Checkmate

A week later...

It was dark. Pitch black; the type of black you’d see when looking up at the night sky in the middle of a forest, or the type of black you see when your eyes are closed and you’re about to go to sleep. But Peter knew his eyes were open, so the situation didn’t really make any sense to him. He knew he was standing, that much was for sure, but he had no idea how he got to this place. It was weird, really. No matter how hard he tried to look for some semblance of light, there was none. The walls were black, the ceiling was black, the floor was black--if he didn’t feel something solid beneath his feet he would’ve thought he was floating.

Hesitantly moving to take a step, Peter felt solid ground hit his foot and he let out a sigh of relief, slowly starting to walk through the darkness. If he was going to be stuck here, he was going to make the best of his time and try to find a way out. He wasn’t panicked in any way, which he found to be a little weird. Based on his memory, in any kind of situation similar to this one of the first emotions he would feel was anxiety, but right now he felt oddly calm. As he continued to walk, he found himself relaxing in the silence, existing as if this was normal and a part of his everyday life. It felt comforting in a way, the seclusion, and he felt a sort of warmth in being alone in this space.

Suddenly, a soft thump filled the space, echoing behind him, and Peter immediately froze, blinking as he finally felt the beginnings of anxiety work into his system. Someone was here. Someone was in this space--his space with him. He was alone with someone else.

“Peter.”

Hearing his name, Peter tensed, swallowing harshly as his brain slowly began to process the familiar, gentle voice. He slowly turned around, heart thrumming in his chest only to come face to face with a middle-aged man, with slightly graying hair and comforting smile. It would’ve only taken a glance for him to put a name to the face, but the man stayed in front of him, watching him with loving eyes and causing him to stare with bated breath as he waited for the man to disappear, for he knew it couldn’t be real. It couldn’t--he was dead. How could he be here, alive and breathing, if he saw him die?

“I’m so proud of you, Pete,” His uncle--Ben spoke softly, that familiar glint in his eye that made Peter want to cry out because this can’t be real, he’s going to disappear, don’t do this to me, I can’t lose him again, please--

“So, so proud.”

“Ben,” the teen softly choked out, emotion welling in his throat. Ben only continued to smile at him, giving off an aura that achingly felt like home.

“You’re going to do great things, kid. Great things.” Although Peter could see that Ben’s mouth was moving, the voice suddenly shifted behind him, as if someone had a speaker playing the sentences and his uncle was only mouthing what he’d recorded. The voice also seemed to change in tone to something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to place it. It was familiar, that much he was sure of, but he didn’t know how or why.

His curiosity getting the best of him, Peter turned around, eyes searching for the source of this new voice. As he continued to look, he heard a soft whoosh behind him, and as soon as the noise softly filtered through the empty space he felt as if his heart had stopped. Memories, bright pictures and scenes of all sorts, poured into his mind, whirling around his head with a vengeance as he suddenly realized that the sound had come from dust, dust, oh god oh god Ben was dust he was dust dust dust-- (Mr. Stark, Tony please I don’t wanna die alone I don’t wanna go oh god oh god, please work, please)

A new figure snapped him out of his mind, standing in front of him, seemingly appearing out of thin air. This figure was garnishing a tailored suit, hair gelled and styled meticulously and a very familiar goatee grown on his face.

“You know I love you, Underoos,” Tony said softly, a rare, warm, genuine smile plastered on his face. Peter’s eyes welled with tears as he stared at the man, the weight of Ben’s disappearance only just sinking in as he realized the inevitable fate of his mentor.

“T-Tony,” he gasped, panic and dread clawing at his chest as he wished he would get that stupid smile off of his face because he’s going to turn into dust dust dust-- (I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna die--)

“You’re already so much better than me, kid. So much better,” the hero whispered, that familiar glint he’d seen in Ben’s eyes flashing in his and it made his heart ache from the pain it caused. He didn’t want him to be so loving, he didn’t want him to care because it made it that much harder when he went away, because he knew he was going to go away. They all were going to go away--they always did.

“We all love you, Peter,” a female voice said, this time more towards his right and he noticed a figure appear in his peripherals. He let out a loud sob, refusing to tear his eyes away from Tony because he knew the man was going to disappear and turn into dust dust dust he’ll turn to dust the second he looked away. And god, he hated Tony because all he was doing was smiling at him with that same warm smile, a sad look in his eyes because he knew, because Tony always knew, and he hated it.

Don’t make me look, Peter pled silently to whatever force was behind this sick game of theirs. Please, please don’t make me look.

“I’ll always be right here, Peter. Always,” May said softly to his side, making his tears run faster. “You know I larb you.”

As if some force had suddenly taken control of his body, Peter turned to the side, facing his aunt fully as Tony filtered out of his sight. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the awful sight of his mentor’s skin graying, flaking as he slowly began to disappear, slowly turning into dust dust, no, no no please, no more dust and fading into the air with a soft whoosh. Peter began to sob, unable to contain the grief that was piling up in his chest, and May’s expression softened, making him feel comforted and pitied and safe in all the right ways as she normally did.

“M-May,” he whimpered softly, taking a step towards her as his body begged for her warmth because god, she’s the only one I have left, please--

“Don’t cry baby,” she softly soothed, and she reached out a hand, a graying hand, he realized, and he let out a loud, ugly sob. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

With those words, Peter fell to his knees, and he wept loudly and openly, fat tears rolling down his face as he watched her body start to disappear with blurry vision. He continued to cry, choking out broken, unintelligible words as every cell in his body begged for her to stay with him.

“Everything will be alright,” May whispered softly, and that soft whoosh rang once more as his aunt disappeared.

Staring at the place where his aunt once stood, eyes wide and brimming with tears, Peter let out a loud, grief-stricken scream, voice breaking as he fell into a harsh sob. The teen wrapped his arms around himself tightly and curled into himself, trembling as he continued to cry out. It seemed like the weight of the world had pressed itself into his back and curled around his chest, constricting it and pushing him down to the ground, making it hard for him to take in air as he sobbed. He choked and sputtered as he struggled to take in a full breath, his thoughts running at a hundred miles an hour as he cried out why why why did you take them from me, why, why, give them back, give them back, give them back--and he took in a loud gasping breath as he felt his throat constrict with emotion, setting a hand on the rough ground as he struggled to keep himself upright. His vision started to darken at the edges as he continued to struggle for air, having worked himself up to the point of hyperventilating, and he clenched his fist around the ashen ground, trying to take in more breaths as he--

Wait.

As if numbed, his panic and grief suddenly ceased as he began to take in a new space around him, the blackness of the voice having been replaced with the barren landscape of a very familiar planet. The sky was the same, awful red hue it had been before, and in the distance he could see the hulking figure of the large, abandoned Titan building that they were seated by when they landed on the planet.

Panting softly, Peter shakily brought up his hand from the ground, red dirt slowly falling from his fist as he uncurled it. He stared at it for a few moments, mind blank as the wetness slowly started to dry on his cheeks, and he sniffled softly, arms dropping limply at his sides as he continued to stare at the expanse in front of him. As he looked, he spotted a soft glimmer in the corner of his eye, and the hero immediately turned in the direction of the sparkle, only to see a large object shining with the reflection of the light pouring into the planet. It was seated between two large blocks of stone, tilted on the edge and swaying as if it would fall at any moment. The light moved around a bit and shifted on the object, and he watched as it methodically moved, swaying picking up and moving faster and faster and faster, and the object began to shake with an uncontrollable power until it plopped on the ground with a loud clank, and only then could Peter identify what the object was.

Sitting on the ground in front of him was a shiny, golden gauntlet with six brightly colored stones seated on the knuckles of each finger, with one in the middle. Peter took in a sharp breath as soon as he saw the object, and his eyes widened as he was suddenly thrown into another whirlwind of memories as he suddenly remembered the panic, panic, pull Peter, pull, come on come on, we’re so close (“We almost got this off! Quill!”) as he was clutching onto that very gauntlet that was seated on Thanos’ hand, tugging on it with Tony when Quill came to terms with his girlfriend’s death.

As if something had taken control of his body, Peter surged towards the gauntlet, heart thrumming in his chest with nothing but the burning desire to obtain the object as he reached out, arm stretching as he moved closer and closer until--

His fingertips just barely touching the golden metal, the gauntlet was sharply tugged out from in front of him, and Peter fell on the ground, hand clutching nothing but more dirt. A spark of anxiety lit in his heart, soon filled with dread as a large shadow started to cover his body and the ground in front of him. The teen immediately lifted himself to a sitting position, and he whirled around, quickly scooting himself backwards helplessly with his hands as his eyes fell upon the looming form of none other than Thanos himself, brandishing the golden gauntlet on his hand once more as he stared at the teen. Peter could only stare with raw terror as the Titan loomed closer, gently brushing a large purple finger against his cheek, the rough pads of the alien’s skin making him want to throw up.

“I commend you, little one,” Thanos said, pulling his finger away. “You were close.”

A soft glow drew Peter’s attention from the Titan’s face, and his gaze slowly moved to the gauntlet, the knuckle of the pointer finger glowing a bright purple as Thanos raised it in front of him with a sickening smirk.

“But not close enough.”

With a soft click, a bright, burning purple light enveloped Peter’s vision and his eyes immediately began to burn, his body completely lighting with nothing but pure power and the teen opened his mouth to scream, only to have the sound be swallowed by the immense, world-ending energy surrounding him. His ears rang with the sheer force of the blast, and his chest tightened with a horrible burning sensation as the light only grew brighter, and his eyes welled up with tears as their temperature rose, his body lighting up more and more with heat, and the ringing only grew higher and higher in pitch as a terrible tingling numbness overcame him, the pain from the blast becoming cool as the temperature peaked over the point his body was able to process. His head shook with the sheer power of the noise around him, and as darkness began to overcome him, he heard a distant, heart-breaking scream that melded perfectly with the ringing in his ears, increasing the volume tenfold as it resounded around the space around him.

“Papa!”

Almost immediately, Peter’s eyes snapped open, panting heavily as his vision began to focus, the ringing slowly fading from his ears as he came to awareness. The teen sat up with a start, body drenched in a cold sweat and dry tear tracks visible on his cheeks as he began to take in the sight of his room around him, and he clenched his sheets, grounding himself in reality as the memories of the horrible dream began to fade.

The harsh ringing having now dimmed to a soft hum, Peter was able to hear the faint sounds of his alarm clock going off in the corner of his room, and he shakily brought a hand up to wipe his forehead of the sweat that was clinging to his skin. Swallowing harshly, his entire body gave a tremble as he buried his face in his hands, the intense emotion of the nightmare catching up to him as his eyes began to fill with tears.

Oh, god.

“Peter!” His aunt’s familiar voice rang from downstairs, and Peter gave a slightly hysterical laugh as the soft reassurance that she’s alive started to drain the anxiety from his chest. “Time to get ready!”

“Okay!” He called back, voice slightly weak as he shook his head, snapping himself fully to attention and he pulled his hands from his face and set them on the bed. Staring at his sheets, Peter slowly swung his legs to the edge of his bed, and, with a small push, he brought himself to a standing position, leaning back slightly as his spine gave a satisfying pop. Leaning forwards again with a soft exhale, the teen’s eyes made their way to his backpack, which was set in the corner of his room. He filled his cheeks with air, letting it out sharply as he mind finally cleared of the horrors of his night and began to fill with his thoughts of the day ahead. Walking to his desk, he looked at his still-beeping alarm clock, and tapped the top of it, effectively shutting it down as he stepped back, looking out his window as the sun softly filtered into his room.

Here we go again.

“I thought HYDRA was supposed to be smart,” Sam said with a huff as the back of the Quinjet opened in front of him. Natasha and Steve were following close behind, Steve with his shield strapped tightly to his arm and Natasha with her widow’s bites still attached to her wrists. “I mean, really, fingerprint locks? Basic.”

“Well, we should be grateful we got a quick one,” Natasha said, walking into the Quinjet. “Now we can go home early.”

“Hell yeah we can,” Sam responded, sitting down on one of the benches to take off his goggles and wipe them off. “A soft couch and some cheap beer sounds great right about now.”

“Mhmm,” Natasha hummed softly in agreement, and Steve gave a slight nod before walking over towards the front of the ship, loosening his shield around his arm and setting it down against the wall. He then took a towel off of a small hook, turning away from the two and began wiping down his face. Sam set his goggles down on the bench and walked towards the chair seated in front of the control panel, pausing as he passed by Steve and whistling as he eyed his backside.

“Damn Cap, that new suit does wonders for your figure,” the hero said, and Steve let out a snort, turning back to him as he began to wipe his neck.

“You mean my ass?” The soldier asked, making his friend chuckle.

“I didn’t know you wanted specifics,” Sam smirked, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side. “You tryin’ to tell me something here Cap?”

“I don’t know, am I?” Steve responded, breaking into a wide smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows. Natasha gave them both a blank stare.

“Ew. Get a room,” the assassin muttered, unclasping her widow’s bites from her wrists. Sam laughed hearing Natasha, and shook his head.

“We’re just playing,” he said, setting his goggles on one of the hooks.

“Yeah, Nat. Just guys being dudes, as the kids say,” Steve spoke, sitting down on a bench facing the opposite of Nat.

“Oh, I’m well aware. Staring at a man’s ass is a hobby of many, it seems,” Natasha quipped.

“I mean, what else am I supposed to do?” Sam asked incredulously, pointing at Steve’s rear. “See that? That right there? That’s America’s ass.” Steve gave a booming laugh in response to the man’s words, doubling over and covering his mouth as a snort escaped his lips. The sudden boisterous laugh startled the other two heroes, though they quickly followed the captain’s example, breaking into loud laughs of their own. Natasha stood up and slapped Sam’s arm, bent over slightly as loud laughter racked her form, only causing the two men to laugh even harder.

“I’m serious,” Sam spoke after a few moments, walking to the front of the chair, still chuckling as their fit began to die down. “That ass right there is bigger than Texas.”

“America’s ass…,” Steve muttered to himself, still laughing softly as he wiped tears of hysteria from his eyes, an arm clenched around his abdomen from the intensity of the laughing fit. Sam sat down in the pilot’s seat and shut the back of the Quinjet, starting the engines, a wide smile still plastered on his face. Eventually, the air of humor faded completely, leaving the three in a comfortable silence as they lifted into the air and began their journey back to the tower.

Steve exhaled softly, leaning back against the wall of the jet as he crossed his arms, staring at the ground as he started to slowly lose himself to his thoughts. Albeit all of this Thanos stuff suddenly appearing out of nowhere, which was concerning, don’t get him wrong, there was still something that was still gnawing at his mind, constantly pushing its way to the front of his thoughts and diminishing the whole situation to nothing but a pea sized worry. He obviously knew the importance of stopping the Titan and was wholeheartedly dedicated to saving the universe from his reign of terror, but that didn’t stop a certain unresolved conflict from distracting every so often during times he was left to his mind.

It, of course, was Bucky.

Ever since the situation concerning HYDRA and SHIElD arose nearly a year ago at this point, Steve hadn’t heard a single whisper of his best friend. He’d looked, he’d always been looking for some sort of obscure news story across the sea concerning a suspicious looking man with a metal arm, but there’d been absolutely nothing that hinted even a little towards Bucky. It frustrated him. All he wanted was to be able to talk to Bucky, only once, in a controlled, civilized environment. He needed it--that man was the only tie he truly had to his old life before this, before the Avengers and Loki and Thanos.

After the Battle of New York Steve was so sure that he’d be able to leave behind that old war-hero life of his back in the 40s. He’d been fully prepared to die when he’d crashed into the ice, and although realizing no one he knew was alive (Except for Peggy, he thought with a sharp twinge of his heart) was difficult to deal with, he’d figured it was the same as death would’ve been. He would’ve been alone, without everyone regardless of what had happened. But when he fell into that lake and he saw those familiar, sharp blue eyes of Bucky’s pulling him out of the water, he knew he had to talk to him. Bucky was a living, breathing reminder of what had been, and it killed him to not get at least some closure. Hell, he’d thought Bucky was dead even before he’d woken up in the twenty-first century, and now, to have that part of his life that he thought was long gone right in front of him was torturous.

There’s still some of Bucky left in him, I know it, Steve thought to himself, eyebrows furrowed in thought and he stared intently at the ground with a strong determination in him. I just gotta find him. I have to.

“Is it him?” Natasha asked softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. Steve exhaled softly, meeting her rare, warm eyes and nodded.

“You knew we can’t do anything about him. At least not right now,” Sam piped up softly from the front of the plane.

“I know. It’s just been so long since we’ve heard anything about him, and I’m worried,” Steve responded, uncrossing his arms and clasping his hands together, shoulders tense.

“Barnes can take care of himself,” Natasha said, the certainty in her tone welcome, but not much help.

“That isn’t what worries me,” Steve whispered, and a hush fell over the other two heroes, the same thought crossing all three of their minds. It stayed like that for a few moments, each of them dipping into their own minds until the Quinjet landed, the silence being broken by the sound of the back of the jet opening up. Sam exhaled softly, standing up from his seat and turning to Steve, flashing him a comforting smile before speaking.

“Well, regardless,” he started, “you have some say in any decision that might be made. You’re Captain America, for god’s sake.” The man walked over to Steve and clasped a hand on his shoulder, patting it reassuringly and looking at him in the eyes.

“The government would never turn against you.”

Meeting Sam’s friendly eyes, Steve couldn’t help the cold grip of uncertainty that clawed onto him as he thought back to Bucky’s cold, steely glare, and the whispers of the SHIELD-turned-HYDRA agents in the elevator as he stepped inside, surrounded by people that he thought he could trust.

Would they?

Blinking, Steve quickly shook those thoughts away, because they wouldn’t, they’re all good people, and he allowed himself to relax, nodding slightly as he mirrored the pilot’s smile.

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” Natasha said, standing up and giving him her usual smirk. “Let’s head inside.”

Steve mutely nodded, and he stood up, no more conversation being said as the three silently made their way into the tower, the doors opening up automatically as the three walked through the rooms of the floor and eventually into the elevator. The doors gave a soft ding as they opened, allowing the three heroes inside, and with the click of a button, they had arrived on the Avengers’ main floor in only a minute.

Walking into the open-concept living room, dining room, and kitchen combo, he spotted none other than Tony leaning against the island, heavy dark circles underneath his eyes and a cup of coffee in his hands. He was wearing a simple MIT hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, contrary to his normal Armani suits and expensive material. The billionaire quickly spotted the group and flashed them his signature cocky smirk before straightening up.

“And here they are!” Tony announced loudly, though with a little less energy than normal. “Regina George and her posse have returned, everyone.”

“Nice to see you too, Tony,” Natasha said dryly.

“You look like shit,” Sam commented, earning a sharp look from Tony before the billionaire turned to deliberately smile sweetly at the assassin in front of him.

“Nice to see you too, Widow,” he said, setting down his coffee cup as he looked around at the three. “Funny coincidence you guys showed up, because I actually have some good news to share.”

“Good news?” Steve echoed, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as he eyed his teammate.

“Don’t be so skeptical, I’m capable of giving good news,” Tony said, giving the soldier a look.

“Well, what is it?” Natasha asked.

“Hill was able to get into contact with that ant scientist guy Vision said you guys talked about last week,” Tony responded, smiling at the brightening expression of the three as the words sunk in.

“And? What did he say?” Steve inquired, a bit of excitement slipping into his tone as his eyes widened slightly.

“He’s on board,” Tony said with a wide smile. “Both literally and figuratively. They’re flying over now.”

“Tony, that’s great,” Natasha said softly, a wide, genuine smile finding its way onto her face as she looked at him. “That’s really great.”

“See? I told you I was capable of good news,” Tony said smugly, and Sam laughed with a wide grin of his own.

“Yeah, yeah,” the pilot said, his annoyed tone betraying his expression.

“We’re finally going to get somewhere,” Steve said softly, looking around at the three.

“Hopefully,” Tony added.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Sam asked, and the other three heroes turned to him, each bearing expressions of confusion at his words. He sighed, shoulders dropping as he elaborated, “The kid. Peter.”

“Oh,” Tony said simply, blinking as something quickly flashed over his face at the mention of the teen’s name.

“I’ll shoot him a text and get Clint to bring him here,” Natasha spoke, taking out her phone and sparing a glance at the time before opening it. “He’ll be out of class in about ten minutes.” Steve nodded slightly in response at this, eyeing Tony as the billionaire continued to stare, and the soldier could see his mind whirling. He looked at Natasha with a small smirk, and the assassin reflected it before looking at the man.

“You might want to change into something other than your pajamas if Pym is on his way, Tony,” Natasha commented, causing the billionaire to snap out of his daze, blinking as he looked down at his clothing.

“Right--yeah, that’s wonderful advice. Thank you,” he said, beginning to move towards the door as he stumbled into the counter, nearly spilling his coffee mug as he set a hand on the island to ground himself. Tony flushed, clearing his throat a little as he adjusted his glasses, letting out a soft breath before ducking to the door.

“I’ll be right back.” And with that, Tony had left the room. The three heroes started at where the storm of a man had exited for a few moments, and Sam looked at the two, setting his hands on his hips as he addressed them.

“He’s definitely whipped,” the pilot said with finality, and Natasha rolled her eyes, pulling her phone up to her ear and stepping out of the room.

“--and it has over five hundred pieces. It’s crazy cool!” Ned exclaimed, and Peter nodded, slipping his backpack off of his shoulders as he went to grab his jacket from inside his locker, slipping his arms through the sleeves as his friend bubbled excitedly next to him

“Yeah, sounds super cool,” Peter responded a little absentmindedly as he glanced over his locker. He reached to the shelf seated at the top and grabbed a small bottle from the back of the compartment.

“What’s that for?” Ned asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he moved closer to get a better look at the bottle. Peter bit his lip, falling silent for a moment as he looked around at the groups of students around them, checking to see if any of them seemed any interested in their conversation before flipping the bottle over to reveal the label taped on the front.

“It’s the fluid for my web shooters,” the hero said softly, turning around slightly so Ned could read the label.

“Your web shooters?” the boy asked softly, head tilting to the side in slightly confusion before his eyes widened, his mouth dropping to a gape as he quickly spoke, “Wait, you mean for Spi--”

With a sharp breath, Peter quickly clamped one of his hands over Ned’s mouth, body tensed as he hushed loudly, “Shh!!” Some people around them turned around at the noise, and Peter winced, slowly taking his hand away from his friend’s mouth.

“Ned, you need to stay quiet about that!” Peter chastised softly, causing his friend to quickly nod, eyes still wide.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but that’s honestly so cool!” Ned exclaimed softly, his expression bright with excitement as his eyes practically sparkled from his happiness. “I really can’t believe that you’re doing all this stuff, it’s just so…”

“Cool?” Peter asked, expression breaking into a fond smile as he watched his friend continue to bubble with childish excitement.

“Cool! You’re so cool!” Ned said, bouncing a little on his feet. “I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for involving me in his part of your life because this honestly the best thing that has ever happened to me. Thank you so much, dude.”

“Ned, I already said you don’t need to thank me. You’re my best friend,” Peter smiled, lightly tapping Ned’s arm with a fist in a playful gesture. Ned’s eyes widened slightly at the contact, and he stared at his arm with a dulled awe before nodded.

“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly, eyes not moving from his arm. Peter chuckled, turning back to his backpack to put the web fluid inside before a sharp, loud voice interrupted his actions.

“Aww, well isn’t this just adorable.”

Tensing, Peter immediately whirled around, shoving the fluid behind his back as he was met with none other than a shorter, younger version of Flash Thompson, the resident rich-boy dickhead that had been a constant in his life ever since he’d started middle school. Ned deflated at his side, and he sighed, turning to the bully with an unamused expression.

God, not this again.

“Flash, go away,” Ned said, and Flash ignored him, opting to zero in on Peter as he usually did during exchanges like these.

“What are you both freaking out over, huh? I bet it’s something nerdy,” he sneered, taking a step towards the two. “You fangirling about how much you wanna stick your tongue down Luke Skywalker’s throat or something?”

“Go away Flash,” Peter muttered, a small edge to his tone as he spoke.

“Why? What is something I said?” The teen said, smirking as he noticed Peter’s arm hidden behind his back. “Whatcha hiding, Penis?”

“Nothing,” the spiderling said, body tensing as he tightened his grip around the bottle.

“Nothing? Well, it sure doesn’t seem like nothing,” Flash said, narrowing his eyes as he reached out of his palms, looking at him expectantly. “Hand it over.”

“No,” Peter responded almost immediately.

“Hand it over,” Flash urged, pushing his palm forward a little as Peter shook his head defiantly.

“No!” v“Hand it over, or I’ll force it out of your sweaty little hands myself,” the bully hissed, and Ned flinched slightly at his side, looking at Peter with nervous eyes. The hero only shook his head once more, lips tightening into a line as he swallowed harshly, almost certain of what the boy in front of him was going to do next, and he tensed, bracing himself for his actions. Don’t engage, he thought quietly to himself, forcing down all urges to quip and jab at the boy in response to his words.

Flash looked at him, waiting with his palm extended for a few more moments before slowly bringing his hand back to his side, chest puffing out slightly in arrogance as a smirk played at his lips. “Fine,” he said, clenching one of his hands into a fist as he began to raise it up. “You asked for it.”

With a sharp crack, Flash brought a fight down sharply onto Peter’s cheek, and he winced slightly, expression tightening as he head snapped to the side. Ned’s eyes widened, a gasp escaping his mouth as he exclaimed, “Peter!” His friend then turned to the bully, expression morphing into one of shock. “He just said no! You didn’t have to do that!”

“Well, I did.” Setting his hands on the front of Peter’s shirt, Flash pushed him back slightly towards his locker. “You’re not gonna fight back, are you? Puny little Penis Parker can’t fend for himself, huh? Has to be babied by his precious widdle aunt because he’s all alone?” He taunted, gripping the arm holding the web fluid as he tried to pull it out from behind his back. Peter’s eyes narrowed and he quickly slapped Flash’s hand away, the bully tensing slightly as he glared at the teen.

“Don’t talk about May,” Peter spoke softly, glaring at the boy.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Flash jested as he gave the spiderling’s arm another sharp tug, this time pulling his arm out and snatching the web fluid out of his hand. “Web fluid?” He read, eyebrows furrowing as he spun the bottle around. “The hell is that?”

Ned stared in shock as the bully ripped the fluid bottle right out of Peter’s hands, and his eyes widened substantially as he looked at his friend with a pleading stare, the spiderling meeting his eyes and he locked him in a silent conversation, mouthing, “What are you doing? Fight back!” Peter’s eyes softened at this, an unidentifiable emotion passing over his face as he shook his head, quickly turning back to Flash, who was still examining the bottle with confusion.

“This some kinda nerd juice or something?” the bully asked, and Peter nearly scoffed at the ridiculousness of the insult. He bit back the urge to quip something back, instead opting to give the boy a tight response.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Oh?” Flash’s eyebrow quirked up, and he smiled, pinching the bottle’s top as he dangled it from two fingers above the floor. “So you won’t mind if I just drop it right here?”

“Flash, don’t!” Ned exclaimed, clearly treating the bottle as something much more valuable than Peter was. However, Peter didn’t exactly want to tell Flash to go ahead and smash it because the web fluid was in such short supply, so he opted to stay silent instead. The bully seemed to disregard Ned altogether as he watched Peter’s silent form with a mean smirk, shaking his head slightly as he tightened his grip around the bottle, preparing to throw it towards the ground.

“Alright. Here goes nothing,” Flash taunted, raising his arm slightly and bringing it down, sm--

“It’s for Tony Stark!”

Flash froze in his movements at the sharp cry, and the students around them paused as well, now taking note of the conversation. Peter immediately began to pale, strings of curses flowing through his brain as the one thing he didn’t want his friend to say slipped out of his mouth. Ned, you idiot--

“Peter...he-he has an internship with Tony Stark!” Ned said, a little breathless and pink from the sudden attention. “It’s a super secret project he has to do for him.” Flash stared at his friend, blinking as his hand dropped to his side, and Peter could see the gears whirling in his head as he tried to process the information.

“An internship with Tony Stark?” he repeated slowly, turning to Peter to eye him up and down, eyebrows raised. “Really?” The bully broke out into a smirk as he continued to look over the spiderling, a loud laugh escaping Flash’s lips, causing even more people to stop and look at them. Peter’s cheeks burned as he continued to laugh harder, bordering on hysterical, and he looked down to avoid his peer’s gazes.

“Hear that, everyone? Penis Parker has an internship with Tony Stark!” A few giggles could be heard from the small crowd of students, and Flash’s lips tugged up into a cheshire grin as he walked closer to Peter, stopping just a few inches in front of the teen and he loomed down over him.

“You must really be a whore for attention if you need to make stupid claims like that to get people to look at you,” Flash hissed softly. “Take your stupid ‘secret project.’” The bully then shoved the bottle of fluid into Peter’s hands, and the teen’s hand slipped a little before he gripped the bottle tightly. “You make me sick, Parker. Sick.”

Training his eyes on a spot on the ground, Peter forced his expression to stay neutral, staying silent as he patiently waited for Flash to walk away, cheek still stinging slightly from the punch. The students started to shift a little around them as, from further down the hall, a security guard started shouting at the crowd, pushing through them and urging them out of the way.

“Move it, move it! Head to your busses!”

More of the kids started to dissipate as the shouting grew closer, and Flash leaned back slightly, giving Peter one last dirty look before walking away. The spiderling let out a soft breath of relief when the bully’s presence faded, and his gaze shifted to his backpack, left neglected on the floor, and he crouched down to finally put the bottle of web fluid inside.

“Peter, what are you doing? Why didn’t you fight back?! You’re way stronger than him now--you’re an Avenger!” Ned said, looking at him with slightly panicked eyes.

“That’s why I didn’t fight back,” Peter said softly, zipping up his backpack and slipping it onto his back. Rolling his sleeve up a little, he wiped his cheek and pursed his lips seeing the small dot of blood that soaked into the fabric. That’s gonna bruise later, he thought with a wince before looking at Ned. “If Flash realizes he can’t fight me, he’ll fight someone else who isn’t as strong as me. Plus, I can’t exactly use super strength on a middle schooler.” He said the last two words with emphasis, saying them with a slightly distaste and a tone that implied they took place a bit lower down on his list of preference than normal people.

“Hey,” Ned spoke, giving him a playfully but slightly genuine offended look.

Peter laughed softly. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

Looking at his friend for a moment, Ned eventually sighed, expression softening as he exhaled. “Okay, yeah. You’re right,” he muttered, pausing slightly before adding, “and uh, I’m sorry about saying the internship thing. I know you said it was kind of a problem before.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Peter said with a small smile, starting to walk out towards the busses, Ned keeping pace with him at his side as he moved. “It’ll give me a good excuse if any Avengers decide to show up here.”

With those words, Peter walked outside, the two falling into a soft silence until he felt a small tap at his shoulder. The teen paused, eyebrows furrowing as he turned around, only to spot a very familiar figure brandishing a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses, smiling widely at him. Peter’s expression morphed into a deadpan.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

“Hey kid,” said none other than Clint, shoving his hands into his pockets as he gave him a toothy grin.

“Hey Clint,” Peter grumbled, and the archer laughed seeing his obvious annoyance.

“What, too cool to be seen with a guy like me at school?” he asked, and Peter puffed his cheeks slightly, eyes darting around as he kept a close eye on who seemed to be looking in his direction.

“More like too nerdy,” he muttered under his breath, and Clint’s eyebrows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to respond only to be interrupted by Ned, who had, until then, been staring at the Avenger with a slightly gaped jaw, eyes wide with shock.

“Clint? You mean like Clint Barton? Like, Hawkeye the Avenger Clint Barton?” His friend asked, voice slightly breathless as he stared up at the man in awe. Said Avenger stole a glance in Peter’s direction, a silent ask for permission as he knew Peter’s identity was important to him. It was one of the first things the team had figured out about the elusive teen during the week they’d known each other, and after a slight freakout concerning a call from his aunt (“You told her I was at the tower?” “Well, I didn’t think--” “That’s right, you didn’t think! God, she can’t know about this, not right now, not after--not--” “Peter, breathe--”), they realized not to pry too much into his personal life. Peter nodded at the man in response, giving him a reassuring smile to indicate that it was okay. The archer smiled, eyes falling back onto Ned as he began to speak.

“The one and only,” Clint said, his tone turning slightly smug as he watched Ned sputter and gape helplessly out of sheer awe at coming in contact with the man.

“Oh my god,” Ned managed to choke out, though it ended up being something more like a whisper. The archer laughed softly in amusement, and sent his gaze back to Peter, raising an eyebrow as he looked him over.

“Kid, what the hell happened to your cheek?” Clint asked, and Peter immediately flushed, looking down self-consciously in a feeble attempt to hide the small bit of swelling.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” he muttered a little coldly, causing the archer to blink in surprise. He fell silent for a soft pause at this, choosing not to press about it, which Peter was grateful for. The Avenger’s expression then turned serious as he began to speak, voice lowered slightly as he looked at the teen.

“Well anyways, Fury was able to get through to Pym and they’re heading to the tower now,” Clint said, becoming tense and keeping a close eye on the kids wandering around them. Pulling his phone slightly out of his pocket, he checked the time, quickly pushing the device back in afterwards. “They’ll probably be there by the time we get through traffic.”

“Really? That quickly?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Apparently,” Clint said. Peter then blinked, the information fully registering in his head as he gave the archer a blank stare, cocking his head a little to the side.

“Wait, what do you mean we?” He questioned.

“I’m here to pick you up,” Clint spoke, taking a hand out of his pocket to point at a sleek black car parked just outside the school. Definitely one of Tony’s cars, he thought, and Ned gave a small squeak at his side as the boy’s body was further seized by shock. Both heroes turned to his friend, looking at him for a few moments as he continued to look forwards, unresponsive. Clint gave Peter a questioning look, and the teen shook his head.

“He’s just excited.”

“Right,” Clint muttered, giving Ned one last look of confusion before focusing his attention once more on Peter. “Kid, you do realize we need you for this, right? You’re basically leading this whole operation.”

“Well, I mean,” Peter flushed hearing the words being spoken out loud, “I realized but I didn’t really...I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly, causing Clint to chuckle and sling an arm around his shoulders in perfect dad fashion, ruffling his hair as he spoke.

“Oh, how humble and naive you are,” he said fondly, patting the teen’s shoulder. “But seriously, we need to get going before Nat kicks both my ass and yours.”

Peter laughed, nodding. “Okay,” he said, smiling as he looked at Ned. “Hey Ned, is it alright if I tell May that I’m at your house?” Ned only nodded in response, staring at the pair with a blank form of shock. The expression pulled a laugh out of the spiderling and he smiled, waving at his friend as he began to be ushered away by Clint.

“Thank you! See you tomorrow!” Peter said with a smile. Ned waved, eyes still wide. Clint chuckled, turning behind him to wave at the boy as well.

“Bye Peter’s friend!” The archer said, and the two began moving towards the car parked a little ways away. Clint pulled his arm away from the teen, adjusting his sunglasses as he walked.

“So, you guys close?” Clint asked, tilting his head back slightly to gesture back towards Ned. Peter nodded, a smile rising to his lips.

“He’s my best friend,” he responded. “We’ve basically grown up together.”

“Aww,” the Avenger smiled, causing Peter to flush lightly in embarrassment. “What’s his name?”

“Ned.”

“Ned. He seems like a really nice kid.”

“He is,” Peter smiled, thinking back to the countless times his friend had pulled him out of his head and helped lift him back on his feet. “He’s the best.”

Clint only smiled warmly at this, walking up to the car and around to the driver’s side, tapping the top of the vehicle as he said, “Hop in, kid.”

With a nod, Peter opened the door and slipped into the car, and, in no time, the two were off for the tower.

Stepping out of the elevator, Peter walked onto the Avenger’s main floor with Clint close behind him. He made his way towards the living room, voices echoing out into the hall as people conversed inside. His head perked up slightly at this, listening in on the small talk as he continued to walk closer.

“So you used the particles instead of the regulation circuit I used,” Tony muttered, his tone taking something akin to awe.

“In summary, yes. I believe so,” another voice responded, a male one, a bit more gravelly and old than the teen was used to hearing.

“That’s fascinating,” the billionaire responded, and Peter walked in the room, causing the man to quickly turn around to look at him. Tony was standing by the kitchen island with another older man, brandishing white hair and a pair of black glasses. The other man turned around, and the teen’s eyes widened as he recognized the face of none other than Hank Pym.

“And there’s the man of the hour,” Tony said with a smile.

“You must be Peter,” Hank spoke, a small smile gracing his lips as well. Peter’s eyes widened, and a blush quickly rose to his cheeks as he became overwhelmed with the man’s attention.

“U-Uh,” he stammered for a moment, nodding quickly as more redness rose to his cheeks. “Yes, I am. I-It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Pym.”

“It’s an honor to meet you too. I’ve heard much about you,” Hank responded, stealing a glance at Tony as he continued, “Though for a moment, I did doubt your judge of character.” Tony’s eyes narrowed into a small glare at this, and he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Peter smiled a little at the jab, to the billionaire’s displeasure.

“Dad, I’ve gathered the data like you asked,” a female voice rang from outside the room, and soon, another three figures had entered the room. Turning towards the door, Peter watched as a woman, somewhere in her thirties, entered the room, and from the light of recognition in Hank’s eyes, the teen realized that the woman must be Hope Van Dyne, Hank’s daughter. His eyes sparkled with awe as two other very familiar figures, a man and a woman, entered behind her, each holding their own air of authority as they moved. The eyepatch covering the man’s eyes was all Peter needed to put together that the pair was Nick Fury and Agent Maria Hill, and Peter barely caught himself as his jaw began to unconsciously drop open, eyes widening as he watched them.

Hope stopped at the side of the group, holding a small flash drive in her hands, and she glanced around the room, quickly taking note of Peter and looking him over. “This the kid?”

“Y-You’re Hope Van Dyne,” Peter said softly, mind whirling as he tried to process through the absolute awesomeness (Oh my god, how is this my life?!) of the situation.

“Yeah, that’s my name,” Hope said with a small upwards twitch of her lips. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Peter.”

Oh my god they all know my name this is amazing, he thought with wide eyes, nodding slightly as he sputtered out, “Y-You too.” Blinking softly, Peter’s thoughts slowly caught up the words he’d said, and he immediately flushed.

“I-I mean me too,” the teen quickly corrected, causing both Hank and Hope to give him amused smiles. Fury only raised an eyebrow at this, stealing a glance at Tony, who only sighed in response. The direction then looked back in the direction of the teen, stepping forwards, catching Peter’s attention.

“Since we’re doing introductions, I might as well join in the fun,” Fury said, holding out a hand towards Peter. “Nick Fury.”

A part of Peter’s brain short circuited at the gesture, and, without much thought, he grabbed the man’s hand tightly. “P-Peter Parker.”

“Tight grip,” Fury noted with a smirk. The spiderling’s eyes widened with surprise at this, and he quickly pulled back his hand.

“O-Oh, sorry. I just, uh--” Flushing with embarrassment, Peter quickly cut the beginnings of his rambling off, still retaining some semblance of dignity through his immense fanboying. Opting for a quicker explanation, he simply muttered, “Strength and all that.”

“So I’ve heard. You’re enhanced, right?” The director asked. Peter nodded slightly, and opened his mouth to respond when--

“No. We’re not doing this today,” Tony quickly cut in, holding out a hand as he looked at Fury with a pointed look. “You? Keep your creepy recruiting to yourself.” Turning back to the three scientists, the billionaire continued, “We’re going to head over to the labs so we can talk business or whatever. Science and all that.” Hill raised an eyebrow at this, looking at Fury with a knowing look and smiling. Fury only chuckled softly in response, showing that same glint in his eyes.

“Lead the way,” Hank said, gesturing for the billionaire to move, and Tony immediately began to walk towards the doorway situated at the side of the room. Hank, Hope, and Peter followed close behind the man as he made his way into the hallway, glass-rimmed and sparkling in all of its glory. Peter gazed out the window with fascination as he watched all of the various agents and workers move throughout various rooms and up and down hallways, and he could see Hope doing the same. Hank seemed to pay no mind to it, though.

Eventually, they reached the end of the hall, and Tony set his hand on a panel by a metal doorway, opening it and leading them into his lab.

Turning back to face them, Tony announced, “This is only the first floor, so if you need space to work you can head upstairs.” Hank nodded, walking slightly ajar from the group to examine the space more closely.

“Thank you, Stark,” the scientist said, and Tony gave a small smile. Hope began to make her way over to the computer situated at the from of the lab, and she plugged the small flash drive into the computer and started to download the information into his mainframe, blue holograms popping up around them at random as the information began to process.

“I’ve downloaded both our files and yours into this flash drive so we can stay somewhat organized,” Hope said, turning back to look at them. “I’m assuming the first thing we’ll need to do in order to start creating something that can come into contact with these infinity stones is to determine what they’re made of, correct?”

“Or what they give off,” Hank added.

“Well, we know from the studies on the Tesseract that they give off heavy gamma radiation,” Tony said, exhaling as he leaned against one of the counters. “And technically we’ve already created things that work with said object, like a portal to space.”

“But that doesn’t exactly manipulate the stones like what we heard in the debriefing,” Hope countered. Tony shrugged.

“It’s a start.”

Hank exhaled softly, walking over to one of the holograms and pulling out each of the files that showed a drawn diagram of each stone. “We need to figure out what exactly is contained inside these things.”

“Well, we know they’re self-sustaining energy sources,” Hope stated.

“And they give off radiation and light. Like a star.” Tony walked up to one of the stone’s holograms, the reality stone, and looked at it closely. “They were made in the Big Bang, so we know their composition must be something related to objects created there. It could just be a really, really condensed star.”

“That could explain why people burn up when touching them,” Hope suggested, but Peter furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head.

“No, that’s not right,” the teen said softly, causing the three scientists to look at him. “I’ve seen Thanos create a black hole in his hands using the space stone. There’s no way a star could do something like that, regardless of how dense it is. The stones have a sentient control over the matter around them.” Letting out a small breath, his voice dropped to a mutter as he added, “I’d almost go as far as to say they create matter.”

“That can’t be,” Hank said after a small pause. “If that were true, the Law of Conservation would be false, and everything we know about space would have to be rewritten. There’s no way.”

“It’s plausible.” Hope looked at her father. “The time stone would have to have free control over lightspeed in order to travel back and forth in time at our size. These infinity stones basically break everything we know about the laws of our world.”

“Well then, how the hell do we do this?” Tony asked, hands dropping to his sides. “How do we harness something that shouldn’t even exist?”

“The same way Thanos did,” Peter said softly. A hush fell over the room at his words, and they all looked down, dropping into thoughts of their own as the mulled upon what the teen said.

After a few moments, Hope looked up, drawing in the other’s attention as she took in a short, audible breath. “What did the gauntlet look like, Peter?”

“Uh.” Peter paused, thinking of how to describe the intricate object’s workings. “I could sketch it out if you like?” He offered with a small lift of his shoulders. “It’s a little hard to describe.”

“I got you,” Tony said, and with a tap on one of the holograms, he pulled up google images and searched up the word ‘gauntlet.’ Immediately, a page of pictures of various metal gauntlets filled the screen and he looked back at Peter. “Pick one. You can manipulate the structure after.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he looked over the large array of images, and he nodded, speaking a soft, “Okay.” He walked up to the display and scrolled for a few moments, searching through the pictures until he spotted a golden gauntlet that looked similar to the one Thanos was brandishing. Tapping it, the picture expanded into a 3D image, and he quickly got to work, pulling and prodding at different areas and working at it as the other scientists began to softly discuss different ideas.

“Maybe a little wider,” the teen muttered softly to himself, tugging at the end of the image to expand it outwards. After a few more moments of editing and fine-tuning, he stepped back to fully look at the image in all of its glory. A chill went down his spine as he gazed upon the edited gauntlet, swallowing harshly as images of Thanos using his own gauntlet came to mind. He’d definitely gotten the picture to look accurate. Maybe a little too accurate, he thought as he began to pale slightly.

“That’s what it looks like,” Peter spoke, words slightly choked, and the three looked at the image with a close interest, each of them scanning over every little detail of the gauntlet.

“And those holes are where the stones went?” Tony asked, and Peter nodded, responding with a short, “Yeah.”

“Do you know what kind of metal was used?” Hope inquired, looking at the teen.

“Something alien, probably. I doubt it was made with anything on Earth,” Peter responded, and Hank cursed softly to himself as soon as the words exited his mouth. The teen swallowed harshly seeing the grim faces his answer caused, and he bit his lip, eyes widening slightly as something floated to mind.

“Vibranium works,” he said softly with wide eyes. The scientists immediately looked at him, causing him to flush. “A-At least I’m pretty sure. In your new suit, Mr. Stark,” Peter turned to Tony at those words, “you added vibranium alloy into the nanoparticles. When we were fighting Thanos on Titan, you were able to block the energy from the power stone and it didn’t even leave a scratch on the suit.” Tony’s eyes widened at this.

“I’d love to ask more about the nanoparticle thing, but I’d like to know where I got my hands on some vibranium. I thought we ran out,” the billionaire said, and Peter laughed a little.

“From Wakanda, duh.” His eyes darted around at the blank stares he got in response to the statement, and he bit his lip uncomfortably as regret began to crawl up his back. “Shit, they didn’t open their borders yet, did they?” He muttered, the blood slowly draining from his face.

“Language,” Tony muttered softly, and Hope cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“What do you mean?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Um, well, in reality, Wakanda isn’t a poor country at all,” Peter began to explain, words coming out slow as he tried to find an apt way to drop the information. “They’re actually a hidden sort of utopia--they have a forcefield shield thing around their country that creates the illusion of a forest to keep themselves hidden. Inside, they have access to large vanes of vibranium, and they process so much of the stuff that they have it woven into their clothes. Their tech is way more advanced than ours because of it, but we do catch up eventually.” Silence followed his words as they each stared at him with varying levels of surprise. It stayed like that for a few moments as they each replayed his words in their minds to process it, and the teen shifted uncomfortably on his feet from the lack of a response.

“Well damn,” Tony muttered with raised eyebrows, breaking the stunned silence.

“How long until they open their borders?” Hope asked, voice soft as she spoke. Peter furrowed his eyebrows in thought as he began to think back to when Wakanda first became a large deal in the news.

“Late 2016 probably,” he said after a moment. “So about a year.”

“We can’t afford to wait that long,” Hank said, gnawing at his lip in worry as he looked down at the ground. “We need at least a small supply to start so we can begin making prototypes.”

“Don’t worry about that,” a voice said towards the doorway, and the four immediately snapped their heads up towards the source of the voice, redirecting their attention. “I can get that handled.” Fury was standing in the somehow opened doorway of the lab, and although Peter wanted to question how he got in so silently, he figured it would be futile considering how elusive he was.

“...just how long have you been standing there?” Tony asked, pointing to the man with feigned shock, his eyes reflecting no real surprise at his presence. Fury’s lip twitched upwards at this.

“Long enough,” the director said simply. “I’ll send a notice once we get into contact with Wakanda. Until then, don’t stress about it.” And, as quickly as he entered, the man stepped out of the doorway, metal doors closing behind and leaving the three in silence once more. Peter blinked dumbly at he continued to stare at the doors.

“Is he usually like that?” Hank asked after a moment, to which Tony sighed.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about vibranium anymore,” Peter said with a soft smile, the atmosphere in the workshop lifting a little at his words. Hope reflected his smile, laughing a little, causing Hank to smile as well, and Tony exhaled softly, pushing himself off of the counter.

“Alright,” the billionaire started, looking over the group with an air of authority as he addressed them. “Let’s start drawing up some blueprints, shall we?”