Chapter 4
It had been two weeks. Two weeks of sitting at his shiny new desk and tapping his pencil on the edge. Two weeks of lying awake in bed, trying to work up his courage. Two weeks of staring at the same address and not doing anything with it.
Two weeks was long enough.
Harley had to do something about this.
Before all of… this, Harley would have sprinted out the door and been on his way faster than you could blink. But now? When he was finally, for the first time in many long months, given the chance? He froze.
As it turns out, apparently being a billionaire has more perks to it than meets the eye. It doesn’t just mean lots of money and cool toys, it also means good lawyers, unimportant legalities and quick processes. It hadn’t even taken three days for the man to adopt Harley.
Everything better for the rich, apparently.
Still, the arrangement kept him in New York, which meant it also kept him closer to Peter. And it’s not like his time with Tony had just been something he had been putting up with. He genuinely enjoyed spending time with the man, tinkering in his lab and watching movies together on the living room couch.
Not only all of that, free internet access all the time. He had a phone now, and a new laptop, which he immediately hacked into in order to assure his history wasn’t being tracked.
Then he continued his search.
He found the address in only a matter of hours, but there was something so terrifying about it, that he chickened out. Again, and again, and again.
The address wasn’t for a slum on the edge of Queens, not for some filthy shit hole of a drunks apartment either. Instead, it was for a high rise right there in Manhattan. It was odd to say the least, and frankly quite concerning. Harley didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t get Peter out of that home, that was the whole reason for why he stayed, because he needed to get Peter back.
He had done a terrific job of that so far.
He sighed. He had the address and about as much willpower as he was going to get. It had been nearly three months since he had last seen his brother, and two weeks since he had the address.
He needed to stop putting it off, there would be time to procrastinate in death. For now, his baby brother needed him.
He snuck out of the tower while Tony was in a meeting, dragged there by none other than Pepper, of course. He gauged he had about an hour before the pair returned and discovered he had long since slipped out. But it’s not like he was running away just… exploring. He was doing errands, was what he said in the note he left.
The building was formal, velvet ropes leading to the door, a doorman, a red carpeted lobby, elevators with the one thousand light up buttons. Harley smirked, Peter must love those.
Even with all that, security had been way too easy to bypass. At least in Harley’s opinion, and that’s considering all of the experience he has under his belt.
The apartment was 332B, on the thirty third floor.
When he knocked, there was a hollar of ‘just a minute!’ from within before a younger woman answered the door. She seemed to be going somewhere nice, perhaps on a date or to gala. She wore a long satin dress that was millimeters away from dragging on the floor and held a black leather clutch. She wore about three pounds of make-up. Harley disliked her immediately.
“Nice to see you Ha-“ She finally, actually, looked at Harley before she wrinkled her brow. “Your not Harold.” Must be her date. Harley thought, along with, Who the hell names their kid Harold?
“No…. I’m look for Peter? Peter Parker?” Harley asks, fingering the note with the address nervously.
“The next visit wasn’t until next week… aren’t you a little young to be a social worker?” She questions, her eyes narrowing defensively as she gives him a once over.
“Yeah, um, I’m Harley.” He stammers and then explains: “Peters older brother.”
“Oh!” The woman exclaims, realization dawning on her face. “Well, he’s out.”
“Out.” Harley deadpans. “What do you mean he’s out?”
“I have a busy schedule,” the woman began, “and the boy’s smart.” Seeing Harley’s flabbergasted expression she was quick to add: “Don’t worry, I gave him some money, he’ll be alright. He’s taken a liking to that little coffee shop by Central Park.”
“Your letting a four year old walk around New York City, alone?!” Harley’s hands clenched into fists at his side, his vision clouds with red.
“Oh, he’s four now?” She asks, seemingly baffled. “I swear he was just three, when was his birthday?” It’s so innocent, asked without even the smallest bit of guilt, that it fills Harley with even more fury.
Harleys blood boils, and he spits: “The tenth!” before he slams the door in her perfectly made up face. He storms back to the elevator, back through the lobby, knocking over a red velvet rope and startling the doorman in his hate.
He was going to go to that damn coffee shop, and that kid better be there.
The coffee shop was somewhere Harley had actually been before, when he and Tony were meeting his social worker when the adoption was just going through. There had been children there, many with their families of course, but he can safely say he hadn’t seen Peter. He thinks he would have noticed a toddler sitting on their own. He knows he would have noticed Peter.
The coffee shop is two blocks away from the woman’s apartment and we walks them both with a quickened pace. He’s angry, both at the world and at himself. Three months, three whole months, and he was finally going to get to see his baby brother again. He just couldn’t believe he had waited that long, that he had wasted that much time.
‘Don’t get your hopes up, Parker.’ Harley reminded himself.
Still, he did get his hopes up, each step closer to the cafe feeling lighter and lighter. But it was for good reason, because when the little glass door jingled as he opened it, guess who was sitting in one of the arm chairs? None other than little Peter Parker.
Harley’s breath hitched, his throat constricted and his vision blurred. This sight of Peter in of itself was almost too much to bare. The little boy in front of him was exactly like he had remembered, quiet and docile, small and sitting huddled in a chair with a book and a chocolate chip cookie.
“P-peter?” He asked, taking a cautious step forward. Peter had always been jumpy and easy to scare. Still, even with the softness of Harley’s voice, the toddler flinched, hurrying to slam his book shut like he had been reading about something other than dinosaurs.
“Harley?!” The boy yelped, taking in his older brothers image before hurrying to rest his cookie on his book and all but leap into the older boy’s arms.
Harley was ready, as he always had been (and always will be) and took the squirming boy in his arms. Peter was light, still too light as he had been at the orphanage. His clothes were still dirty and a bit too large, which didn’t make sense because it looked like that witch back in her penthouse had enough money to at least buy this kid a decent coat. Peter’s hair was caked with dirt and knitted together with snarls, he smelled like wet dog and faintly of old urine.
It strengthened Harley’s burning fire of fury.
“I missed you.” Peter mumbled into his brothers shoulder.
“I know,” Harley said, bouncing the boy, “I’m sorry I let them take you.”
“S’okay.” Peter assured, head still buried in the crook of Harley’s neck. “I was bad.”
Harley stilled at the words, goosebumps rising on his arms and more anger flaring in his chest.
“No. No, Peter you were never bad. Okay? Not ever.” Harley sooths, running his hand up and down the boys back and bouncing him some more.
“D’you come tuh save me?” Peter says, lifting his head, shining big brown puppy dog eyes staring straight into Harley’s own.
“Save you?” Harley asks.
“The lady, she’s mean.” Peter sniffs, Harley stiffens.
“How is she mean?” Harley asks, almost afraid to do so.
“She doesn’t like me. She won’t help me with bathtime a-and no snacks or dinner.” Peter admits. Harley blanches, knowing Peter is barely scratching the surface.
“She doesn’t feed you.” Harley deadpans.
“She says she wants me fo’ the money.” Peter says, eyes watering. “I can’ reach the food.”
“Oh, God.” Harley whispers. Peters been going through shit living with that poor excuse of a human while Harley’s been procrastinating at his brand new desk. He hasn’t been there to protect him, Peter, his little brother, and it makes him feel sick.
“Yeah kiddo, I’m here to save you.” He finally says. “I’ve got some presents for you, and someone for you to meet. Do you want to go see?” He asks, plan formulating in the back of his mind as the boy in front of him takes up the forefront. Peter responds with an over exaggerated nod.
“Okay, okay, lets go.” Harley says, turning to leave the shop. Heart light with happy relief but tight from fear at the same time.
“Wait!” Peter shouts frantically, causing some heads to turn as he squirms in Harley’s grip. “M’cookie.” He says seriously, pointing at the chair.
“Right.” Harley laughs. “How dare me for almost forgetting your cookie.”