"i've got you."
The Quinjet soared through the sky toward the coordinates Fury had sent. Natasha sat near the front, running through the mission briefing in her head. A simple smash and grab at what was suspected to be a Hydra facility. Get in, retrieve any intel, get out. She glanced back at the team assembled for this op. Steve and Tony were going over the floorplans, Clint sat cleaning his arrows, Bruce was meditating, probably preparing himself in case the Big Guy made an appearance.
And in the back corner sat Peter, legs pulled up to his chest, eyes distant as he stared blankly ahead. Natasha frowned slightly. The kid had been quiet ever since suiting up. She knew missions could overwhelm his senses sometimes, but he usually managed it alright. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him.
The Quinjet landed a quarter mile from the coordinates to avoid detection. The team disembarked and made their way through the trees toward a concrete bunker nestled against a hillside.
Steve took point as they approached the door. "Stark, you're up."
Tony aimed his gauntlet at the security panel next to the door, firing off a concentrated EMP to short circuit the system. A dull thunk signaled the locks releasing. He winked at Steve. "After you, Cap."
Steve rolled his eyes and yanked the door open. One by one, they filed inside, footsteps echoing down the dim hallway. Natasha watched their six, her eyes continuously scanning for threats. As they descended deeper into the bunker, the air grew colder and damper. She suppressed a shiver.
"Alright team, stay sharp," Steve whispered. "We don't know what we'll find down here."
They swept methodically through the halls, clearing rooms as they went. Most were empty offices and sleeping quarters, covered in a fine layer of dust. This base had been abandoned for some time.
Finally, they reached a larger room filled with rows of tall shelving units. "This must be the archives," Bruce said, glancing around. Steve nodded.
"Start searching for anything useful. Download what you can to go through later."
The team fanned out, rifling through file boxes and plugging drives into ancient looking computers. The air filled with shuffling papers and tapping keyboards.
Natasha flipped through a folder, then stashed it in her pack. Her eyes drifted over to Peter, two rows over. The boy stood motionless, staring at the shelf in front of him. He hadn't moved in several minutes. She frowned and started toward him.
"Spider-Man, report," she said over the coms. He didn't respond, gave no indication he'd even heard her. She quickened her pace. "Peter!"
The sharpness of her tone made him flinch violently, the files slipping from his hands to scatter across the floor. Natasha reached him then, brow creasing in concern. "Peter? Are you okay?"
The eyes that finally met hers were wide and frightened. His breaths came in short, panicky gasps. Natasha grasped his shoulders gently.
"Peter, talk to me. What's going on?"
He just shook his head, a faint whimper escaping his throat. Natasha glanced around. The others were still preoccupied with their searches. She lowered her voice.
"Sensory overload?"
Peter managed a jerky nod, fresh tears welling in his eyes. Natasha squeezed his shoulder. "Okay, just try to breathe. Do you need me to get you out of here?"
He hesitated, then shook his head, swallowing hard. "I—I can still help," he whispered shakily.
Natasha studied him for a moment. The poor kid was clearly overwhelmed, but she knew how stubborn he could be. "Alright," she conceded. "But stick close to me, okay? And if it gets to be too much, just say the word."
Peter nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face. Natasha rested a hand on his back and guided him further down the aisle. "Just tune everything else out and focus on the mission. It'll be over soon."
They continued searching, Peter gravitating closer until his shoulder brushed hers. She could feel him shaking, see his hands trembling as he sifted through files. Hear his breathing growing tighter, more panicked.
She opened her mouth to pull him out, mission be damned, when Captain America's voice rang out.
"Let's move out, team. We've got all we need."
The others voiced their acknowledgements. Natasha turned to Peter, saw the sheer relief flood his face.
"Almost done, Spiderling," she murmured. "Just get to the jet, okay?"
He nodded jerkily, pressing even closer as they retraced their steps up and out of the bunker. Outside, the sunlight seemed to stab through Peter's lenses. A pained whine escaped his throat and he stumbled, throwing out a hand to catch himself against the jet's hull.
Natasha caught him under the arms before he could collapse further. "Whoa whoa whoa, I got you," she grunted, easing him down. Peter hunched forward, clawing at his ears.
"Hurts..." he whimpered, so softly she almost missed it. Natasha's chest tightened.
"I know, bud. Let's get you inside."
She looped his arm over her shoulders and half dragged, half carried him up the ramp and over to the bench along the back. Peter immediately curled in on himself, breaths coming harsh and fast.
The others filtered in, throwing concerned glances back. Natasha blocked Peter from view as best she could and raised a finger to her lips, shaking her head. Thankfully, they seemed to get the message, turning their attention to securing gear and running post-mission checks instead of crowding the overwhelmed kid.
Natasha sat beside Peter, helplessly watching him tremble and gasp. "Just try to breathe, Spiderling," she soothed. "Nice and slow. You're safe now. I'm right here."
On a desperate impulse, she reached out and carded her fingers through his curls. Peter stiffened briefly before leaning into the touch, some of the tension leaking from his shoulders. Encouraged, Natasha kept up the gentle repetitive motion.
"That's it," she murmured. "You've got this. I know it hurts but it'll pass."
Peter's only response was to press closer, dropping his head onto her shoulder. She wrapped an arm around him and held on tight.
As the jet lifted off and the noise level rose, Peter gave a strangled sob and clutched at her arm. "Shh shh, I know," Natasha soothed, barely resisting the urge to order Clint to cut the engines. "Just focus on me, Паук. Мама пичкает тебя."
At the familiar Russian endearment, Peter broke down, harsh sobs muffled against her tactical suit. "Tasha...," he choked out. "It h-hurts..."
Natasha blinked hard against the sudden sting in her eyes. "I know, baby. But I'm here now. You're gonna be okay." She caught a glimpse of Wanda staring at them from across the jet, eyes wide. Natasha met her gaze and flicked her eyes pointedly down at the sobbing boy in her arms.
Wanda's face flooded with understanding and she immediately crossed over to them. Natasha shifted to make room so Wanda could wedge herself against Peter's other side.
"Hey," she murmured, brushing a hand through his hair. Peter's head shot up, eyes landing on her. The pure relief in his expression hit Natasha like a punch to the chest.
"Wanda," he gasped and all but dove into her, nearly knocking her backwards. Wanda quickly steadied herself and pulled him close, cupping the back of his head as he buried his face in her shoulder.
"I know, little brother," she soothed, rocking him gently as his tears started anew. "Just let it out. I've got you."
Natasha kept one hand on Peter's back, maintaining the physical connection as he clung to Wanda like a lifeline. The girl met Natasha's gaze, a wealth of understanding passing between them. Natasha gave her a small smile and squeezed Peter's shoulder.
"There you go, sweetheart. We've got you now."
Peter nodded against Wanda's tactical suit, fingers twisting in the fabric. "Th-thank you," he forced out between hiccuping breaths.
Wanda just hummed, continuing to stroke his hair. Natasha maintained the gentle pressure on his back.
After several minutes, Peter seemed to melt against Wanda, the tension slowly easing from his slender frame. His sobs tapered off to occasional hitching breaths. But he kept his face tucked against Wanda's shoulder, her quiet assurances a soothing balm.
When the jet finally touched down at the compound, Peter flinched violently at the decreased engine noise. Natasha squeezed his shoulder again.
"It's okay, we're back now. Think you can make it inside?"
Peter drew in a shaky breath and sat up, scrubbing at his reddened eyes. He nodded without looking at either of them. Natasha exchanged a glance with Wanda, who gave her a subtle nod and helped pull Peter to his feet.
They lagged behind the rest of the team exiting the jet. Natasha kept close as Wanda guided a stumbling Peter into the compound and down the hall toward his room. She keyed in his access code and nudged the door open.
Peter made it two steps inside before his knees buckled. Natasha and Wanda caught him under either arm and helped him sit heavily on the bed. Peter hunched forward, face buried in his hands.
Natasha sat beside him and rubbed his back. "Do you need anything, sweetheart?"
Peter shook his head, not looking up. Wanda perched on his other side, leaning into him.
"You're safe now," she murmured. "We'll stay as long as you need."
A hitched breath was their only answer. But Peter tilted until he rested more firmly against Wanda. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"Thank you," Peter finally whispered. He lifted his head to look between them, eyes shining. "For everything. I...I dunno what I'd do without you guys."
Warmth bloomed in Natasha's chest. She smoothed a hand over his hair and kissed his temple. "Any time, little spider. I've got you."
Peter's breath hitched again. Then he turned and buried his face in her shoulder. Natasha held him close, sharing a smile with Wanda over his head.
"We've got you," Wanda echoed softly, squeezing his hand.
Peter sighed, the last of the tension leaving him. Safe in the embrace of his found family.
Natasha pulled Peter's bedroom door closed with a soft click. The poor kid had finally passed out, the exhaustion of sensory overload overriding his enhanced metabolism. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.
"Well, that was rough," came Wanda's quiet voice.
Natasha turned to see the girl leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. She looked as weary as Natasha felt.
"No kidding," Natasha huffed. "I haven't seen him that bad in a long time."
Wanda nodded, eyebrows pinched together. "Do you think we should have pulled him earlier?"
"Maybe," Natasha admitted. "But you know how stubborn he is. I'm just glad we were able to calm him down."
"Me too." Wanda glanced back at the closed door. "He's asleep for now at least. Poor kid's wiped."
Natasha made a noise of agreement. Her gaze drifted down the hall to where the rest of the team had gathered in the common room. Most were still dressed in tactical gear, unwinding after the mission. She steeled herself.
"Well, I suppose we better go update the others on the situation."
Wanda grimaced. "Do we have to? It's Peter's story to tell."
"I know," Natasha replied heavily. She didn't relish the thought of breaking the kid's confidence either. "But they saw enough to have questions. Better they hear it from us first."
Wanda's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, you're right. Let's just...get it over with."
They made their way down the hall together, footsteps slowing as they approached the others. Steve noticed them first, brows furrowing at their expressions.
"Everything okay with Queens?"
Natasha crossed her arms. "He's sleeping now."
"Did something happen out there?" Sam asked, twisting around to face them. "Kid looked rough when you brought him on the jet."
Natasha looked helplessly at Wanda, who sighed. "It's...complicated. He has sensory processing issues that can be...overwhelmed on missions sometimes."
"Sensory processing issues?" Tony echoed, frowning. "You mean like...autism?"
Natasha nodded. "Exactly like that."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Steve scrubbed a hand over his jaw. "I had no idea. He never said anything."
"He didn't want to be treated differently," Wanda said quietly. "But Nat and I have known for awhile. We help ground him when he gets overwhelmed."
"Is that why he was clinging to you guys on the ride back?" Bruce asked. At their confirming nods, his face softened. "Poor kid."
Clint shook his head, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. "I knew something was up, the way he flinched at every sound. Why didn't you pull him earlier?"
Natasha bristled, hackles rising. "You think I didn't try? He insisted he was fine. You know how stubborn he is about completing the mission."
"Whoa whoa," Steve cut in, raising his hands. "No one's blaming anyone. We just want to help the kid moving forward."
Natasha took a breath, tamping down on the flare of defensiveness. "I know. I'm sorry." She scrubbed a hand over her eyes. "I just hate seeing him like that, you know? He tries so hard to keep it together."
Wanda slipped an arm around her shoulders. "You did everything you could. Peter knows that. So do I."
Natasha grasped the girl's hand gratefully. Sam cleared his throat.
"Is there anything we can do next time? To help minimize stimulation, or get him out quicker?"
Natasha considered the question. "Ear plugs might help some. If you notice him getting overwhelmed, try to redirect focus and limit noise around him."
"We'll watch for the signs," Steve assured her seriously. "Now that we know what's going on, we can accommodate better."
"The kid's also welcome to tinker in my shop if he needs some quiet time," Tony added. "Fri can screen visitors and keep the sensory levels manageable."
Natasha felt herself relax slightly. "Thank you. I'm sure Peter will appreciate that."
"Why do you think today was so bad for him?" Bruce asked gently. "More than usual, I mean?"
Wanda tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hard to say for sure. Some days are just worse than others." She glanced at Natasha. "Maybe the bunker itself? It was cold and damp and completely enclosed."
Natasha nodded thoughtfully. "You're probably right. I know he struggles more with underground spaces."
"Should we take him off missions like that for now?" Clint suggested.
Steve looked conflicted. "I don't want to sideline him if he's not on board. We'll run options by him when he's feeling up to it."
"In the meantime, we'll keep a closer eye out next op," Sam said. "Make sure he's really okay before deploying."
Natasha's shoulders lowered in relief. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was better than nothing.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I know Peter will appreciate you guys looking out for him."
Steve offered a kind smile. "Of course. He's part of this team, which means we look after our own."
The simple assurance loosened the knot in Natasha's chest. However Peter decided to move forward, at least now he would have the full support of his found family behind him.
She met Wanda's eyes and saw her own gratitude reflected back. They may all be damaged or different in their own ways, but together, they were whole.
Peter shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, shoulders hunched and eyes on the floor. He headed straight for the coffee maker, movements sluggish.
"Morning, kid," Tony greeted from the table. "How you feeling?"
Peter glanced up briefly as he poured his coffee. Dark circles stood out under his eyes. "I'm okay," he mumbled.
He curled both hands around the mug, trailing the tip of one finger repetitively over the smooth ceramic. Natasha watched the unconscious stimming motion from her seat at the counter.
"Did you get some rest at least?" she asked gently.
Peter ducked his head. "A little."
Meaning the poor kid had likely been up half the night with sensory overload aftershocks. Natasha's heart ached for him.
Peter wandered over to sit beside her at the counter. He kept turning the coffee mug in slow circles, eyes unfocused.
"Well, take it easy today," Tony advised. "You've earned a break."
Peter just hummed noncommittally, not looking up. He brought the mug to his lips and took a careful sip.
Steve entered the kitchen next, offering Peter a warm smile. "Glad to see you up and about. We missed you at training earlier."
Peter winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep so late." His nail traced back and forth over a small scratch in the countertop.
"No need to apologize," Steve assured. "Just focus on feeling better."
He moved to grab a water bottle from the fridge, then paused. "Actually, would you mind if I sit over here today?" He gestured to the empty seats on Peter's other side.
Peter blinked, brow furrowing slightly. "Um, sure?"
"Thanks." Steve slid onto a stool one over from Peter's, leaning casually on the counter. Close enough to talk, but far enough to avoid crowding the kid's personal space.
Peter shot Natasha a puzzled look, which she returned with a subtle shoulder shrug.
Clint wandered in next, making an exaggerated detour around Peter to get to the coffee maker on his far side. He filled a mug and stood leaning against the counter instead of taking his usual seat close beside Peter.
By the time Sam came in and took a stool on Steve's other side, Peter was starting to get suspicious. He kept glancing between them all, fingers never ceasing their fidgeting with his mug.
Wanda breezed in at last, making a beeline for the seat on Peter's free side. She bumped his shoulder affectionately. "Hi brother. Feeling any better?"
Peter quirked a timid smile at her. "A little. Yesterday was just...a lot." His nail scratched over a groove in the countertop.
Wanda covered his free hand with her own, stilling its movements. "I know. But you made it through." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.
Peter ducked his head again, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Thanks. For everything you did. You and Nat, I mean." His eyes flicked between them, voice turning earnest. "I dunno what I'd do without you two."
Warm fondness rushed through Natasha's chest. "Anytime, мой паучок. I've got your six."
"Mine too, little brother," Wanda assured, nudging him again. "We'll always look out for you."
By now, Peter seemed to have caught on that something was different. He kept glancing around at all of them. "Did I miss something?"
"Nah," Sam said casually. "We just wanted to chill over here today."
Peter didn't seem convinced, if the adorable crinkle between his brows was any indication. But he didn't push the issue, just ducked his head and went back to tracing his fingertip along the counter.
"So movie night is still on for tonight, right?" Clint spoke up after a minute. "Please tell me we're not watching Star Wars again."
"Hey!" Peter protested, a hint of a real smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing wrong with Star Wars."
"Nothing wrong with watching something else once in a while either," Natasha teased.
Peter rolled his eyes, but his smile widened a fraction. He took another sip of coffee, knee bouncing gently against the cupboards. The others launched into a lively debate about which movie genre was best, keeping the banter light.
Soon, mugs were drained and folks started dispersing to begin their days. Peter slid off his stool and wandered toward the dishwasher. Steve caught Natasha's eye and tilted his head toward the kid. She gave a subtle nod of understanding.
"Hey, Queens," Steve called, stepping over to Peter. "Why don't you let us take care of the dishes today? Go get some more rest."
Peter turned, brow furrowing again. "But I can help, it's fine—"
"Nope, nuh uh, nope," Tony chimed in breezily. "Cap's orders. Take a breather, kid."
Peter opened his mouth to protest again, but Steve placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the hallway. "We've got this. Just relax, okay? Don't make me pull rank."
His teasing tone took any bite from the words. Peter huffed a sigh. "Fiiine. You guys are being weird though." He shot them one last suspicious look before ambling from the room.
Steve waited until he was out of earshot before turning back to Natasha. "We'll keep doing what we can to help him feel comfortable."
She gave him a grateful smile. "I think he's catching on, but you all were very subtle. Thank you for looking out for him."
Steve clapped her on the shoulder. "Any time. He's our kid now too."
Natasha watched him go, heart squeezing at the simple truth of those words. Yes, broken and mismatched as they were, they had become a family. And they would move heaven and earth to take care of their own.
Peter kept up his suspicious glances throughout the day as various teammates continued finding subtle ways to accommodate him. Choosing seats far from him at team meetings, avoiding standing downwind, keeping volumes low and lights dimmed.
By the time they all settled into the media room for movie night, he looked downright baffled. Natasha hid a smile and sank onto the couch beside Wanda.
"Alright, nerds," Tony announced, clapping his hands. "Let's get this movie night started. Fri, dim the lights to...oh, let's say twenty percent."
The lights lowered obediently as Peter shot Tony an incredulous look. "Twenty percent? How are we even supposed to see the screen?"
Tony waved a hand breezily. "Eh, we'll manage. Let's fire this bad boy up!"
He practically threw himself onto the opposite end of the sectional from Peter, tossing fuzzy blankets at the others as they took their own seats a respectful distance from the bemused kid.
Peter inched closer to Natasha, eyes narrowed. "Okay seriously, what is going on with you guys?" he hissed under his breath.
Natasha hid a smile and squeezed his hand. "No idea what you mean, маленький паук. Now shh, movie's starting."
Peter huffed, clearly still suspicious. But he settled back against the couch, picking idly at a loose thread on his sweatpants.
As the movie played, the others maintained their subtle vigilance. Handing Peter noise cancelling headphones "in case the action scenes are too loud." Bringing him blankets and snacks so he didn't have to get up. Making exaggerated yawns and stretching out to give him more personal space.
Their efforts didn't go unnoticed. Natasha watched Peter closely and could pinpoint the exact moment he finally put the pieces together. His eyes went wide, head whipping around to stare at them all.
"You guys know," he breathed, barely audible over the movie's explosions.
Natasha exchanged a look with Wanda, who gave a subtle nod. No point hiding it now. She rested a hand on Peter's knee.
"We know, baby. And it's okay."
Peter's chin wobbled dangerously. He scrubbed a sleeve over his eyes. "Who told you?"
"That would be me and Wanda," Natasha admitted gently. "After yesterday, they had some questions. We thought it was better they hear the truth from us first." She hesitated, suddenly uncertain. "I'm sorry if we overstepped."
But Peter was already shaking his head. "No, I...thank you." He glanced around at them all, eyes shining. "I honestly don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," Steve said seriously. "We just want you to feel safe and supported here."
Peter's breath hitched on what might have been a sob. He pulled his sleeves down over his hands, worrying the fabric between his fingers.
"Thank you," he whispered again. "I was kind of scared how you guys would react. But this...it really means a lot."
Wanda slipped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed gently. "Of course, little brother. We're your family."
A tear finally escaped down Peter's cheek. His breath shuddered out of him. Then he turned and wrapped both arms around Natasha, face pressing into her shoulder. She held him close, meeting Wanda's teary smile over his curls.
"We've got you, sweet boy," she murmured into his hair.
"Always," Wanda echoed softly, hand resting on his back.
Peter pulled away after a long moment, scrubbing at his face. He looked lighter somehow, like a weight had lifted from his slender shoulders.
Natasha smoothed back his hair. "Why don't you pick the next movie, hmm?"
"Can we watch the next Star Wars movie?" Peter asked tentatively.
Clint groaned dramatically. "Here we go..."
"Absolutely," Steve said firmly, ignoring Clint's grumbling.
Peter's answering smile could have lit up the room at full brightness. He leaned contentedly into Natasha's side as Tony queued up the movie with an exaggerated sigh.
Surrounded by his family, safe in the knowledge that he was cared for and accepted exactly as he was. Their extraordinary boy.
It was bound to happen eventually.
They'd had a solid few weeks since the team learned about Peter's autism. There had been minor hiccups, small overwhelms, but Peter had been doing well overall.
Until today.
It started with an early morning call assembling the team for an urgent mission. The others responded promptly, suiting up and assembling on the Quinjet in record time.
All except Peter.
Natasha knew something was off when the kid didn't answer his comms. She found him still in pajamas, sitting on his bedroom floor with hands pressed over his ears.
"Peter? What's going on?"
He lifted pain-filled eyes to hers. "Hurts," he whimpered.
Natasha's heart sank. They'd interrupted his morning routine. She should have realized the change would throw him off.
"I know, sweetheart. But we have to go. Can you get suited up for me?"
Peter shook his head, curling in on himself. Natasha crouched down and rested a hand on his knee.
"Peter, I'm sorry, but we have to move now. This mission is urgent."
He just shook his head again, breaths quickening. Natasha sat back on her heels. She needed to get him up and moving, but she knew force wasn't the answer.
"FRIDAY, can you ask Wanda to come help?"
"Right away, Agent Romanoff."
Barely a minute later, Wanda hurried into the room, taking in the situation at a glance. She moved to sit cross-legged facing Peter.
"Peter, look at me," she coaxed gently. It took him a moment, but finally he lifted pain-filled eyes to meet hers.
Wanda offered a reassuring smile. "I know you feel yucky right now. But we have to get on the jet. Can you take some deep breaths with me?"
She inhaled slowly, prompting him to copy her. They breathed together for a minute, some of the tension leaking from Peter's shoulders.
"There you go," Wanda praised softly. "Now let's get your suit on so we can go, okay?"
Peter hesitated, then gave a shaky nod, letting Wanda and Natasha pull him gently to his feet. They supported him over to the bed where his suit lay waiting.
Natasha watched Peter's hands tremble as he tried to grip the fabric. "Here, little spider, let me help," she murmured, taking over zipping and fastening the suit into place.
Between her and Wanda, they got him fully dressed and ushered him out the door toward the hangar. Peter stayed pliant under their guiding hands, but Natasha could feel anxiety rolling off him in waves.
They stepped onto the Quinjet last, the others turning to look.
"Nice of you guys to join us," Tony said wryly. "Wheels up in one minute."
Natasha shot him a quelling look as she guided Peter to a seat. The kid was breathing too fast, leg jiggling rapidly. She sat down beside him, resting a steadying hand on his knee.
"You've got this, мой паучок. Just try to stay calm."
Peter nodded jerkily, fingers twisting together in his lap. Natasha exchanged a worried glance with Wanda as the jet engines roared to life. This was already shaping up to be a difficult mission.
By the time they touched down at the coordinates, Peter's agitation had only increased. Natasha kept a firm grip on his arm as they disembarked, the others shooting them concerned looks.
"Hey kid, you doing okay?" Sam asked. "Need to sit this one out?"
Peter shook his head sharply. "I can do it," he bit out, a hint of desperation leaking through.
Steve pursed his lips but nodded. "Okay. But speak up if you need an extraction. No shame in that."
He turned to brief the team on their target: a Hydra cell that needed neutralizing. Natasha only half listened, most of her focus on the trembling teenager under her hand.
"Alright, let's move out," Steve ordered once he'd assigned positions. The others sprang smoothly into action.
Natasha guided Peter forward by the arm. "Stick close to me, little spider," she murmured. "We've got you."
They crept toward the squat concrete building, slipping into assault formation on Steve's signal. Natasha felt Peter tense, saw his hands clench and release convulsively.
She caught Wanda's eye, jerking her head slightly at the kid. Wanda's face flooded with understanding and she moved closer on Peter's other side.
Steve blew the doors and they poured in, a well-oiled machine. Natasha steered Peter down the first corridor, relying on her widow's bites and Wanda's powers to clear their path.
"Nice and easy, just like we planned," she soothed under her breath. Peter didn't answer except for his increasingly ragged breathing.
They eliminated a handful of hostiles and kept pushing forward. Peter managed to fire a few web shots, but his hands were shaking badly.
Finally, they reached the main room that served as Hydra's control center. More operatives rushed them from all sides. Natasha and Wanda sprang forward, trying to draw fire away from Peter.
The sounds of battle rang loud in the confined space. Peter stumbled back against the wall, hands clapped over his ears. Natasha's heart lurched.
"Cap, we need to wrap this up!" she shouted over the comms. "Spider-Man is overwhelmed."
"Working on it!" Steve grunted, taking out two operatives with his shield. "Stark, Maximoff, focus fire center mass. Push them into the south corner."
The others complied, herding the remaining Hydra soldiers away from Peter. But the noise and chaos still raged.
Peter slid down the wall, breaths dangerously fast. Natasha abandoned the fight and dropped to her knees in front of him.
"Peter, look at me," she commanded over the din. He just shook his head, fingers digging into his hair. She swore under her breath. "Wanda!"
Wanda was at their side in an instant, face paling when she saw Peter's state. She waved a hand and Peter's hands fell away from his ears as she cocooned them in a muted crimson bubble.
Peter gasped in a breath, eyes flying open. His rapid breaths sounded thunderous in the enclosed space.
"There you go, just breathe," Wanda soothed. "We've got you, little brother."
Natasha grasped his hands before he could start hitting himself. "You're safe, Паучок. Just ride it out."
Peter whimpered, struggling ineffectually to pull free. His eyes were glazed over, choked sobs tearing from his throat.
Wanda shifted her bubble to block their view of the rest of the team still battling. She rested her fingertips lightly on Peter's temples.
"Sleep," she murmured. Peter's eyes rolled back and his body went limp. Natasha caught him before he could hit the floor.
"Nice work," she breathed. Wanda brushed a stray curl off Peter's forehead.
"Poor little brother. That was too much."
Natasha just nodded grimly. They remained huddled together until the sounds of fighting tapered off.
Finally, Steve's voice crackled over comms. "All clear. Everyone in one piece?"
"We're okay," Natasha assured him. "But Spider-Man is down. Sensory overload."
Steve swore under his breath. "Copy that. Let's load up and get him home."
Natasha scooped Peter's limp form into her arms. Wanda maintained her protective bubble as they carried him from the building.
The rest of the team froze at the sight of his lifeless body. Natasha shook her head before they could panic.
"He's okay, just overwhelmed. Wanda's keeping him out until we get home."
The jet ride was silent except for the rumble of engines. Natasha kept Peter cradled close, trailing her fingers through his curls. He remained deeply under, face smooth and breathing steady.
Back at the compound, Natasha carried him straight to his room. She laid him gently on the bed and perched beside him, brushing the hair back from his forehead.
"Oh, little spider," she sighed. "I'm so sorry."
Wanda eased onto the bed on Peter's other side. She lifted her hands from his temples, letting him slowly drift back to consciousness.
Peter's eyes blinked open, eyes cloudy and confused. His gaze landed on Natasha and a broken sob escaped his throat.
"Shh shh, you're safe now, baby," she soothed, gathering him close. "I've got you."
Peter fisted both hands in her shirt, face pressed tightly into her shoulder. She held him as he cried, stroking his hair and murmuring assurances.
After several minutes, his sobs dissolved into hiccups. Natasha tilted his chin up. "There's my brave boy," she said softly, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Think you can eat something? I know you must be hungry."
Peter scrubbed a sleeve across his face and nodded. Natasha handed him off to Wanda with a kiss to his temple before going to scrounge up some snacks.
She returned to find Peter curled against Wanda's side, eyes at half mast. But he sat up when Natasha perched next to him and offered a granola bar.
Peter managed a few small bites between sips from the water bottle she'd brought. His eyes kept fluttering closed before jerking back open.
"Why don't you try to get some rest?" Wanda suggested gently. Exhaustion was etched into every line of Peter's face.
He hesitated even as his eyes drifted shut again. "But, the debrief..."
"We'll handle it," Natasha said firmly. "You just focus on recovering."
Peter still looked uncertain. Wanda smoothed back his hair. "We'll stay right here, brother. You're safe."
That finally seemed to decide him. He slumped back against the pillows, lashes fluttering. Natasha pulled a blanket up over him.
"Sleep well, little spider. We'll be here when you wake."
Peter gave a faint smile, tension bleeding from his frame. Within moments, he was out.
Natasha pressed a kiss to his temple before following Wanda from the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
The rest of the team looked up expectantly as they entered the common area. Natasha held up a hand before they could speak.
"He's sleeping. That was..." She passed a hand over her eyes. "Let's just say I hope we never have to witness that again."
The others exchanged solemn nods. Steve cleared his throat gently.
"We'll debrief in the morning once he's recovered. For now, why don't you both get cleaned up?"
Natasha managed a tired smile. "Thanks, Steve." She squeezed Wanda's shoulder. "I'm going to rinse off. Come get me if he needs us?"
"Of course."
The hot shower helped wash away some of Natasha's bone-deep exhaustion. She re-dressed in comfortable clothes and made her way back to Peter's room.
She found the rest of the team gathered outside. At her questioning look, Steve held up a hand.
"We didn't want to disturb you both, but..." He gestured helplessly to the closed door. "We could hear him crying. I think he had a nightmare."
Natasha closed her eyes. Of course, the poor kid's overworked brain wouldn't grant him an easy sleep yet.
"I'll sit with him. He'll settle easier with me there." She met Steve's gaze. "Thank you again for your patience today. I know it wasn't easy to see him like that."
Steve clasped her shoulder. "We're just glad he's safe now. Let us know if you two need anything."
She watched them retreat down the hall before easing Peter's door open. The kid was curled on his side facing away from her, blankets twisted around him. Natasha crossed silently to the bed and sat leaning against the headboard.
"Oh, baby," she murmured, carding a hand through his mussed curls.
Peter stiffened briefly at the touch before pressing back into it with a hitched breath. Natasha kept up the gentle repetitive motion until he relaxed again, breaths evening out.
She stayed awake watching over him, keeping up a steady tactile connection. Peter settled into a deeper sleep, the ghosts of his meltdown fading away.
Natasha took comfort in the knowledge that whatever challenges came, they would face them together. Peter was truly loved and supported, surrounded by his family.
Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds as Peter slowly drifted awake. For a blissful moment, everything was soft and warm.
Then memories crashed over him like a wave. The interrupted routine. The chaotic mission. Losing control in front of the team. Strong hands holding him down, muffling his ears against the overwhelming input.
Peter jerked upright with a gasp, blinking around the room. His racing heart slowed marginally when he realized he was in his bed at the compound.
Movement drew his gaze to the side. Natasha looked up from her book with a gentle smile.
"Hey, sleepyhead. How you feeling?"
Peter opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Dread curdled in his gut. Nonverbal days after a meltdown were the worst.
Natasha's face softened in understanding. She set her book aside and shifted closer, telegraphing her movements.
"That's okay, you don't have to talk. Do you want me to get you anything?"
Peter managed to shake his head, fingers twisting anxiously in his blanket. Natasha covered his hand with her own.
"Do you need more rest? Or are you ready to get up?"
He held up two fingers after a moment's hesitation. Natasha gave his hand a squeeze.
"Alright, up it is. Take your time."
She moved back to give him space as he crawled reluctantly from the warm nest of blankets. The oversized MIT shirt and soft pants he had on were comforting familiar.
Peter shuffled to the bathroom to take care of necessities and splash water on his face. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and winced. Bloodshot eyes stared back at him, dark hair a tangled mess. He looked away quickly.
Natasha was waiting when he came back out, worry creasing her brow. Peter ducked his head, shame burning through him. Her expression softened further.
"Oh sweetheart, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Come here."
She pulled him into a gentle hug. Peter sank into her embrace, the anxiety in his chest loosening by a fraction. Natasha rubbed his back.
"I've got you, little spider. Let's get some food in you, okay?"
The thought of facing everyone after yesterday made Peter want to crawl back in bed. But his rumbling stomach and Natasha's steady presence propelled him reluctantly down the hall after her.
He halted nervously in the kitchen doorway, overwhelmed by the number of people. Natasha placed a reassuring hand on his back.
"It's alright, they're just here to help. Deep breath."
Peter obeyed, closing his eyes briefly to center himself. When he opened them again, the others had subtly shifted to give him more space.
Steve met his gaze with a gentle smile. "Morning, Queens. Coffee?"
Peter managed a jerky nod. A warm mug was pressed into his hands a moment later. He took a cautious sip, letting the familiar taste ground him.
Natasha guided him to sit at the table before taking the seat next to him. Under the table, she gave his leg a comforting pat. Peter focused on the warmth of the mug in his hands, the bitter coffee on his tongue.
Slowly, the others resumed their own conversations, keeping their voices low. The knot in Peter's chest loosened a bit more. Until Wanda hurried in, that is.
"Peter!" She made a beeline for him before skidding to a halt, taking in his hunched posture and downcast eyes. "Oh, brother. Are you nonverbal today?"
Peter risked a glance up at her concerned face. Her eyes gentled in understanding and she took Natasha's vacant seat instead, reaching slowly to cover his hand with her own.
"That's alright. We're all here for you." She gave his fingers a feather-light squeeze.
The simple assurance made his eyes prickle with tears. He looked down, embarrassed, but not before catching her tender smile.
Natasha returned then with a plate piled high with his favorite breakfast foods. "Eat up, little spider," she instructed gently. "You need to get your strength back."
Peter's stomach growled at the sight of fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon. Natasha watched him closely as he took the first tentative bites under her encouraging gaze.
He couldn't manage more than half the plate before pushing it regretfully away. But Natasha just smoothed his hair back and brought him a vitamin water instead.
"Small steps. You're doing great."
Her steady calm was grounding. Peter sipped his drink slowly, letting his eyes fall shut. Gentle fingers massaging his scalp made him hum appreciatively.
Natasha's quiet laugh vibrated through him. "Feels good, hmm? Finish your water first."
Peter obeyed, cracking his eyes back open and draining the bottle. He set it down with a sigh, gaze drifting around the table.
The others were still giving him space, keeping their voices soft. Sam met Peter's eyes and tipped him an exaggerated wink.
"Pretty quiet this morning, isn't it? Nice change of pace from all of Stark's yapping."
"Hey!" Tony protested, but his offended tone was undermined by the mischief dancing in his eyes. "See if I make your gear upgrades now."
Peter huffed a silent laugh, the knot in his chest loosening further. Natasha's fingernails scratched lightly against his scalp again.
"Why don't we take this to the couch, give Peter some space to decompress?" she suggested.
There were murmurs of agreement as everyone dispersed to begin their days. Peter shot her a grateful look as she steered him to the oversized sectional.
Natasha situated herself in the corner and guided him to lean back against her. Peter settled between her knees, head resting comfortably on her shoulder.
Her fingers carded back into his curls, resuming the soothing repetitive motions. "There we go, just relax. I'll keep you safe."
Peter's eyes drifted shut, tension bleeding from his frame. Here, cocooned in her steady presence, the stress of yesterday seemed far away.
At some point, he registered the TV switching on, volume barely audible. The low drone of some nature documentary filtered through his fuzzy thoughts.
He blinked slowly when something soft and weighted settled over his legs. The sensory input made his breaths hitch until he realized it was just a blanket.
Natasha's hand resumed its calming path through his hair. "Easy, you're okay. Just making you comfy."
Peter hummed, letting his eyes fall closed again. Natasha's quiet voice filtered over him as she narrated the scenes playing out onscreen.
He floated, anchored only by her rhythmic touch and low murmur. Time ceased to hold meaning. There was only this safe space she held him in.
Gradually, he became aware of soft footsteps approaching. Natasha's fingers stilled in his hair but didn't withdraw.
"How's our boy doing?" That was Wanda's voice, pitched low and soothing.
"Better," Natasha answered just as softly. "Still nonverbal but more relaxed now."
A gentle hand came to rest on his ankle over the blanket. "That's good. I'm glad he feels safe with you." Fondness warmed her tone.
Natasha made a quiet noise of agreement, her nails resuming their calming scratch over Peter's scalp. He sagged deeper into her embrace.
"I'll sit with him if you want a break," Wanda offered.
"I'm okay for now. It's been good bonding time." Affection colored Natasha's voice now. "He's a sweet kid."
Peter's cheeks heated, but he couldn't contain a happy hum at the praise. Both women laughed softly.
"I think he agrees," Wanda teased.
Natasha's arms squeezed him a fraction tighter. "Such a good boy for me. My little fighter."
The words soaked straight into Peter's soul, loosening the last bit of anxiety still clinging inside him. He was safe here, cherished by his found family. Everything else could wait.
He drifted back down into that warm, quiet space, lulled by Natasha's steady presence. Her voice wove through his muffled awareness, keeping him tethered.
"That's it, just rest. I'll be right here when you wake."
And surrounded by love, Peter let go and floated away.
When Peter drifted awake the next time, it was to quiet voices and something pleasantly warm tucked around him. He blinked slowly, taking in the familiar setting of the common room.
Late afternoon sun slanted through the windows, gilding everything in soft gold. The smell of something savory made his stomach rumble faintly.
Peter shifted under the pile of blankets enveloping him and sat up with a yawn. The conversation happening across the room cut off abruptly.
"Well hey there, sleepyhead." Tony shot him a grin from where he sat at the dining table with Steve and Sam. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
Peter scrubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. His voice came out raspy from disuse when he replied, "What time is it?"
"Just after 4pm," Steve informed him. "You've been pretty out of it today."
Memories filtered back through the lingering mental fog. Peter ducked his head, fingers finding a loose thread on the blanket to worry.
"Yeah, uh...sorry about that," he mumbled. "And about yesterday. That mission was a mess because of me."
"Hey, none of that."
Peter glanced up to see Natasha enter the room, expression gently chiding. She took a seat beside him on the couch, brushing his hair back from his forehead.
"You have nothing to apologize for, understand? We're just glad you're feeling a little better."
Peter bit his lip but nodded under her searching gaze. Some of the lingering tension in his chest eased at her close presence.
Natasha patted his knee. "Now, are you hungry at all? You should try to eat."
At the reminder, Peter's stomach growled loudly. Natasha laughed while he flushed. "I'll take that as a yes. Be right back."
She returned shortly with a bowl of beef stew and a cup of tea. Peter accepted them gratefully, letting the rich aroma ground him.
Natasha hovered until he managed a few cautious spoonfuls. The savory flavor burst over his tongue, and suddenly he was ravenous. Natasha watched in satisfaction as he began shoveling the stew down.
"Slow down before you choke, malen'kiy pauk," she chided, but fondness colored her tone.
Peter forced himself to eat at a more reasonable pace, blowing on each steaming spoonful before bringing it to his mouth. The stew warmed him from the inside out, chasing away the last of the chill in his bones.
Too soon, he was scraping the bottom of the empty bowl. Peter sat back with a satisfied sigh, eyes already drifting shut again.
Gentle hands caught the dish before it could slip from his loosening grasp. "I'll take that."
Peter pried his eyes open to see Wanda standing over him, a soft smile on her face. Without thinking, he raised his arms in a silent request, feeling all of five years old.
Wanda let out a quiet "oh!" of surprise before carefully wrapping him in a hug. Peter tucked his face against her shoulder, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo.
"Hi," he mumbled sheepishly.
Wanda's laugh vibrated through him. "Well hello to you too, brother. Feeling cuddly?"
"Mmhmm." Peter allowed himself a minute to just soak up the contact before reluctantly pulling back. "Thanks. For everything."
Wanda ruffled his hair. "Of course. I'm glad you're feeling a little more yourself." Her eyes were impossibly fond.
Peter ducked his head again, cheeks warm. His gaze landed on Tony, who was watching them with a complicated expression.
"What's on your mind, Mr. Stark?"
Tony blinked, as if coming back to himself. "Hmm? Oh, nothing kid. Just glad to hear you talking again." He shot Peter a wink. "Too quiet around here without your rambling."
"Hey!" Peter protested through a laugh. Across the room, Steve hid a smile.
"He has a point, Queens. It's good to have you back."
Warm gratitude rushed through Peter's chest. To distract from the sudden prickling in his eyes, he turned to Wanda.
"Have you watched the new episode of Doctor Who yet? I don't want to spoil anything but there's this cool alien planet covered in purple trees and three moons..."
He launched eagerly into an in-depth recap of the episode, complete with enthusiastic hand gestures he had to be careful not to smack Wanda with. But she just listened attentively, making interested noises in all the right places.
Peter was gearing up to explain his newest Lego project when a massive yawn overtook him. He blinked in surprise when it ended.
Wanda smoothed back his hair fondly. "Why don't we save the rest for tomorrow, hmm? You should head to bed."
Peter wanted to protest that he wasn't tired, but another yawn betrayed him. "Fiiine," he sighed. He accepted Wanda's hands pulling him to his feet.
Natasha crossed the room to fold him into a gentle hug. "Sleep well, little spider. We'll see you in the morning."
Peter returned the embrace, hoping it conveyed the depth of his gratitude. "G'night. Love you, Mom."
He didn't realize the slip until he felt Natasha freeze against him. Peter's eyes flew wide in mortification and he jerked back.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—"
But Natasha surged forward and crushed him against her with enough force to squeeze the air from his lungs. One hand came up to cradle the back of his head.
"Oh, my sweet boy," she rasped, voice thick. "I love you too. So much."
Peter could only cling to her, eyes squeezed shut against the burn of tears. After a long moment, Natasha pulled back just enough to cup his face in both hands.
"Get some rest, little one. I'll see you in the morning." She brushed a kiss over his forehead before nudging him gently toward the door.
Peter shuffled down the hall in a daze, emotions swirling dizzyingly inside him. He went through his bedtime routine on autopilot, collapsing into bed with his head still spinning.
But one thought pierced through the tangle in his brain, a glowing ember amidst the chaos.
He was loved. Deeply, fiercely. And tomorrow would bring a new day with his family.
That knowledge followed Peter down into sleep, keeping the demons at bay. He drifted off with a smile still resting softly on his face.
Natasha lingered in the hallway after seeing Peter off to bed, one hand pressed over her racing heart. She could still feel the ghost of his wiry arms clinging to her, hear his sleepy mumble echoing in her mind.
Mom. He'd called her mom.
Joy and terror warred hotly in her chest. She wasn't mother material, not with her bloody past and abundance of issues.
But god, how she loved that kid. Loved his sweet nature and brilliant mind, his rambling enthusiasm and shy smiles. Over the months he'd wormed his way into her soul, entwining their lives together.
Natasha took a shaky breath, scrubbing both hands over her face. She wanted this, wanted him as her son in every way that mattered. But could she allow it without inevitably failing him?
"Hey, Romanoff." Tony's voice at her shoulder made her jump. She whirled to face him, heart lurching. Had he overheard?
But Tony just cocked his head, studying her carefully. "You good? Looking a little shaken over there."
Natasha forced a casual shrug, willing her voice to steadiness. "I'm fine. Just tired."
Tony hummed, clearly unconvinced. But all he said was, "Well come have some dinner then. Can't have our resident spider-mom fainting from low blood sugar."
He spun on his heel before Natasha's brain could process his words. Spider-mom. He knew. Heat flooded her face even as she hurried after Tony's retreating back.
In the kitchen, the others were crowded around the table chatting amiably. Their voices died down as Natasha entered behind Tony.
She avoided meeting their gazes, focusing on filling a plate from the array of takeout containers. But she could feel their eyes on her, imagine the knowing smiles being exchanged.
Her suspicions were confirmed when she finally braved facing them. Clint was smirking outright, Steve hiding a grin behind his hand. Wanda watched her fondly.
Natasha kept her eyes fixed on her plate, spearing a piece of sweet and sour chicken with more force than necessary. She could outlast their teasing, she told herself. She'd endured far worse than some gentle ribbing.
But the pointed silence as she chewed was unnerving. Finally, she snapped.
"Alright, out with it. Say what you want to say."
Steve held up his hands placatingly. "No judgments here. Just happy for you both." The others murmured agreement, but mirth still danced in their eyes.
Natasha suppressed an eye roll with effort. "Can we move on please? It was an accident, he didn't mean it literally."
"Didn't seem that way to me," Wanda interjected gently. "but I understand your hesitation."
Natasha shot her a grateful look. Wanda would understand her conflicted feelings better than anyone.
"Yeah, no need to freak out." Clint's grin turned teasing. "We all know you've got those mom instincts down pat already. Isn't that right, little sis?"
He elbowed Wanda playfully. She flushed but nodded, tucking her hair back. "Well, he does call me his sister sometimes. When it's just us." Her eyes landed on Natasha. "He talks about you more though."
"Aww, little baby spider's got himself a family!" Tony clasped both hands over his heart dramatically. "They grow up so fast."
Wanda swatted his shoulder but couldn't contain a laugh. "Oh hush! He can't help feeling connected to us." Her eyes softened. "After everything he's lost..."
An ache bloomed in Natasha's chest. She stared down at her forgotten dinner, appetite abruptly vanished.
God, what was she thinking? That poor kid had been through so much heartbreak already. If she denied him this comfort over her own fears...
A hand on her wrist drew her focus. She glanced up to meet Wanda's understanding gaze.
"I know that look. Don't overthink this." Her thumb brushed Natasha's pulse point. "He needs you. We both do."
Emotion clogged Natasha's throat. She had to look away, blinking rapidly. Wanda gave her wrist a gentle squeeze before letting go.
"Yeah, lighten up, Nat." Clint nudged her with his elbow. "You're already the team mom. Making it official with mini-Spidey is just one more kid to wrangle."
His teasing tone took any sting from the words. Natasha shook her head ruefully. "More like you overgrown children are the handfuls."
"But we're your handfuls." Tony slung an arm around her and Wanda's shoulders, ignoring their protests. "One big, weird, dysfunctional family. It's meant to be."
Warmth bloomed under Natasha's breastbone, melting the last icy tendrils of fear. She met Wanda's eyes again and saw her own contentment reflected there.
Yes, dysfunctional they may be, but family all the same. And she would do anything to protect that.
Later, after cleaning up the remains of dinner, Natasha bid the others goodnight. But her feet carried her automatically back to Peter's room.
She eased the door open soundlessly, peering into the darkness. A Peter-shaped lump was just visible under the mound of blankets. She smiled fondly and crossed the room to perch on the edge of the mattress.
"Hey, little spider," she whispered, carding a hand through his wild curls. Peter mumbled something unintelligible, leaning into her touch.
Natasha kept up the soothing repetition. "I just wanted to tell you...no matter what you call me, I'm here. I've got you, baby."
Peter shifted closer with a sleepy sigh, face pressed against her hip. She stroked his hair until his breaths evened out again.
"Sleep well, солнышко моё," she murmured. "Mama's here."
Natasha stayed a while longer, keeping vigil over her boy. Her fears could wait for tomorrow. Peter needed her, and she would never let him down again.