And All These Sorrows I Have Seen
The boy sat at the end of the expensive leather couch just a few hours after the call from Nick Fury. He had woken up, jumped from the ceiling, been shown to his room, showered, dressed (in Iron Man pajamas provided to him, much to Tony’s amusement), and now sat, seven curious faces fixed on him.
“You want to tell us what that panic attack was about, kid?” Tony asked, both his eyes and his voice soft.
The boy knew this wasn’t Hydra; he knew that refusal would not result in a beating, but old habits die hard so, despite his mind screaming at him not to answer, he responded.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?” Natasha asked.
“I’m a bad person.”
There was a chorus of “no you’re not,” and he couldn’t tell how many people had said it. He wanted to reply with his disagreement, but that was not allowed.
He winced.
That was not allowed—at Hydra.
The Avengers have made it very clear that they wouldn’t hurt him. And if he was wrong, if he disagreed and they punished him, well, then he deserved it.
“I’m a bad person,” he repeated. “I killed someone.”
“We know, bud. We read your file,” Steve said gently.
“You—I have a file?”
“Yup.”
“Does it—” He bit his lip. Do I have a name, was what he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t bear the thought of the answer being no.
“Peter Benjamin Parker, born August 10, age thirteen, spider-like abilities, and a really good kid,” Tony said, his voice both boisterous and caring.
Peter. Peter Parker. A normal name. He had a name, a real one.
And Hydra took it away from him.
He looked at Tony and, for the first time in years, he smiled a wide, happy smile, one that went from ear to ear and put a sparkle in his eyes, his chest filling with warmth.
“I’ve killed people too, kid,” Bucky said suddenly.
“As have I,” Clint chimed in.
Natasha raised a hand and said, “guilty.”
“Also guilty,” said Sam.
“Same,” Steve mumbled, cheeks reddening slightly.
“My counterpart has caused many deaths as well,” Bruce said.
“Me too, Pete. We all have. Do you think we’re bad people?” Tony finished.
Of course not. How could they be? They saved him from Hydra, gave him an identity, a name. As far as the boy—Peter—as far as Peter was concerned, the Avengers were his heroes. So, timidly, he shook his head.
“So if we’re not bad for killing people, then why are you? You couldn’t prevent it in the slightest,” said Sam.
“Dealt a bad hand, that’s alright,” Bruce continued.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Steve said. “Most of the time, killing is bad. But in your case, it was self defense. You’re a good kid, son. Just ended up with a crappy upbringing.”
And in that moment, Peter decided to believe them.
___
The next couple weeks passed by in a blur.
Tony found out about Peter’s interest in science, engineering, and math, and bought him so many books on those subjects that they didn’t all fit on the black bookshelf in the corner of his new room. He learned that Bucky and Natasha were fluent in Russian, so now he rarely spoke to them in English so that he could improve upon his second language. He also learned that Clint was deaf when he turned off his hearing aids in response to Sam annoying him about something, and then proceeded to close his eyes so that Sam couldn’t continue in sign language. Clint was surprised and ecstatic to find that Peter was fluent in ASL.
He was hesitant at first, but he learned to trust the Avengers within those first couple of weeks.
He was now pretty close with everyone—he even had a thing with each of them.
He had lot’s of “catching up” sessions with Steve, in which they would learn more about life in the 21st century. This included lots of movie-watching and internet-scouring, as well as a significant amount of Vine compilations on YouTube, as per the request of Clint.
He did chemistry experiments with Bruce. It started when he asked if he could run tests on Peter’s “webs” to see how similar it was to that of a real spider’s, and now they were often seen together mixing chemicals and blowing stuff up in Bruce’s lab.
He trained with Natasha. She was the best fighter of the group and decided to be the one in charge of keeping Peter brushed up on his skills. It was always a pleasure to watch them spar together, for their professional nature and the fluidity of their movements made it appear as more of a dance than anything. Not even Bucky kept up with Natasha as well as Peter did.
Sam was like his unofficial therapist. He insisted that everything would remain confidential, so long as it didn’t put anyone in immediate danger, and Peter believed him. He trusted Tony the most, he probably always would, but Sam was the only other person he trusted almost as much.
He played games with Clint and Bucky. They had a checklist with over two hundred board, card, video, and party games that they swore they would finish eventually, even though they continuously added more games than they could keep up with.
He met Pepper four days after his arrival, and they immediately hit it off. He’ll admit, he was nervous at first, but she asked him if he wanted to help her make cookies and, in that moment, his excitement outweighed his anxiety. Since then, Pepper and him have been Baking Buddies.
He didn’t meet Rhodey until a week after he was rescued. Their thing was less blatant of a hobby, but Peter liked it just the same. Their thing was silence. Quiet time without the anxiety that often came with being alone. Rhodey would sit at the table doing work, while Peter sat at the other end, drawing blueprints or reading. Sometimes they did puzzles together. It was peaceful.
His favorite by far was lab time with Tony. They could be in there for hours, working on projects or thinking of new ones. Someone often had to go in there to remind them to leave, whether it be for dinner or sleep, or anything else. He didn’t know if it was his favorite because he loved building things, or if it was because Tony was with him. He realized he found solace in the man that saved him.
During the day, he was—happy? He thinks he’s happy at least, it’s a rather new feeling, but it’s one that he likes. Smiles became more and more present and he was finally at a healthy weight for his height.
The night, however, was a different story. The thoughts hushed to the back of his mind during the day become the center of his attention as he lays in his bed and stares at the ceiling until he drifts off into a nightmare-filled slumber. He often thought about how this was temporary, how one day the Avengers would finally realize how bad of a person he truly was and get rid of him. Whether that meant foster care or Hydra, he wasn’t sure yet, but he was sure that it was inevitable.
But at least during the day he was happy, and that’s all his new makeshift family needed to see.