Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter was a little early to his class. Lunch had just been and he knew he needed to get out of there before Flash and his cronies would find him. One of the safest places to be was Mr. Harrington’s class and Peter knew the teacher would be there early eating his lunch. Peter barged into the classroom and sure enough there his homeroom teacher was situated, eating a salad and seemingly unphased at the young teen barging in.

“Hey Mr. Harrington?” Peter asks, before stepping forward. “Could I just talk to you for a sec?”

Mr. Harrington mumbled an affirmative around his food, and nodded his head to try and convey that Peter can come in. He motions for the student to close the door behind him and to sit down. As he swallows his bite of the salad he gives Peter a real smile and a greeting.

“What’s up, kid? What do you want to talk about?”

Peter sighed, shoulders hunched and suddenly the nerves started to creep up. At first it seemed like a good plan, Mr. Harrington told him he could always come to him if there was anything after his uncle died, but it didn’t help that he sucked at opening up to people.

“Nothing much, sir. I just- the whole thing is-” Peter took a deep breath while fiddling with his hands. “After everything happened, eating lunch in the lunch hall is… a lot. The noise, the lights – and it makes it difficult for me to eat and in turn it makes me dizzy so I guess I wanted to ask if there was any exception I would be able to get to eat my lunch elsewhere?” 

It was a half lie, it was mostly his Spidey senses that set him off, an added benefit would be being able to evade Flash’ taunts and jests. He would miss eating lunch with Ned, but his best friend encouraged him to seek a solution first. To just talk to Mr. Harrington for once. Peter only listened after MJ threatened him to just ask for the aid that he needed or she would do it, and that Ned would not be alone with her around. MJ didn’t know of his Spidey senses, but he guesses the overstimulation is linked enough to neurodivergency that she suspects he’s on the spectrum somewhere. She isn’t completely off either.

Peter’s head is tilted, and he hunches in on himself even further as he expects rejection. The opposite happens however as a hand lands on his and he looks up to his teacher. Mr. Harrington is smiling at him, softly, and gives him another encouraging nod as he finishes chewing on the food still in his mouth.

“Peter, it’s completely fine for you to feel that way. I’ll make it so you can eat lunch with me in this classroom for at least the next two or so weeks. Ned and MJ are also free to join you if they want to. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Peter swallowed. He had another thing to talk about, actually, but he had no idea how to bring it up. Instead he felt his emotions betray him and from the sheer relief of having his homeroom teacher actually listen to him and adjust something based on his needs. School had never felt safe, and it had gotten so much worse after he had been bitten by that radioactive spider. Then uncle Ben died, and then he got roped into going to Germany with Mr. Stark and his life had taken such a huge turn it was difficult to navigate it through the grief. May had to work twice as hard as well to make sure he could eat, and his larger appetite just made him feel guilty. His aunt had been nothing but supportive and accepting. A bit hesitant when she found out about the whole Spider-Man thing, but she tried to listen to him and they worked out a compromise.

As the first tear fell, Mr. Harrington dropped his fork to try and see what had happened, which emotion came with the tears and the hiccups. Peter instead just looked up and then quietly asked for a hug. His teacher gathered him into his arms in an instant and kept the pressure tight. Nothing had been tight enough to satisfy Peter since he gained his abilities, but this was the best he could get and he would savour it.

As Peter calmed down the warning bell rang that lunch would be over in five minutes and Peter scrambled to get himself ready and seemingly busy reading a book before the other students would come streaming in. Ned and MJ were the first. Ned sitting down beside him and MJ behind them. Ned just gave Peter a small smile and Peter in turn gave a thumbs up, whispering he would text Ned and MJ what had transpired later.

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

The next day he comes into school, Peter smiles at Mr. Harrington during homeroom, and is then off to his advanced physics class. He has the class with Ned, and regrettably Flash, but with their current seating plan that should not pose an issue.

Wishful thinking. 

For an experiment they were shuffled around and Flash was positioned on the long table behind Peter. He did his best to try and shove Peter as much as he could, and he kept up his taunts. Peter really had to hold back from not letting out a snarky remark, aware that the consequent beating after school would not be worth the small victory in the end. Peter was trying to focus back on the task at hand as well as on helping his lab partner out. It was one of the girls he could barely remember the names of. She belonged to one of the friend groups that stayed mostly to themselves and on the outskirts of the school’s social bubble. Peter only knew she was part of the group that always hung around the theatre department, and that MJ had talked about her once or twice as she was a part of the tech squad. 

The lesson went by almost like any other lesson where Flash would be close to him, until the very end when the bell rang and Peter hung up his lab coat, glasses and gathered his bag. The second he is out the door to head towards history he gets pushed over, and his books fly through the hallway.

“Watch where you’re walking, Penis.”

Flash spit close to where his hands were and Peter could feel his Spidey sense fly up for the second time in two minutes as a kick to his thigh is slightly too well placed. 

That was going to bruise.

Chapter Text

He grabs the first aid kid, finds the ointment Bruce had handed him to calm the way his bruising changes with his enhanced healing and as he takes a good look in the mirror he can see that his split lip had already faded. 

And he had yet to go out on patrol. 

As he goes through the motions of cleaning his wound, and eyes the nasty bruise splayed over the side of his stomach he takes a deep sigh. It hurts, but he breathes through it as he presses on it to try and see how much damage he had sustained, and if it was any worse than what it looked like superficially. 

It didn’t seem like it was, which was good. Yet he still worried a little bit as this was a step up from what Flash had pulled before and getting dragged and cornered to the small bike shed surely could not spell anything good for the future. He had to deal with it. Rather him and his quick healing than anyone else. Rather him than Ned. 

He could hypothetically beat Flash into the next semester, but it wouldn’t solve anything. The bully would just put his aim on someone else. Spider-Man (and therefore Peter) also did not approve of using such extreme violence without a proper cause and if this kept Flash placated and only focused on him, he would take it. He could take it. 

Sticking up for the little guy, because who else would? None of the teachers in that shithole of a school.

May couldn’t know either, he’s there on a scholarship and this is the easiest way for them to make do. He can’t be an even bigger nuisance to her, he is bothering her enough having to make her deal with her adopted nephew always getting into trouble to the point of being bitten by a spider and gaining superpowers. Only you, Peter, only fucking you.

He also had yet to talk to Mr. Harrington about the internship papers and if they had been received correctly. He had felt nervous bringing it up, but Mr. Stark had asked him to double check that everything had been in order to make sure he would receive his extra credits and his absence of leave.

One step at a time, Peter. He had to find food and eat first, maybe he could stop by Delmar’s on the corner as Spider-Man. He often felt bad about it, but he knew he could get a free sandwich and it helped his aunt out immensely when it came to feeding him and the money she earned - even with the amount of overtime she has been putting in recently. Somewhere Peter had a feeling it was because May had heard Mr. Stark’s offer to help out and it fuelled her to work harder. She never liked taking offers from others, let alone large sums of money. She struggled to take the five dollars from Peter when he had run a small side job as a paperboy. Even though she had needed the physical cash to be able to pay for the laundromat around the corner, as the machines in their building had broken down once again.

Eating on patrol it was. He knew he would get free food from people.

It would help his aunt in the end.

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

Patrol had been boring, and for once he was in bed at 2, just in time to avoid one of the largest downpours the city had seen in ages. It was grimy and disgusting out and between all of the apartment complexes in Queens it seemed that life had come to a stand still. The rain the only moving thing as some poor buggers were still out tightening their coats around them. Peter had helped a stray cat get to a shelter, brought a blanket to a homeless guy under a bridge, alongside a sandwich, before he shivered himself and cursed his poor regulation. Peter decided it would be best for him to head back. With so few people out on the street, no signal from the police of anything really happening and his spidey-sense staying ridiculously calm he almost wondered if it was just the quiet before the inevitable storm. 

New York City and quiet did not go well together. Not through a torrential downpour, not through a hypothetical tornado. If there was one thing this city did it was keep going, keep spinning and always being busy. There was always someone, somewhere who had some evil up their sleeve and unless they had all been put under a spell it should not be this quiet out. 

Peter just sighed in resignation as he crawled back in through his bedroom window, took off his suit and jumped in the shower for a second to try and heat up his fried nerves. His hands and toes were tingling when they touched the warm water, but Peter just sighed in relief at feeling the sensations run back into his limbs. He knew May wasn’t the biggest fan of his - albeit short - night showers, but also preferred her nephew to be warm and safe back in his bed. 

She was actually the one that forced him to do so the first time she had caught him sitting shivering on the couch, pressed up close against the little electric heater they had around for the especially cold winter months. And then consequently bought the largest, fluffiest blanket she could find in the second hand shop.

The fuzzing over him felt nice as much as it stung. He hated the fact that him being Spider-man brought this extra burden on his aunt. It had been why he had avoided telling her in the first place. The less people knew he was the vigilante, the less they could hurt him or the people he loved. He realised she had to know after she had gotten beyond worried three times, knowing he had been sneaking out and coming home late. That she had seen the bandages missing from the first aid kid. Peter had broken down and refused to tell her. When she asked him if it was anything related to crime, self-harm or the death of his uncle, Peter could only sniffle louder. He denied all three of those, said that he knew he was worrying her but didn’t know how to tell her what had actually been going on.

Three nights later, and a stab wound to his leg, was the final straw.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the messy memory that came with that evening. It had been a stupid mistake. He had been reckless and had let emotion take over his fighting.

Once he crawls into bed he can hear his aunt shuffle around in her room. Just as he is closing his eyes and is close to drifting off he feels the light through his eyelids come in as his door opens softly.

“Goodnight, Pete.” She says, as she presses a short kiss to his forehead. 

Peter just mumbled a thank you, you too, before truly closing his eyes and drifting off into a fitful sleep. The sound of a gun, a scream, and his own crying swirling through his head. It sounded like he was underwater and drowning.

He woke up, sat up right, and took the painkiller (that would barely work with his metabolism anyway, but a placebo was a placebo) and the water May had placed beside his bed for him before falling back asleep. This time dreamless, but not any less restless. The last two hours before he had to get up for school were spent tossing and turning and while he was asleep, when he woke up it felt like he had only blinked.

Peter wakes up, and feels like a corpse. Even if it has been the most sleep he had gotten in a while. He still felt cold from last night, and none of the extra blankets had helped him out. He slips on a large knitted sweater over a white t-shirt with a shitty pun, some clean underwear and a pair of jeans. Sniffing to see if they could still pass. He rushes through the kitchen as he throws a banana and a muesli bar in his schoolbag, before rushing back into his room and stuffing his spiderman suit and webshooters into it. He hops to the front door, putting on his second sock as he stumbles into the wall before he gets to his ratty sneakers and puts them on, not lacing them until he is out the door and down the building to jump - or more or less trip - into the car Happy is seated in, ready to take him to school.

“Couldn’t wake up 5 minutes earlier?” Happy grumbles as he starts driving, Peter frantically putting on his seatbelt.

Happy and New York morning traffic were not friends.

As they make a sudden stop, Peter groans and Happy gives him a look.

“Rough night?” Happy only asks, and Peter knows that is more on the demand of Mr. Stark than anyone else.

Mr. Stark always had a lecture for him ready, telling him how he could do better, not be as stupid.

“Nope, just the seatbelt cutting into the belt of my jeans from the sudden braking. No worries, Happy.”

Peter smiles through the rearview mirror and Happy seems satisfied as he focusses back on the traffic. It was only a half-lie anyway. The belt had cut close to the belt keeping his pants up, but it had rather cut into the bruise Peter had there from Flash’ kick. It should be close to healing, but bruises in their last stage usually are closest to the surface. Peter doesn’t even want to know the colour of his own side at the moment, he had barely looked at himself yesterday night in the shower.

Happy decides that’s enough conversation as he rolls the screen in the middle back up and Peter relaxes. He takes out his phone and earphones and sends a text to Ned he’s on his way and will be on time today. Ned texts him back that he’d better, as he did not want to sit in his first class with Mrs. Addinger on his own. She was known to be grumpy, but everyone knew how much she hated Wednesday mornings in particular. And that is the time their class fell exactly.

Peter is so early he actually manages to catch the 15 minutes of homeroom, which works in his favour because no matter how nervous he was he knew he really had to talk to Mr. Harrington today about the confirmation of the internship papers. It was a Wednesday so Peter would head to Stark Industries to tinker in the lab with Tony after school was done, and he’d know Tony would ask.

Peter greets Ned, dumps his bag by his chair and walks up to Mr. Harrington. He takes a deep breath in as his teacher looks up at him through his reading glasses. 

“Mr. Harrington?” Peter asks, and his voice is a little more unstable than he would have liked it to be.

“Yes, Mr. Parker? Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“I know I am already eating lunch in your classroom from today onwards, but I was wondering if you’d have a second to talk to me?”

Mr. Harrington only let out a small laugh, before looking up at Peter from his paperwork again and giving him a reassuring smile. 

“Of course that’d be alright. Is it too long to do it now?” Peter just nodded. “Very well, I will speak to you during lunch. Feel free to bring Ned and MJ along. If you wish.”

At that Peter rushed back to his chair beside Ned.

“Dude, what were you so nervous for?” 

Peter got a poke to his side and flinched. He shushed Ned before he could make a stampede about it.

“Internship stuff. I need to directly ask one of the school staff if the internship papers were properly documented and accepted and all before going to see Mr. Stark again tonight. Oh- also you’re welcome to join me as well as MJ to lunch in this classroom.” 

Ned just gave him a smile, before he started rambling about how cool the internship and Mr. Stark was before going off topic to ramble about the different Avengers and superheroes and this new comic he had bought from a new run of Superman with apparently one of the best artists DC has had in ages. Peter just listened as he took some small notes in his notebook. Mostly ideas on improvements on his suit written in a script he had developed to keep this stuff secret. He then drew out some equations and ideas to improve his web fluid to the side, but the 10 minutes that were left over in homeroom had been barely enough for him to even get the first part of a new equation down.

Next up was English with Mrs. Addinger. One sure to be as boring as it possibly could be.

At least MJ would be there, likely stuck reading a book that was such a classic even Mrs. Addinger couldn’t say anything as it was technically part of the curriculum. 

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

In the end the English class wasn’t that bad. They were speaking about science fiction novels and the rise of them as a genre following H.G. Well’s The Time Machine and eventually War of the Worlds gained popularity. It had gotten MJ’s attention as there was no prior mention of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein and how important that book written by a woman had been. Peter had agreed, the discussions he had had with the two had been interesting. MJ wasn’t the biggest sci-fi nerd but enjoyed the occasional story if the world building was good enough. At least the genre seemed to be mostly negative and dystopian and therefore right up her alley. Mrs. Addinger had been speechless for a second before actually going off into a small ramble about Frankenstein and it being difficult to note the first instance of Science Fiction as it was a genre that mostly changes with its time and is sometimes difficult to set apart from a more fantastical or horror sense of fiction.

All in all, Ned and Peter eventually got to ramble about Star Trek and Star Wars in class and it was one of the best hours of the entire day.

As the lunch hour drew near, Peter’s nerves were positively on fire. He kept bouncing his leg, having Ned tell him to stop. He was doodling stupid things in his notebook, even drawing a part of the arm for the new Iron Man suit upgrade he and Tony were working on before erasing it with a blush knowing that was confidential and a straight up stupid thing to do with his luck. Flash was also in this class and was seated just close enough to be an asshole and it didn’t help that the teacher had to rush out for a second to handle a small emergency.

A kick to his shin underneath the table, a jaunt at his dead parents and his dead uncle.

Peter sighed and hunched in on himself, begging for the time to just go faster. He was bored out of his mind today, and while he had gotten more sleep than usual the nightmare had shaken him. Flash actively taunting about his uncle hurt, and he could almost feel a migraine swimming behind his eyes as the teacher reentered the room. Ned just nudged the bottle of water on his desk, urging him to drink from it and Peter did.

Throughout the last half of the lesson Peter really had to try and not drift too far away. His senses were overwhelmed, having Flash so close and trying things all the time had set his nerves on fire, the spidey-sense going haywire for a hit that would barely come or only graze his ankle as he tried to inconspicuously move his legs. His whole skin felt like it was on fire, the knitted sweater too constricting, the jeans too rough and the cold draft across the floor making his feet feel cold in his old shoes, while the radiator made the room feel way too sweaty at the same time. The voice of the teacher kept droning on, while Flash and one of his friends kept whispering to him. There was a student talking at the back of the class, a phone going off in the hallway somewhere, a pen on paper, a bookpage turned-

The bell rang.

And Peter sprinted out of there on his way to Mr. Harrington’s classroom. He hadn’t realised he was shaking and hyperventilating at this point and could not register all of the looks he got as he moved through the corridors with his head to the ground, avoiding the bright LED lights. He had to take two deep breaths to try and keep himself upright as the last of the students from the last hour filed out of the classroom but the second he saw it was empty he walked in. 

Peter drops his bag, pulls out a chair, sits down and pushes his head between his legs.

It wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but it was one of the only ones he could think about right now. 

Mr. Harrington was on high alert from the second Peter had barged in, and could feel the panic rise in himself before he saw MJ and Ned standing in the doorway, both looking out of breath and ready to rush to help if it’s needed.

It takes all three of them in the end to calm Peter down enough for him to eat his banana, and Peter is also handed a second lunch box from Ned that his grandmother prepared for him, which is scoured down in no time.

“Sorry.” Peter starts, but he receives a nasty look from all three of the people. “Was just overwhelmed.”

“That’s why we made this arrangement, Peter. I am happy I can provide a safer space for you during lunch. I can not imagine this must have been nice.”

Peter just gives Mr. Harrington a lopsided smile, before he puts away the lunchbox and wipes his hands on his jeans, knowing he has to talk to his teacher about this now or it won’t happen.

“Now that I am here anyway, Mr. Harrington, I had something I needed to ask you.” Peter trails off as he looks at his teacher, who silently urges him to continue. “Did you receive the paperwork for my internship?”

And - oh. 

Mr. Harrington gulps, takes a sip of his water that he almost chokes on, and then zeroes back in on Peter.

“The one at…?” His teacher seems almost afraid to say it out loud.

“Stark Industries. Yeah, that one.” Peter can feel himself lose confidence. Of course no one would take this seriously. “The one I started about a month or so ago, but only became official on paper two weeks ago.”

“As far as I’m aware it has been archived properly, alongside the first progress report.” Mr. Harrington suddenly declares, sounding a lot more stern than he did beforehand. “It has been handled by the front office and the dean with care, but I’m afraid we must urge you to refrain from talking about it in a frivolous manner as this is sensitive as a topic for other students.”

At that Peter - and Ned and MJ on his behalf - look at their homeroom teacher wearily, and a little offended. It’s MJ that speaks up first.

“Sensitive how?”

Mr. Harrington gulps, then looks at Peter.

“I need you to know that I trust you not to lie, and think you are smart enough to not think of something like this to garner attention, but some of my colleagues…”

“Spit it out, Mr. Harrington.” MJ supplies, face already set to danger.

“...Some of my colleagues are of different beliefs. I urge you to be careful who you discuss this with, if only to protect yourself.” Mr. Harrington looks down, twiddles his thumbs. “I’m sorry Peter, I tried my best and the signature looks genuine. They’re just not convinced you’d be a good fit for Stark Industries, let alone at this age. They also believe there would be better candidates in this school if high schoolers were even allowed as interns in the first place.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” MJ declares. “Haven’t they seen Tony fucking Stark’s signature underneath the papers? Most intern papers aren’t even signed by the man.”

“Which makes another argument for why the papers would be fraudulent in nature and Peter is lying. I don’t think he is, Ms. Jones and I urge you to sit down for a second. I had been meaning to talk to Peter about this at a later notice, but had not yet found a time.”

The silence that spreads across the room is heavy, and Peter feels like he is on the brink of passing out from hearing this for the first time. He knew there would be people that didn’t believe him, but for this to be the case seems outrageous. He knew some teachers didn’t like him but to outright accuse him of lying and even forging papers went above what was normal for a bunch of high school teachers. He clenched his fist in an attempt to stop the anger from boiling over right then and there.

“Peter, I am so sorry. I think some of the teachers think it must be because of the recent death of your uncle that you are looking for odd ways to cope. I have already kept them off your back from sending you to the school counselor as your head teacher, but I am unsure if I can for much longer. I need you to be careful about this, but I also need you to know how proud I am of you. For landing that internship, and by the looks of it the attention of the Tony Stark himself. You have not the cleanest track record when it comes to attendance, and I am sure there is a reason, but I can only do so much between the guidelines and the rules.”

Peter really has to try his best to calm his anger, and while he does so he first looks at MJ, then at Ned to see if he can get any confirmation on what he may find on Mr. Harrington's face. When it is nothing but a soft, supportive look, he sighs out a breath of relief. The man looks helpless, and Peter guesses he had always been a tad pathetic, making it easy for other students to get away with picking on him, but the man had a good heart. And he was apparently willing to fight for his students.

“I just need to know-” Peter started. “-if the files have been correctly filed and put away in my student archive in the principal's office. If that is the case, I am happy.”

At that Mr. Harrington starts smiling bigly, and slaps an awkward hand on the teen’s shoulder.

“That it is, Mr. Parker. That it most certainly is.”

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

The second they were out the door, said goodbye to MJ and were headed to their robotics elective class, Peter turned to Ned and shook him by the shoulders. 

“I can't tell Mr. Stark, Ned.” Peter panicked. “I can't. I can't be a bigger burden, what if I tell him that the school is hesitant and he sees it too? I can't lose this, man-”

“Relax. Mr. Harrington said it had been filed correctly. So what if the other teachers think it's fake. You and I both know it isn't and that it is not just because of the-” Ned made the hand-motion to use a webshooter and Peter grabbed the hand with both of his and pushed it down, looking panicked.

“Alright. But Mr. Stark still can’t know people don’t believe me. I do not know what he will do, but I already know I will not like it.” Peter sighed, pinched his nose and then dragged Ned along. “C’mon, man, we gotta go or we will be late, again.”

“This triple life will kill you one day, Peter.”

“I know, Ned. I know. Now c’mon.”

They made it seconds before the bell rang.

Chapter Text

As Peter hobbles into Mr. Stark’s lab that afternoon, the man already has a knowing look on his face. One that Peter did not like to see. Because it usually meant another lecture. Because he could be better, he could always do better. And he had to, if he wanted to keep his place here.

“Hey kid, how was school?”

“Fine, Mr. Stark! I asked about the internship papers like you asked for and they have been filed properly.”

Tony pulled the kid close and ruffled his hair. Sadly this also means that the bruise on Peter’s side got a poke and he had trouble trying to hide his wince. He thought he had succeeded when Mr. Stark walked to the other side of the workstation and started playing around with holograms again, mumbling for Peter to start on or pick up any of the projects they had been working on. The earlier look must have also been a false alarm, just Peter seeing things that weren’t there, as there was no lecture coming his way.

And they spent the next two hours tinkering away, locked in their own bubble.

It was only when Friday announced Steve knocking on the door, that both of them got taken out of their trance. 

“Hey? Oh- hi Pete! I should have known you were here because the music was not at a volume that would break our sensitive hearing.”

“Hi Mr. Rogers. How have you been?”

Tony chuckled in the back at Peter still acting this shy around the man. It had been a while since they had returned and everything got sorted, and yet still. Still, Peter was this awkward around the other Avengers. It was as adorable as it was frustrating, because Tony sometimes had the idea that the kid did not nearly realise half as much as how this had become his family. Tony wished he would drop the barrier of the formalities, and allowed the physical affection he was offered. Tony knew Steve had been holding back, and he thought he never had seen Nat trying to hold herself back from hugging someone. Not like she did with Peter.

“I’ve been well. I came in here to make sure your mentor wasn’t running on too few hours of sleep and pure caffeine again today. You know how he gets. Fri?” Steve asked, directing his gaze towards the ceiling, as if she would be there. “How long has it been since Tony had a break?”

“He has actually kept himself to a schedule this time. He only entered the lab thirty minutes before Peter arrived.”

Steve just smiled broadly, hands on his hips like a proud mother. He walked up to Tony and clasped a hand on his shoulder before turning to Peter and doing the same. 

“If you ever need a break from the old man, you know where to find me.” 

The same smile was still on his face, but Tony just scoffed. 

“Old man? Look who’s talking, Spangles. I think only one of us is over a 100.”

The banter never failed to baffle Peter – and seeing as he had seen Mr. Stark in the aftermath of their fall out – it was even more special to see it slowly get back to just this. Whatever this was, it was almost… domestic?

“Anyway, Pete, you know where to find me!” And with that he disappeared. 

Peter focussed back on the notes scribbled out in front of him. At times it was just nicer to write it out on actual paper with pen, then only use the digital screens or the holograms. He also felt like he was challenging himself more by doing it this way, and only resorted to asking help from the simulations if he was truly unsure. In that regard he was just like Tony. Motor oil and grease stains perpetually present when he was in the lab, and the smell lingered even when he had washed up and was dressed up in a suit. Mr. Stark liked to work with his materials physically, he liked to create as much — if not more — than he liked to invent. 

Peter was too focussed to realise Tony had stopped working on whatever he was doing and was looking at him. Staring would actually be a better descriptor. When he did clear his throat Peter almost jumped and clung to the ceiling. 

“Now care to explain why you winced when I hugged you?”

Peter shrunk in on himself. He stumbled a little over his words before an answer rolled off his tongue.

“Fell while on patrol. It was a stupid miscalculation and I was low on web fluids and the new system to show me that I am low did not flash like it was supposed to.” He couldn’t look at Tony as he explained this. “It was just a stupid mugger who got to me because I couldn’t web him stuck quickly enough. It should be fine with my accelerated healing.” Because it was an outright lie. 

“Do I have to double check with Karen?”

“No! No, Mr. Stark. That is not necessary. I promise it’s fine.”

“Alright. I won’t. But you will have to show me what it looks like right now.”

That made Peter flinch again, and in turn it hurt his side. He had gotten used to the nagging pain so he forgot how bad it was until he made a sudden movement. He was already glad Ned had barely noticed anything the whole day. Tony came closer, and Peter knew he had to listen to his mentor. There was no other way to go about this. It was that or Mr. Stark would figure out he was lying, and no matter how bad this looked at least he got away with it being from Spider-Man and not from being pathetically bullied in high school. That was none of Mr. Stark’s business. Peter had no right to worry him with such trivial high school matters.

“C’mon Pete, we gotta check this out and see how bad it is. Just to make sure it’s nothing, alright?” 

It didn’t seem like it was nothing, nor do I think you’re telling me the truth. Remained unsaid. Peter was too nervous to pick up on that anyway. 

Peter hesitantly walked up to Mr. Stark who was already seated on the couch. He carefully lifted his white sweater and undershirt and carefully watched the face of his mentor. When he saw his eyes widen a little and his mouth let out the smallest gasp he knew it was bad. He didn’t dare look at it himself. 

Two hands darted forwards, before hovering. Mr. Stark tilted his head to see if he could catch Peter’s gaze. 

“Pete, look at me?” A beat. “Please?” 

And Peter did, he saw the furrowed eyebrows on his mentor’s face, and the worry in his eyes. Something like nausea swirled through his stomach. He was being a larger burden than he should be, this is exactly why he did not want Mr. Stark to know about the bullying. That would just show the man how bad Peter was at defending himself. He should be able to stand up to a bully like Flash – and yet…

“Can I?” Mr. Stark asked and Peter nodded, the hands that were hovering now very hesitantly touching his side.

Mr. Stark closely inspected the bruised skin. It was in one of the later stages of healing already, and it had turned a sickly green. Yellow around some of the edges. It stood out against his pasty white skin. Especially with the stark contrast of the white sweater he had been wearing. 

“We should let medical take a look at this, just in case, kid.” 

One particular prod of a finger to a particular spot made Peter actually yelp out in pain and Tony immediately started to apologize. Letting the shirt and sweater fall back over his torso. 

“You have to tell me about stuff like this.” Tony said, head held low as he put his hands on his knees and stood up. Putting an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “I need to know, so I can help. Capiche?” 

Peter just nodded.

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

After a brief visit to medical, that deemed his intestines still intact and discovered no internal bleeding, Peter wasn’t allowed back into the labs. Instead Tony had led him to the common living area where Nat and Steve were seated conversing. None of the other Avengers were around. 

Tony watched from a distance as Peter took a seat on the couch. Keeping distance between himself and the other two. It ached in his heart that the kid had this much trouble allowing himself to have things. He had a running theory that the kid had been dealing with severe anxiety for a while now, and proof just kept adding itself on top of a pile of other incidents across the years. It took a while after Germany for Peter to truly start to adjust to the idea that Tony hadn’t been completely joking about an internship at Stark Industries. And another year for it to be adjusted to be a regular schedule. Now that Peter was sixteen Tony felt a lot more comfortable having him around, because there was not the constant crippling fear of how young the kid had been. He should have checked. When Steve and Bucky had returned to equal grounds with him they had made sure to tell him that, too, the second they had found out. 

It had almost broken their fragile friendship again. If Tony had to be honest. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he had genuinely started crying in front of the two super soldiers. He wasn’t entirely sure if Bucky had yet forgiven him for dragging a kid into his fight, much less the idea of signing away this kid's privacy with the original set up of the accords. But that was in the past, they had talked, things had started to get better. 

And since then Peter had barely started to get closer to any of them. Not even to Tony.

He understood these had been Peter’s idols for a long time and that that came with a certain dynamic. Yet it didn’t make it any less painful whenever he saw the kid hesitate to ask for what he wanted. Tony had been careful with it at first, and had said some things in his worry and anger at the world for that kid that had been worse than anything else he could have done.

It flared up again in his chest, seeing Peter hesitantly sit down with Steve and Nat — who both seamlessly included him in their conversation — twisting his hands in his lap. It was about a topic the kid was passionate about, which was obvious the second his eyes lit up. After he finished his rambling he seemed to trail off and become more hesitant, however. Even when Steve tried to be reassuring he seemed to crawl in on himself. At that point Tony was certain there was a lot more going on.

And if that was the case, it meant it was on top of all of the other shit the kid was already dealing with. More than what he was already aware of.

Tony felt sick.

He joined them when his cup of coffee had finished brewing, and sat close to Peter with an arm behind him, a soft smile on his face. Hoping he could get across that this wasn’t transactional. That Peter did not have to earn his place here. He had already had it from the start. 

Pepper had been right, Tony had a weak spot for the kid. 

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

That same evening – after Peter had gone home – it had been Steve that had gone to look for Tony.

“Something’s off about you today, Tones. What is it?”

Tony just grumbled while he continued to work on finding the right connectivity points on the motherboard he had been working on for the newest upgrade of his suit. A very minor software adjustment that should help the thrusters be even more precise and stable and thus easier to fly. 

“Is it about Peter?” 

And if anything was a marker of the simple fact everyone had a weak spot for Peter, it was the way Captain America talked about him. 

“Mhm.” Was the only thing coming out of his mouth. More like a growl than anything else. 

“C’mon Tony, let’s sit down and talk. I need to know. You don’t have to hold this all to yourself. You know damn well we all care.”

“Languague.” Tony quipped, easily. “And stop being all high and mighty, can’t you see I’m busy?”

Steve just sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You’ve been in here for most of the night. You barely had dinner – or any food for that matter – and after Peter left for home your shoulders immediately sunk in on themselves. You know I am not even the most observant out of all of us, just be glad Nat hasn’t yet come to find you.”

The threat of the Black Widow trying to corner Tony about his feelings was enough to kickstart him in trying to put everything back in its right place and to make sure he had the soldering iron properly turned off and put away in a manner it could cool without falling over and starting a fire. It wouldn’t be the first time he had mindlessly tried to do that, and he wasn’t proud to say Friday now had a protocol called He Definitely Started the Fire. 

Before Steve could start to physically force Tony to move, Friday announced that Pepper had arrived. 

“You had called for me, Steve?”

“Oh, I see how it is.” Tony started, but caved and walked over to Pepper to hug her and press a quick peck to her cheek.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Mr. Grumpypants over here needs to get out of his lab and tell us what’s going on with the little spider.” Steve easily ignored Tony’s comment and the public displays of affection. 

“You’ve evidently been around Nat too much if you started calling him little spider.”

“Stop trying to change the topic, dear. This seems important if Steve called me in to wrangle you out of the lab and didn’t just make use of Friday’s protocols.” Pepper said as she pushed Tony off of her. “Let’s move up to the penthouse, shall we? That seems like a more appropriate location.”

The three of them stepped into the lift, and only then it was that Tony noticed the hoodie Steve was wearing. It was one that Peter had gifted him, something his friend MJ had painted. The funniest thing was that it was still slightly large on him, but it pulled a little at his shoulders. It was nice to see, Tony couldn’t wait for Peter to see or realise Steve had been snuggled into the hoodie gifted to him a week ago. 

They reached the penthouse in no time, and Tony took a deep breath. In and out, in and out. 

Steve takes place on the couch, and though he doesn’t mean it in a condescending way, pets the place next to him for Tony to sit. 

He feels like a small child about to be berated by America’s icon. 

Pepper sits down in a large chair opposite of the coffee table. 

“What’s going on, Tony? When I visited the lab you seemed to be in deep thought and kept staring at the kid, and then after you randomly visited med bay with him he was not allowed back into the lab?” Steve started. 

Tony felt like curling in on himself, but started to speak. Voice careful.

“Something’s off about the kid. There’s something going on and he doesn’t trust me enough to talk to me about it. He had an injury, said it was from going on patrol but I find it hard to believe him. And good god do I feel bad that I am doubting him, but it wouldn’t be the first time. And I do the same. I know the patterns and the excuses- I spoke with the doctor who looked him over and the injury does not fit the event he said he got it from. He’s jumpy, uncertain and quite frankly ridiculously anxious.”

“I noticed it too.” Steve said, voice low. “When he was speaking to me and Nat he sat far away, he seemed to hesitate to speak and after he had spoken – with passion by the way – he just… he just tried to make himself as small as possible. As if he didn’t belong there, or had said something stupid.” A beat, and then: “He apologizes too much.”

“He does.” Tony adds. “He really does and it’s been two years of working with him and I can’t get him to just call me Tony. He barely allows me to give him a hug, even though I can see he wants to. Besides the grief over his uncle, his worry for his aunt and his friends Ned and MJ… there’s something going on and outside of this tower it can only be one thing.”

“School?” Pepper asks. “But the two times I spoke to the administration they seemed perfectly nice.”

“I don’t trust it.” 

Tony’s statement lingered for a second.

“Now that you mention it, something is off. Did you manage to get Peter to confirm his internship papers had been filed correctly?”

Tony nodded, and looked right at his partner.

“Yeah, he said they were.”

“I’ll do some research.”

The sudden voice cutting in from the lift broke all of them out of it. Natasha stood there, clad in black as usual, a zip-up hoodie loose on her shoulders. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised, come in Ms. Romanov.”

“Pepper, how many times do I have to tell you that just Nat is fine.” 

And with that she strode into the room and sat herself down next to Tony, hand on his knee. The look alone was enough, and Tony realised in that very second that no matter the rift the fight between them had caused, there was one thing they could all agree on; Peter Parker.

“We’ll figure it out, we can’t do much more than show him we’re here and that he is welcome.” Pepper decided to ignore Natasha’s comments for now and focus on her partner. “We’ll find a way.”

Chapter Text

Peter groans as he slams his head into his table. It was right after homeroom and it was a class he only had with MJ.

Who was seated all the way on the other side of the room. So there wasn’t much to do and he didn’t really care for any of the other people in this class. He missed Ned, especially after he got home last night and he had too much time for his anxiety to settle. He fell asleep around three in the morning, after a very brief round of patrol. He was too distracted, he knew it was too dangerous after the first small mishap in his swinging. Usually he’d be more reckless, if it wasn’t for the fact his overthinking was about the med bay visit and his banning from Tony’s lab for the rest of the day. 

He hated it. 

His thoughts often got the better of him, and Peter Parker was a separate entity from Spider-Man. Peter Parker couldn’t hide his face and joke his insecurities away. Peter Parker was a nobody in a high school where he had to dumb himself down not to stand out, Peter Parker was the bullied orphan, Peter Parker was there on a scholarship. 

Spider-Man was the friendly neighbourhood vigilante. Spider-Man was the witty enemy of the muggers. Spider-Man was the saver of cats, well equipped and a little reckless. Spider-Man had his Spidey senses to tell him when something would go wrong and he could act on them. Spider-Man was just as insecure and anxious as Peter Parker. Spider-Man, however, had a mask to hide behind. 

Peter Parker was just Peter Parker.
Peter Parker was also a Stark Industries intern at fourteen.
Peter Parker was a nervous wreck.
Peter Parker was also Spider-Man.

His wits and his smarts to the outside world could never save the chaos of what was going on inside. He wasn’t sure that even if his parents hadn’t died, his uncle hadn’t died – if he had never been bitten by that radioactive spider – he still wouldn’t have felt like shit. Chances are, he would be bullied just as bad. The autism, bisexuality and geek in him would not be removed from that equation. It seemed bullies could smell that before he even realised it himself.

No one knew. He had forbidden Ned from talking to aunt May about it. He had insofar managed to keep MJ away from meeting his aunt. He knew that his aunt would figure it out just from seeing his face with MJ around. He couldn’t deal with the mortifying ideal of his crush. He had barely acknowledged to himself he had it in the first place.

His life was a right mess at the moment, and he wasn’t sure if Mr. Stark still wanted him around. He was sure he had also annoyed Mr. Rogers and Ms. Romanov with his continuous rambling. The Black Widow had been trying to tell Steve about some recent memes, and he had joined a little too enthusiastically. 

He sometimes wished he could just shut up for a second.

The lesson droned on and he was lucky Flash was seated on the opposite side of the room as well. He had to try and not fall asleep. This was all too basic and too easy for him, to the point where two of the explanations of equations were even technically wrong as they were severely dumbed down to lay the basics for their next level of this class. It was something he had gone over with Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark about a year ago already.

By the time the bell rang he had almost fallen asleep, besides some of the small doodles he had made. It wasn’t a good indication of how the rest of his day would go, and it would be a while until he had to stay for Academic Decathlon practice after school as well.

As he looked at his sketchbook he had been doodling the Avengers like when he was smaller. It was reminiscent of when he had drawn Mr. Stark after he saved him at the expo. A thing he still hadn’t told the man, and he didn’t quite know why. Perhaps because Mr. Stark would likely not even remember him. God, he had been so small and so stupid. It was simply in his nature.

Before the doubts could take over again he had to rush out of the door and through to his next class. Luckily he had this one with Ned, and he could ask him all about how his programming elective went. At least that way the time seemed to rush by, in the few moments they had to work for themselves and the teacher wasn’t explaining something on the board.

The day wasn’t very eventful, and when lunch came around Peter found himself walking into Mr. Harrington’s classroom again. Flash hadn’t yet picked up on the fact that he wasn’t around during lunch and Peter was more than thankful for all of that. It gave him an easy way to slip away through the crowds without being seen, under the guise of just having to talk to his homeroom teacher. 

“Hey Mr. Harrington.”

“Hey Peter, good to see you here again. Sorry about yesterday.”

Peter didn’t really know what to tell his teacher, but he was happy for the admission at least. 

“I know it wasn’t a good way to go about it, but it felt wrong to keep it from you. If any of your teachers give you trouble for this, please know you can come to me and we can figure something out. I wish I had more power over the administration… but you and I both know how this is. If there is anything else you will come to me, right?”

Peter gulped, but nodded. He was luckily relieved from saying anything else by Ned and MJ walking in. He didn’t know if Mr. Harrington had seen anything, he must have surely heard Flash’ comments. Peter also knew that Mr. Harrington even there might have to turn a blind eye or it will cost him his own job. Flash’ parents had too much money, too much influence.

Well wasn’t it funny that Peter technically had Mr. Stark behind him. If only the school believed him.

He really wasn’t good enough for that internship, huh? Perhaps Flash was right. Had been right about him all along.

“Pete- earth to Peter.”

“Hey loser.”

Ned and MJ sounded at the same time, pulling him out of his spiralling thoughts. They stuck around for the rest of the day, however, and he was out of it during AcaDec practice as well. He only had himself and his own mind to blame.

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

“The kid’s getting bullied.”

It wasn’t a question. Steve was certain. Tony let his mug fall onto the ground. 

“How are you so sure?” Was the only thing he could ask, as he walked towards the broom like a zombie and started mindlessly swiping at the broken pieces on the ground, making the coffee spread out further across the floor. Luckily it was black, so it wasn’t too sticky.

“Thinking back on the behaviour- it is clear as day. He also has issues with an anxiety disorder – potentially severe – and it is leading him to… some rather unsavoury thoughts about himself.” Steve sighed. “It’s bad, Tones. I think it’s really bad.”

Tony didn’t even realise he had swiped the same spot about five times, until Steve’s hand  held the top of the broom still and met Tony’s eyes.

“It’s- unless he tells us it’s difficult to confront him. I’m scared he will run.” Tony manages to get out as his breathing picks up. 

Steve’s quick to kick in some breathing exercises, as if it had become routine. 

“Yeah. I think I understand that train of thought. It’s a method unlike you, Tones.”

Steve’s voice was soft, but Tony was thankful. It eased a part of his own anxieties that he was still mad at him, that it was still tense and a very fragile thing that could snap at any given moment. It seemed stronger now. Everything was so fragile to Tony, and his uncertainties were coming out more and more. He was afraid to turn into his father. 

“I care about this kid, alright?”

It seemed to be said with contempt. Steve knew Tony well enough to know that was not the true emotion behind it and merely a deflection. He sometimes wondered if any of them would be able to get their heads out of their asses and actually admit to one another that they loved each other. It was like a family to Steve, and especially now that he was back around he could see how amazing these people had been. He had been depressed when he first got out of the ice, and then the whole thing with Bucky happened, and then he had to flee from the American government.

When he returned, Tony had a kid at his side. A kid Steve immediately felt the pull to. He wanted to wrap him up in a thick blanket and stuff him with food and baked goods he made when he was stressed. He wanted to hug the kid to greet him, but seeing Peter shuffle back and forth nervously whenever Steve was around made him hesitate.

“I know you do, Tony. I think we all do.”

“We also don’t know how bad it is or what he has been telling himself all this time. As bad as it is to say, it is still speculation based on behaviour.”

“It is.” Steve replied. “But I’ve seen it before – I’ve been that before. When I was sick and weakly I felt horrible about myself especially in comparison to Buck. I was fighting bullies with asthma attacks. I was poor, my parents died when I was young, and I recognise this look in his eyes that scares me. It fucking scares me, Tony.” Steve sighed as he dropped himself into one of the chairs in the kitchen. Body stiff and tense. 

Tony gulped down a comment. His first instinct to quip back was not appropriate. Steve talking about his feelings like this was unheard of. He was all the image he presented to the world, even around direct friends. Even around Bucky there was still a certain air to him. To hear him speak like this – so open – made Tony pause. He set the broom aside and softly asked Friday to send one of the smaller vacuum bots over to solve the issue and sat down opposite of the good old Captain.

“You must mean it if you speak in this manner.”  Not a single out of pocket nickname, not now Tony. “So we’re going to do what we have always done; solve this.” Tony stood up. “I need to show the kid my feelings better. I think I have been too aloof.”

At that Steve let out a short, loud laugh, before slapping a hand in front of his mouth. His eyes were a little wide and in turn it made Tony laugh. All of this was so far out of character that he was sure if Natasha or Bruce would ask Friday for the footage to review, they would barely even believe it. With the proof right there.

They looked at one another, studying the other’s expression. Brown eyes with long lashes were staring into deep blue pools and the other way around. They both eventually smiled softly. A wordless agreement that they would reconvene and find a way, but also that it’d be best for the both of them to take some time apart. Slow steps. 

And perhaps a time where both would not be tired, worried and exhausted would suit them better.

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

After AcaDec practice Peter found Flash in the main entrance on his way out. He had already gotten the message from Happy that there would be a car ready to pick him up and bring him over to his aunt’s place and really was not waiting for this to happen now. He had gotten so close to just getting out. To just go home. And he had looked forward to being able to go out on patrol tonight. To no avail.

“Hey Penis!” Flash yelled from the side of the front door. 

Peter just held his head low as he tried to make his way out as quickly as possible. Ned had already left, claiming he had to be home as soon as possible and Peter had only stuck around talking to MJ for a short while as she was cleaning stuff up, but she had to speak briefly with Mr. Harrington about something related to some trip. Peter was alone.

“Oi, idiot. Don’t ignore me.” Flash came closer. “Or do you think you’re too important to talk to someone like me with that fake internship of yours?”

“Shut up, Flash. Let me go.”

Peter usually didn’t really speak up, but he was sick and tired of this and wanted to just go home and sleep for a bit before finishing his homework and going out. He craved the ability to swing through the streets of Queens. He wanted to see how the old lady he helped last week was doing, and had found a litter of kittens a couple of days ago he was trying to befriend so he could bring them to a shelter. He was sure there would be other trouble out on the streets and he wanted to see how a slight adjustment to his webshooters and fluid would work out. It was the wrong thing to say, sadly, as Flash gripped his wrist strong enough to bruise. 

He yanked Peter back and hit him once in the face before spitting and sneering some more. Some of the comments flew over his head, but the one about his parents still landed. It was immediately followed by a nasty sneer on his aunt not being able to take proper care of him and the threat of calling child protective services made Peter yank his head up. His cheek was red from the slap, and there was some snot running down his nose from the cold which had only made the hit hurt more. He just took it for now, knowing it was better to let it pass by. The more he retaliated the longer it would take and he knew there was already some poor Stark employee waiting at the gate with a car even Flash would be jealous of. 

No matter how much Peter begged both Happy and Tony to not show up with the most obnoxiously flashy cars, the worse it got. He couldn’t win that. 

When Flash had decided he had verbally abused him enough, he landed a last kick to the shin and called Peter weak before he sprinted off himself. Peter took a cap out of his bag and put it on, pulling it over his face and keeping his head down as he walked around the block to find a shiny black Audi waiting. In it – and that was a surprise – was Mr. Stark himself. No one else. The tinted window was rolled down and Tony briefly lowered his sun glasses to greet Peter who jumped in the back of the car. 

“How was school, kid?”

“Fine.”

“Aunt May called, she had to come in for a sick colleague and couldn’t do dinner tonight so I am taking you back to the lab with me and you can just chill out and at least have dinner before I’m letting you go.”

Peter sighed, but accepted his fate. Hoping that by the time they got through traffic and would drive into the underground parking lot of SI, the red on his cheek would have faded as well as the stinging sensation. He could have a lot, with his super strength and healing. But it didn’t mean the hits hurt any less, they just landed in a different way and his ability to ignore the pain was more or less what kept him upright if it was truly needed. He was stubborn. Which apparently is an amazing skill when it comes to trying to deal with pain.

“Alright, Mr. Stark.” 

He tried to sound optimistic and knew he was failing when he met Tony’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. 

Shit.

Chapter Text

Steve walked into Bucky’s room. 

Bucky was sitting on the bed with a dogeared copy of The Hobbit, mechanical pencil in his hand as he was making notes while reading, where that was still possible on the pages. It was a copy he had held since he had first broken out of the Winter Soldier trance. It was a way out. Escapism at its finest, when the thoughts and the voices and the memories got too loud. 

Bucky looked over as he saw his oldest friend and lover groan before face planting dramatically on the bed beside him. He lifted his right hand and reached over to tangle it in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. Still scared to use his left one. That hand was his weapon for so long, he was still wary of it. 

“What’s up, doll?” Bucky softly muttered. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothin’” 

“This doesn’t seem like nothing, Stevie.” 

Bucky sat himself upright, before moving his hand back to the back of Steve’s head. Steve just groaned again and buried himself further into the sheets, but shuffled closer to Bucky. 

“It’s about Peter.”

“What about the kid?”

Steve sat up, and placed himself beside Bucky, putting his head on his shoulder. 

“Pretty sure he’s holding something back, something’s going on and I don’t like it.” 

Steve grabbed Bucky’s metal hand, and squeezed it a little. Bucky really had to try not to pull it away, and tried to not be overly aware of the action. Bucky still wasn’t sure Steve knew how much it meant to him, for that arm to be treated with a certain sense of normalcy. 

“The kid’s been hiding something? That’s nothing new. You do remember when we reconnected with Tony that it took a good while for Peter to tell us he was Spider-Man.”

Steve just sighed. Mumbled that it was different this time around. Bucky just held Steve close. It was weird to have him lean so casually on his metal arm and shoulder. It can’t be comfortable in the slightest. The worst part about it was that Bucky wasn’t even sure if Steve was just making a statement, or was just being Steve. 

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

“You’ve been eating too little, kid.” Bruce said, as he handed Peter a plate with three double stacked sandwiches. “I can tell, don’t try to fool me.”

“I’ve been busy.” Peter mumbled, sitting himself down at the kitchen table. 

The living areas had been quiet again, and Peter was wondering if he was just going insane or if the Avengers were running thin. It was likely a combination of both. 

Right after they had arrived from school Mr. Stark had to go into a meeting and told Peter to just hang around the living quarters until he got back and they could have an hour or two of lab time after they had dinner. Peter had asked who would be present and Mr. Stark had just told him that they’d have dinner with just the two of them in the penthouse tonight. For some reason that made the hairs at the back of his neck stand up just the tiniest bit. As if there was active danger — because this wasn’t just his anxiety. Something in Mr. Stark’s tone set off his Spidey sense. 

He had texted as much to Ned and MJ, who replied that there likely wasn’t anything big going on. Peter didn’t dare tell them that right before he had to hop into Tony’s car he had been ambushed by Flash. Because he knew how they’d react, and it wouldn’t be dissimilar to how the Avengers would likely overreact. Peter could handle himself, no need to worry others. He was scared that was what he had done, again. How he had worried Tony just like he had with the bruise. That was only yesterday. 

He was reaching new heights. Or rather; new lows.

“You know you can tell us if you need any help, right?” Bruce hesitated, unsure how to add that they were all aware of how Peter and his aunt had been trying to keep their heads above water without any help. Even with Peter’s appetite and metabolism that required at least twice the normal amount of food. And the hours May worked to make sure they could keep their apartment. 

Bruce had spoken to her twice now. She refused any help, said she didn’t want a charity case, and did not want to abuse the position Peter had been put in. Bruce wasn’t the most persuasive person, but he had managed to make her promise that if she got into actual trouble, or Peter was suffering for it, she would knock on their doors. 

Sadly for all of them, Peter — for as bad of a liar he could be — was insanely good at hiding it.

The oversized sweaters that were chronically plastered to his form did not help, and any and all footage of the crime fighting spider had a tendency to be too blurry to truly make out his weight. Bruce had heard Steve and Tony talk briefly, however, and knew there was something more going on than it seemed on the surface.

“Yeah I do, Dr. Banner. Thank you for the food. I think I’m going to do some homework now.”

And the kid was gone. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose before he himself moved back to work on another project in his lab, distracted by the thoughts about what the hell was going on with Peter. And why the kid was so scared to trust them. Anyone for that matter. Bruce was certain May, or his friends, did not know. 

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

Tony found Peter seated in the living room, Wii controller in his hand, and laughing loudly with Clint and Natasha on either side of him. Tony walked up to the back of the couch and ruffled Peter’s hair before leaning and watching how he was absolutely destroying both spies in Mario Kart. They were playing on the cracked and modded version of the game, which made it even more difficult for everyone-that-wasn’t Peter.

“Ha! Suck it.” Clint said as he threw the blue shell. 

Peter had a mushroom, however, and was the only one there that knew how to dodge a blue shell with a well timed boost. He did exactly that, and stuck out his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck you.” Clint bellowed as he leaned closer to the screen as if it would help him go faster.

“Language.” Peter said quickly, tone exactly the same as Steve’s. “Or do you want me to tell Mr. Rogers that you have been teaching me bad words?”

“You both know he swears like a sailor, and it’s just Steve, Peter.” Natasha piped in, as she threw another blue shell just before Peter was at the finish line and consecutively boosted past him across the finish line with three mushrooms. Where she had gotten that combination of items was anyone’s guess. “If you stopped yelling at each other and would have been focussed you’d have known there was a bigger threat than the bird, little spider.”

“Also, I think it’s a bigger deal if you're using that language around the kid. Being his mentor and all.”

Tony waved his hand dismissively, in a theatrical way as he swung himself onto the couch besides Nat. This time it was Clint that stuck out his tongue. 

“You still haven’t finished, chick.” Nat says and Clint focuses on trying to actually finish the race. 

Tony takes that moment to put his focus on Peter. 

“Let’s go have dinner? It’s waiting upstairs already.” Peter nods as he hands his controller to Natasha. He smiles a little lopsided but follows Tony to the small elevator at the back of the living quarters that would lead to the penthouse.

As they arrive Tony puts his hand on Peter’s lower back as he leads him into the kitchen. On the countertop are steaming containers of Peter’s favourite food from various places. Peter has to swallow the emotions he feels rise in his throat. He wasn’t aware that Mr. Stark had remembered his preferences and his favourite places to get food from. Most weren’t even located in – or near – the tower. 

He let his guard down as he started to eat. He didn’t really realise how hungry he had been until Bruce had handed him the sandwiches an hour or two ago. He was distracted enough when playing Mario Kart to not notice how his intestines were complaining. Now that he was scarfing down actually good and warm food it was difficult to stop. 

Tony just watched on, a small smile on his face. He couldn’t shake the frown however as he saw a text message come in from Natasha. 

Nat: Why does the little spider have the faintest outline of a hand on his cheek? It’s barely noticeable, it might be gone now due to his accelerated healing, but it was there. Ask Bruce.

Tony has to repress a frustrated sigh from leaving his mouth. And he types a reply as he sees Peter play with the hem of his sleeve. What is revealed by the shifting fabric has Tony widen his eyes. There’s definitely some form of handprint visible. All of this meant three things. 

Peter had his walls up way too far, and Tony was determined to show him he had no reason for them here.

Peter did not eat enough, as his healing factor had been significantly too slow the past days. Slower than Tony had seen before. Tony was not sure if he had to blame May for this or if the kid himself was at fault for hiding. The first would be the easy answer to Tony’s heart, even if he rationally knew it was likely the latter.

Peter was physically hurt, and something happened at school. Steve might be right with his assumption based on – at that point – barely any physical evidence. 

Worst of it all: Peter was hiding again, and Tony was going to figure out why.

“Pete, we need to talk.”

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

Natasha found Steve curled up on the couch.

“Being dramatic?”

“Worried.”

“About the little spider?”

Steve just mumbled. 

“Is it bad that I want to see if I can find his best friend and ask him if he knows what’s up?”

Steve sat upright, his hair sticking in various different directions. Natasha continued to stand as she wearily eyed Vision sitting in the corner, reading another book on poetry. He still made her feel on edge because he was so difficult to read. 

“It is, but I am not against such tactics.” Natasha said, while she focussed on Steve and shifted a little so Vision would still be in the corner of her eye. “Ned seems nice enough, but he is terrible at keeping secrets. So do you have a plan of attack, Captain?” 

The last word was punctuated by a joking intonation. Natasha actively let her walls drop for a second. Vision didn’t move an inch. 

“Attack?”

“You sound like Tony.” Nat quipped. “Seems you’re back to the usual banter.”

Steve just let out a whine that he muffled in a pillow.

“Vis, got any better ideas?” Eventually rolled out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry Mr. Rogers, I was under the impression that this conversation was not necessary for me to follow, and have thus not saved it. If it is in regards to Tony’s ward, I think it is best to let Tony handle it. Must you want to do something, I would advise you to handle it carefully as Tony cares a lot about Peter. Seeing the current fragile state of your relationship and the limited efforts to make amends from either side it is statistically best to let the situation be.” It was a diplomatic reply, but it quickly became clear it was the comment coming from possible calculations as he quickly added; “Humans are rather confusing and unpredictable anyway, and I can see that both of you care. In that case I think I can rationalise why you feel that you must do something, and thus can not stop you from soothing your feelings of worry. Especially not as they seem to be affecting your work in the past week.”

Steve copied the action of muffling his theatrics with a pillow. Natasha swiftly moved closer and pressed his face into the pillow even stronger before letting go and putting her hands on her hips as Steve looked at her betrayed. 

“Thank you, Vision. We’ll keep it in mind. I think Tony just wants Pete to feel more comfortable around here, so we can at least help with that. Now Rogers-” Nat focussed herself fully on Steve who was still giving her puppy eyes. “-get your ass together, we have intel to gather.”

Chapter Text

“What do you want to talk about Mr. Stark?” Peter replied softly, yet he could feel the frayed nerves acting up.

Tony stayed silent for a bit before sitting down at the kitchen table, right beside Peter. The older man put his hands tentatively out on the table, as if he had to ground himself.

“Is something the matter, Pete?”

The panic was rising in his throat at Tony’s words, yet he knew this was coming.

He wasn’t sure they would believe his excuses this time around.

“What is it, Mr. Stark?” Peter said, trying to stall while stuffing the next piece of pizza into his mouth. He hadn’t really realised how little he had eaten and what it had done to him and his healing factor. Now that he finally did have some food in his system he was clearly burning through it quicker, as the faint feeling of bruising around his wrists was ebbing away. Metabolism working at lightning speed. The feeling of the pain finally soothing was put into contrast with the nausea from what Tony said.

“Is-” And Mr. Stark hesitated. He usually bluffed himself through it, but the look on his face made Peter swallow down the pizza with difficulty. “No, actually- what the hell happened to you when you walked out of school?” Mr. Stark started to pace. “I knew you were hiding something, you seemed down and then Nat tells me she still could see the faint outline of a hand on your cheek — which, by the way, means you have not been eating enough for your healing factor — and then I see you fiddling with the sleeves of that godawful worn hoodie you’re wearing… and then I see hand shaped bruises there, on your wrists. What the hell kid, what happened? Was it Spider-Man related? You do know that if it wasn’t you can still tell me, right? We have been over thi-”

“Fine. It was a kid at school, he is an asshole and he is annoying, but it is nothing, Mr. Stark. Just an annoying teenage boy being an annoying teenage boy. I can handle it.” Peter huffed, but his heart was beating out of his chest and he knew that the second Tony would look over to him he would call his bluff. It wasn’t nothing. 

“We went over this yesterday, Peter. You promised me you would tell me if you were hurt and also for the love of god call me Tony.”

Peter flinched and his breathing picked up. And he was right about the fact Mr. Stark- Tony would immediately know it was not nothing when after a tense pause a morbid realisation dawned on his face within seconds. 

“That bruise that I saw earlier- that wasn’t from Spider-Man either, was it?”

Peter stayed silent and tried to make himself as small as possible, before he booked it out of the room, then out of the tower. He ran around the corner, pulled the mask over his face and managed to fish one of the web shooters out before putting it on and locking it in place in one smooth motion. Before he knew it he was swinging through the streets.

Time passed by differently, and he couldn’t complete a coherent thought. He started to sing old pop-songs to himself, trying to distract his brain from everything. He knew he was nothing more than a burden. He couldn’t even keep a single promise. He felt like he was such a bad person, but no one should have to keep up with him. He had lost too many people, and he barely even had Tony before he knew he would lose him again. It was inevitable and he rather had it happen now than when he would finally allow some form of stupid hope to come up and make a home in his chest. Hope was stupid, anyway. Peter was better off on his own.

As Peter got back into the apartment through the window he stumbled over to the couch where his aunt was sitting. She was visibly tired from work. He didn’t hesitate for a second before collapsing against her side. As he started to sniffle his aunt just held him close. When he said he had lost the internship and Mr. Stark didn’t want to talk to him anymore, his aunt just caressed his hair and his face and told him it would be okay.

May put him into bed, only for him to sneak out again when he heard the snores from her room. He knew she wouldn’t like it when he got out, feeling mentally like this. Yet it was his only form of relief. He forgot to pull some of his punches that evening, and eventually ended up on top of a tall building a mere couple of blocks away from the apartment in Queens. He was too tired to let more tears fall. 

✧˖°. 🕸️🕷️🕸️ .°˖✧

In the kitchen Tony felt himself panic. He tried to call after Peter but the young kid was too agile, too quick, and was out the door before Tony realised what had happened. The radio silence from May even hours later did not help. He had tried calling her twice but both calls went straight to voicemail. Usually he would try to pretend to be more aloof and less phased, but it was difficult. It sunk in how much he really loved Peter, and that realisation only strengthened when Tony went to look for Steve. He was looking for Steve to find comfort and solace. To find someone he knew cared as much as he did. 

“What you got is special Tony, we’ll find him. We’re gonna look for him. Give him time, alright?”

“I fucked up big time.”

“This isn’t the worst thing you’ve had to fix, Tony. I know we said the best approach was to take it slow but I can’t imagine seeing him hurt two days in a row with bruises that should have healed did you any good. You were worried. You didn’t do this out of malice or distrust.”

“I KNOW!” Tony yelled, before he immediately shrunk in on himself, backing away. “I know.” He repeated softer.

Steve did not dare touch Tony, even if he wanted to wrap the man in his arms and tell him that it would all be alright. It would always all be alright, as long as they stuck together.

“I haven’t even told Pepper yet. I don’t really want the others to find out. They will kill me, Capsicle.”

“There’s the Tony I know.” Steve smiled a little at the nickname. “A little birdie told me he had seen footage of Spider-Man going out tonight, so he must be on patrol.”

Tony picked up on the hesitation in his voice. 

“Fess up, what is it?”

“It’s three in the morning, you promise me you won’t rush out and confront him?”

Tony waved a hand in dismissal, but Steve pinned him down with a look until Tony sighed and agreed he wouldn’t. They both knew he likely still would. Tony sat down against the wall of Steve’s bedroom.

“He wasn’t pulling his punches like he usually does, his fighting was aggressive, his usual mindfulness of his form after having trained with Natasha when she returned here seemingly forgotten. I don’t think he was angry… he just looked out of it.”

“Great.” Tony spit. “Fucking great. Spider-Man almost killed a guy and I am to blame. He’s a kid, Steve. He’s- he’s-”

“I know, Tones. I know.” Steve sighed as he took place beside Tony. Not quite touching, but close enough to be comforting. “It’s not your fault. Pete’s skittish and we have talked before about how it has been worrying you. It has been worrying me. Goodness Tony, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much emotion on Natasha’s face when we talk about him. Even Buck seems to be on edge if Peter’s actively doing bad. And you know how Buck is at times when he cares, but doesn’t want to admit to it. Bruce was in the kitchen, making sandwiches for Peter. All of these actions say enough.”

Tony lets his head fall in between his knees, before rubbing his face with both his hands. His beard has been getting out of control a little in the past week. With little public appearances and not much to do he had let it grow, and his hair was also slightly longer than his taste. It was a tangled mess.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder and they briefly looked at each other, matching frowns. 

“I know you want to go look for him, but maybe give him some time. It’s a lot to unpack.”

“He’s being bullied, Steve. Physically abused, even.”

And to anyone who ever thought Captain America wouldn’t kill civilians, or was too moral for such small things as thinking of killing a teen – the look that passed over his face in that very moment was evidence against such naiveties. Captain America did not like bullies, Steve Rogers even less so. 

Especially not bullies of the ones he cared for.

Silence stretched across the room, and Steve clenched his fists to hold himself back. His super-soldier hearing had picked up on Tony’s breath that was the slightest bit shallow from his emotions, and the hand that was still perched on his shoulder could feel the tenseness settled in the muscles. If Steve looked close enough he could see the stains of a tear still on Tony’s cheek. It was enough evidence.

“If I see that bully, it’s on sight.” 

Tony jumped, Steve just smiled and made a move to stand up and greet Bucky. He had long since heard the silent footfall, no amount of Winter Soldier training and torture could fool Steve’s super hearing. 

“Buckaroo no one is going to drop kick a child, not even the good captain. Sadly, I can’t allow it.”