Chapter 1
Peter had run away after the shooting, as much as he hated it. His aunt had told him to run – had told him to get away while the gunman was occupied with her.
But now he was lost, and the men standing in front of him were scary, speaking in another language as they dragged him towards their car, his hands held behind him with a zip-tie. He was crying, and he was trying to get them to tell him something, anything, but the men just shoved him harder towards the car, one of them calling to him with an accented “Shut up.”
There was a bang as he was pushed again, and the man in front of him fell to the ground, bleeding. The second shooting he had seen in his life and in that night.
The man in front of him had short hair and a lopsided grin. “Well, well, well. Would you look at that? I was told there were shitsticks in the city dealing in children.” Another shot and Peter heard someone behind him fall over. “But you know what, I have some friends that are more than willing to talk some sense into you.”
Two more, and the others fell over. Peter didn’t want to look.
The man knelt down in front of him. “Wade Wilson. What’s your name, little man?”
Peter shook his head. “Aunt May said not to talk to strangers.”
“Your Aunt May sounds really, really smart. But I’m not trying to hurt you like those guys were, and I just want your name.”
Peter shifted, mumbling.
“What was that?”
“Why?”
“If I knew your name, I could get you back to your Aunt May a lot faster.”
That was appealing…
“Peter. My name is Peter.”
“Alright, Peter. Where do you live?”
That was information he had been told to never, under any circumstances, give to someone he didn’t know. “No. I can’t tell you that.”
Wade scratched his temple with the pistol. “Alright, then. You’re coming with me until I can get you somewhere safe.”
“What? No!” Peter scowled. “I wanna go home!”
“Well if you won’t tell me where home is, I can’t help you.”
“Then take me to the police! They’ll take me home!”
“Kid, if there’s one thing I can’t do, it’s that.” Wade smirked. “But I can take care of you myself. Probably.”
Peter liked to please people, but he was also stubborn. That was the start of it, though. The start of a new life, even if he liked his old one.
May Parker was stricken with fear and guilt. She had lost her husband and her nephew in one night, and she didn’t know where to look.
“Ma’am, where would he have gone?” The police officer in front of her passed her water. She set it on the desk in front of her. She wasn't the priority - Peter was.
“I don’t know. We weren’t near our house, and I just told him to run. I didn’t want him getting hurt.”
She knew she should be panicked, harried, but everything felt distanced from her. There was nothing that could really reach her, not emotionally, anyway. “Ma’am, would he tell someone where to take him?”
May shook her head. “Ben worried that could cause problems. He read it somewhere. He always told Peter to ask to be taken to the police.”
“Then we’ll have to hope he remembers that part.”
May finally felt it hit her, and all she could do was weep. Her nephew was missing, and she was losing time to find him. Who knew if she ever would?
She was alone, and all she wanted was to be able to hold Peter in her arms, to protect him from the world and the hurt.
Wade was very careful with Peter. The first two weeks, Peter was crying a lot and asking for his aunt, and Wade did his best to find her, but without a name (or last name, for that matter), it was a bit difficult. A lot of kids went missing in New York, and the worse the neighborhood the less it was reported on, if it got reported at all. Asking around would just raise suspicion, and that was the last thing he needed. The other St Mary’s mercs wouldn’t give him trouble, but others in the underbelly he lived his life in weren’t in the habit of being so generous.
After a while, Peter adjusted. He calmed down a lot after meeting Weasel, who started teaching him how to make drinks.
“You know the kid’s like, seven, right?”
Weasel shrugged. “He’s your kid now. I figured he might as well get a useful skill.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean that he’s going to be on his own a lot. At least if he starts manning the bar here young he can get some protection.”
It made sense. Peter was a cute kid, and if he was mixing the drinks for the others at St Mary’s they would be more inclined to defend him if something went wrong or if Wade went AWOL on an assignment for a few days.
That reminded him. “Hey, Weasel, you’re his godfather now.” A mock knighting gesture. "You get to watch him while I’m on a hit in a couple days.”
“What?”
“I can’t leave him alone yet, are you nuts?”
“Are you nuts for taking in a kid?” Weasel sighed. “Fine. I’ll take the kid – this time. You hear me, Wade? I’m not taking him every time!”
Wade smirked, ordering himself a cocktail. “Sure. I’ll just figure out who else I know that I can trust with my kid.”
Weasel’s scowl was betrayed by his smile as he looked at the kid that was making the drink with no prompting, seeming to have fun. "Hey, Mr. Weasel! This sounds like that thing my science teacher told us about - chemistry?
“Hey, Mr. Wade,” Peter looked at him seriously from where he stood on a bench that helped him reach the counter, “If I’m your kid now, does that make you my dad?”
Wade hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t wanted to, given the shit that was in his family history. But he was going to do his best for this kid – he wouldn’t repeat his parents’ mistakes. “Yeah, kid, it does.”
“But what if you find my Aunt M- my aunt?”
“I can still be your dad if you want, kiddo, but I would never stop you going back to your aunt if that’s what you wanted.”
“Can I call you dad, then?”
The kid wasn’t exactly smiling, but he wasn’t fearful like he had been. “Yeah, kid. Call me whatever you want.”
Tony Stark looked at the profile in front of him.
May Parker, wife of Benjamin Parker
The widow of a Stark Industries employee, and her kid was listed as missing. A casualty of existence, but it didn’t sit right with Tony. He glanced at his friend, back on leave and spending it with Tony instead of his family.
Tony sighed. “Hey, Rhodey, talk me out of something.”
“What?”
“I want to help this lady find her kid if I can.”
“Why should I talk you out of that?”
“Because it’s the last thing I should be doing, if you ask literally anyone else in my life.”
Rhodey wasn’t like everyone else in his life – he wasn’t like Obi or like his father had been – so he shrugged. “Sounds like a good plan to find the kid, man. You have more resources. I say go for it.”
Tony typed up an email, shooting it off to May offering his services and resources to find her nephew. Hopefully something would come of it.