onto his lap, wrapping her tiny arms around Peter’s neck. He holds her just as tight, squeezing her small waist.
“Hi, Morgan.” He says, watching as she pulls back. Morgan looks back at the adults before turning to Peter.
She whispers loudly enough for everyone to hear her, “They can all see your face, Petey.”
Clint snorts. Peter gives him a dirty look before turning back to Morgan. “They all know, sweetie. It’s okay to tell them now.”
Morgan’s eyes widened, her head nodding violently. She stands on Peter’s thighs, turning around to face the adults. Peter holds her waist so she doesn’t fall off.
With all the confidence of a woman revealing the biggest secret of the year, Morgan yells, “Peter is Spider-man!”
Stage gasps come from around the room, making Peter laugh out loud.
“What!?” Mr. Stark says, slapping his hands to his cheeks in shock. He swoops Morgan out of Peter’s lap, spinning Morgan around.
“How could you keep this from us, Morguna!?” He says, pretending to be betrayed. Morgan giggles loudly and squirms in the man’s grip.
Pepper walks over to Peter, crouching by the seat he’s in. She gives him a soft smile, “I’m glad you’re home, sweetheart.” She says softly, her hand coming up to cup Peter’s cheek.
Peter’s face scrunches as he tries to hold back tears. The woman notices and pulls him into a hug. She smells of lavender and warmth, like a mother Peter can barely remember.
He pulls away and Pepper strokes his face quickly before standing and walking further into the penthouse.
Peter tries to ignore all the Avengers looking at him with adoring facial expressions. He’s embarrassed enough as is.
Eventually, all the Avengers end up in the lounge area, sitting on various couches. Mr. Stark sits beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulder.
“Do I have to talk now?” Peter murmurs.
Mr. Stark runs a hand through Peter’s hair, “Not if you don’t want to.”
Peter shrugs, “I know you’re all curious, though.”
“Yeah,” Mr. Stark admits, “But we’re not gonna force you to give us your life story unless you want to. That’s your decision.”
“I want to. I trust you guys.” Peter says.
The room quiets down and Peter takes even breaths, trying to get the courage to tell the Avengers exactly why he’s no longer welcome at May’s.
“I was bitten by a radioactive spider.” Peter starts.
Clint chokes on his water, staring at Peter wide-eyed. Many of the other adults don’t look much different.
Peter laughs, “Yeah, I’m not kidding. I was almost thirteen and I was on a field trip to Oscorp Industries and they did not keep their test subjects well contained. I was sick for, like, a week. Bad. I had a 107 fever, I thought I was gonna die.”
The worried faces of the people around him makes him feel better. There are people around him who care what happens to him.
“But then I woke up one morning and I was better. More than better, I was stronger and faster, and I could stick to things.” Peter says.
“Creepy.” Sam says.
Peter sends him a look, “A week after I got the powers, I got in an argument with my uncle and ran out of the house. He followed, and we ended up getting mugged. The man shot my uncle and I just stood there. A man had a gun pointed at my uncle and I didn’t do a thing. He died in my arms.” He says thickly.
Nobody says anything, but Tony places a hand on his back, rubbing up and down.
“A couple weeks after that, my aunt found out about Spider-man. I’d only been going out for a week or so, but she was furious. She said that I could’ve saved Ben, but then she said that I was hurting everyone around me by continuing to go out as Spider-man.” Peter continues.
“But I couldn’t stop. When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and bad things happen… they happen because of you. So, I needed to be Spider-man. To save people who can’t do it themselves.” Peter says quietly.
He looks up at the Avengers. Steve looks incredibly sad, but he’s got a proud glint in his eyes. They all remain silent while he finishes his story.
“So she kicked me out. And I’ve been on the streets since.” Peter finishes.
“Until now.” Tony says softly.
Peter hesitates, looking around the room. None of the Avengers look disgusted by him or seem like they like him any less.
“We want you to stay here, with us, Peter. You’re one of ours.” Sam speaks up.
Peter nods, a smile growing on his face, “I’d like that.”
That prompts smiles and cheers from the group. Peter gets more hugs in the next ten minutes then he has in the past two years.
He scarfs down two bowls of spaghetti, only stopping because Steve pulls a third bowl away, “You’re going to puke if you eat anymore, you gotta take it slow, kid.” He says.
They end up in front of the TV, watching Peter’s favorite, Star Wars. Peter looks around at the Avengers, who lay sprawled next to each other, half-asleep.
If you told Peter a week ago that this would be his life, he’d laugh in your face. But here he is, warm and comfortable and not at all alone.
He falls asleep on Tony’s shoulder, surrounded by a family he never thought he’d have. The warmth in his chest grows, and for the first time, it’s there to stay.