Chapter Text
The rounds were fast; one popping off every second or so. The guns were certainly automatic. Peter’s thoughts flashed to the one person that had used those weapons against him recently, Harry’s cruel profile cemented behind his eyes.
Tony leapt to his feet. Steve seized his shield, holding it up protectively in front of himself. Peter fiddled with the IV and pulled it free of his skin, tugging all of the wires and cords from his body.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. unlock Mark 47. Steve, where are the others?” Tony rushed to help Peter up from the bed. Peter’s leg and hip quivered in pain and a swell of nausea came to meet him, but he curbed all evidence of fragility and leaned on his Dad for support.
“The cafeteria is on the 2nd floor. They’re probably heading towards the shooters-”
“Robots.” Peter corrected in a tight voice. Harry was finally coming after them. Shooters were human. Shooters could be easy to take down. Robots made of high grade materials with impossibly fast reflexes and a semi-functional cognition -- those would be harder to overpower.
Tony gave him a long look, as if still trying to determine where Peter ended and Spider-Man began. “The robots you brought the tech of to study at the lab? The ones with the low-functioning AI?”
“Exactly.” Peter thought back to how difficult they had been to beat, unable to do so while he was fighting on his own. Those had just been prototypes as well. If any improvements had been made on their design? Catching any of the Avengers alone could end dangerously, especially when they hadn’t come prepared for a fight. “I-I know that you don’t want to hear this, but I need you guys to take the other Avengers and get out.”
“Do you hear the same gunshots I do?” Steve looked at him in disbelief that Peter would even suggest they take off. “This isn’t the work of some back-alley thug. Harry knows you’ve been compromised, and is taking advantage of his chance to get you while you’re down.”
“He won’t kill me.” Peter wasn’t sure why he was confident in the fact, but he had rivaled against Harry long enough to know that he didn’t find satisfaction in gunning someone down. He wanted to watch Peter crack under the gravity of his decisions. He wanted to watch Peter suffer. “I think he knows you guys are here, and I think... h-he came to kill you.”
“He can try.” Tony scoffed.
“Listen, the robots I fought against weren’t compact enough for hospital floors. They looked like they were designed to attack a fortress. Harry probably wanted me to get taken out so he could come after you when I couldn’t protect you. But he would have accounted for me being in the custody of the police by now, not here with you guys.” Peter threw a glance to the side, to check if his Spider-man suit was nearby. He didn’t see it, but he doubted his parents would have brought him to the hospital in it, anyways. “Dad doesn’t even have his suit with him yet. Get somewhere safe. Let me take care of Harry. I promise… I promise I won’t die. I have to finish what I started.”
“Peter.” Tony fingers secured against his shoulder, to keep him taut against his body. Peter drug his gaze up to meet his father’s, finding eyes that were hardened by anguish he’d endured for years; knowledge that could only be gained from going to Hell and back. “You’re our son. Whatever demons you have, we face together. Together. We are not losing you again”
The shooting had started to vary off pattern. It came out in more irregular spurts, occasionally dying off for a few seconds before returning for a vengeance. It had to be the Avengers fighting the bots.
“Attention personnel. We are experiencing a code silver on floor 2. Code silver. Emergency department, code silver. This is not a drill. We are going into lockdown.”
The overhead announcement played brokenly over the speakers in the hallways, hauntingly drowned out by rapid-fire bullets and abandoned machines. The floor they were on was rather empty. He wasn’t sure what ward they were in, but he knew Tony was smarter than to let Peter be treated in a public space.
There was a loud bang against the ground from under them that made the room shake. Something had been thrown into the ceiling from a lower level. It was hard enough that dust fell from the tiles lining the roof. Then the shooting died off.
“Dad, Pop, please. ” Peter peeled himself free of Tony’s arms, stumbling back against his hospital bed as his stomach gave a protesting lurch. Oh god, his body was in so much pain. “Go!”
“Pete, stop aggravating your injuries and get in the corner. ETA on that suit, Tony?”
“5 minutes.” Tony grunted as he glanced down at his wrist. “Do you think that was the team winning or the robots?”
“I’m keeping my hopes on the team.”
Another voice started wailing for help. This time, it was on their floor, and the woman sounded terrifyingly close to Nurse Benson.
Peter propelled himself off of the bed, darting forward towards the door, but he was stopped almost instantly by the solid grip of his father.
“Stay here.” Steve pushed Peter back behind him. “I’ll go make sure the area is secure. You both need to stay out of sight until I get back, okay?”
“Pop-”
“Okay?”
Peter sighed. Steve took that as his acceptance and he pulled the door shut behind him. The sounds of his footsteps departed until they could no longer be heard, leaving Tony and Peter to wait tensley for Tony’s suit to arrive.
“I’m sorry.” Peter whispered, his voice unsteady with worry. He was scared; not just for the Avengers, but terrified that innocent, good people had been gunned down because of him.
“Hey, hey, don’t freak out.” Tony was at his side in a second, pulling his face up with firm hands. He pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, his facial hair scratching his skin in a familiar way that made him want to start bawling all over again. “Steve will be back in a second, and then we’ll get you out of here and take care of this asshole. You’re alive , and that’s how we want you to stay.”
They fell again into weighted stillness, the puffing of their hot breathing being the only noise either made. Peter grew increasingly worried that Steve had been injured, but he wasn’t the only one riddled with anxiety Tony’s fingers were twitching against his cheeks. The agony of being unable to assist their teammates was affecting them both.
After what felt like an eternity but was likely only 30 seconds, multiple footsteps were approaching the door again. Peter realized too late that they didn’t belong to anyone that they could trust. The hairs on his arm went stiff, and he shoved his father back just as the steps made it to the entrance of the room .
The door splintered off its hinges with the cracking of gunfire. Peter tackled Tony and toppled both of them over the edge of the mattress, crashing against the tile floor with him on top to cover Tony’s body. He wheezed for a moment, senses overloaded and blinding him with the rain of bullets in every which direction. The window smashed to pieces, the TV broke, and papers and cushions were flying. Tony was grabbing him, and calling his name faintly, but Peter had trouble processing more than the sound of him speaking. His head was on fire, as was the rest of his body, and holy hell he just needed a second of silence to catch his breath.
Just as fast as the gunfire started, it was sharply halted, leaving Peter reeling from the accompanying tinnitus.
“Peter Parker.”
Harry was there. The shock of his voice was enough to drag Peter from his stupor. He grabbed hold of the bed frame for purchase and hauled himself to his knees. Across the room was his childhood friend; contorted with green flesh looking rotten across the sides of his face, and protruding black veins cutting over his cheekbones. He looked as awful as Peter remembered, and just as power-drunk. Tony tried to get up from the floor where he’d been pinned, but Peter kept him down with a warning push.
“Harry.” Peter puffed back. Through the burn he got to his feet. He was shaky, but he was standing. A warm wetness had started to pool at his hip, making the front of his gown stick to his skin, his stitches severed from the fall. The memory of his friend was there. The apparition that had haunted his nightmares for half a year, and the one that had torn his family apart. Peter wouldn’t let him get away this time. He planned to drag him from his dark path and help him become who he once was. “There’s innocent people here. Let’s take this somewhere else, and we can talk this out.”
“You broke our deal, Peter.” Harry’s voice was twisted. He sounded confident that he’d already won, and it made Peter’s worry spike for the other members of the Avengers. “We had rules. Remember?”
“Why did you go after Bruce?” Peter cut in. He knew the timer was still ticking until the Mark 47 got here, and Peter intended to run it out as fast as possible. Once Tony was inside his suit, Peter didn’t care how many bullets Harry shot at them. “He did everything you asked. You tried to pin me for murder. Once I got arrested, you had to know they’d unmask me, and your plan would fail. So why send the police after me in the first place?”
Harry’s lips curled into a wolfish smirk. He didn’t speak for a moment, letting Peter shrink under the dizzying silence. Then he snickered. “Tony Stark is behind you, isn’t he?”
Peter’s eyes were telling. Despite trying to keep his composure, he was at a loss for words. Realizing he’d given away Tony’s position, he held a hand up to keep Harry back, placing his uninjured leg on Tony’s chest to anchor him to the ground. “Harry, stop . He’s not part of this.”
“But he is! What did your fathers say, when you pulled off the mask? When they realized their son was a dirty criminal that had been lying to them for years?”
Peter didn’t dignify his taunts with a response, his jaw setting straight instead.
“See, Spider, my plan went nearly perfect. I got to watch you torture your family. You lost your perfect little life. You got to understand everything you did to me. But I will say, I didn’t expect that even a well placed bullet wouldn’t kill your Hulk. He was supposed to be dead, and you were supposed to be in prison on the other side of the world. When your Uncle turned, well, that created issues for me.” Harry crossed the room, his steps echoing metallically off the floor. Peter braced himself, but he couldn’t fight him when the machine guns attached to Harry’s robot were aimed at his head. He hauled Tony to his feet, and pushed his Dad behind him to use himself as a makeshift shield.
“You’re a fucking lunatic.” Tony jeered, holding tightly onto Peter’s wrist. When Peter glanced down, he saw the time. 2 minutes away. “Seriously, Yoda, what the hell happened to you that made you this hateful? Have you tried counseling?”
“PETER KILLED MY FATHER !” Harry suddenly erupted, his lips falling and bending into an angry snarl. “In cold blood! Left him to die alone like the monster Peter thought he was!” He raised a hand and the magazine on the robot’s firearm rotated.
Peter braced himself to throw Tony across the room, through the wall if he had to to keep him out of harm’s way, but Harry didn’t order it to shoot.
“I knew Peter would be released, after some time, after they realized who he was. But I wasn’t going to let him come crawling back, thinking everything was fine. I wanted him to come back to nothing. To a dead family. I wanted to tear everyone from his life. And while my plan may not have gone off perfectly, I can still destroy everything he has left….starting with you, Stark.”
“Dad-!”
“Enjoy watching your father take his last breath, Parker!” Harry cackled. His hand swiped down, the guns geared up, and the barrel exploded with bullets aimed in their direction.
Peter ripped the frame of the gurney up in front of him as blankets and pillows tumbled to the ground, and kicked it vertically. It stopped the majority of the fire, but the force of the attack was making it twist every which way, and he stabilized it with both hands to keep it from toppling over. In the corner of his eye, he could see Harry pulling a pistol up in their direction, aiming it at them. At Tony.
His head was a flurry of a dozen different plans and scenarios. There was nowhere else to run. He had nowhere to keep Tony safe. The gurney was barely big enough to hide them from one enemy, and definitely not two. If his Dad ran, he’d be gunned down by the robot. If he stayed here, Harry would shoot him. He didn’t know what to do, and the reality that he was about to lose Tony made him shout in distress, voice tearing out of his chest and jarring them both.
The gun banged, and Peter screamed out for Tony to get out of the way.
Something, someone , was watching over them that day. Harry had only pulled the trigger back a fraction before he yelped in pain, his arm being snapped aggressively to the side.
Peter looked up with wild eyes as his ex-best friend crashed to the wall behind him, the gun in his hand scattering across the floor. The robot packing the doorway cut off its shots when Harry went down. Standing over him was the man that had kicked him, his fists clenched and his chest heaving under armor. He was tall, not quite as big as Steve or Bucky, but certainly as formidable. Tiny horns protruded from the curve of his helmet, adding to the unnerving appearance of his entire outfit. And his head was turned halfway to Peter.
“D-Daredevil.” Peter stammered.
“I told you I’d help you.” Matt said over his shoulder, turning his attention to the robot that had ceased its firing as Harry went down. “Sorry it had to come so late.”
“Don’t let him take all the credit!”
Through the shattered window, another black glove materialized, and a second later, a familiar red mask peered enthusiastically past the shards . White lenses scanned the room then settled on Peter, and he would have shouted in relief and glee if he hadn’t just been waiting for Tony’s impending death.
“I’m here, too, baby boy! To save the day! Jesus sitting on a stick, this floor is really high.” Wade dug his hands into the sill and hiked himself up onto it, before tumbling unceremoniously onto the ground of the hospital room, broken glass crackling beneath his weight. “Next time, choose something a little less high-rise and more my height, yeah, webs?”
“How did -- How did you know --?”
“We’ve been following his movements.” Matt explained. “One of Harry’s sympathizers within Oscorp has been helping him; ordering parts, redirecting shipments, smuggling technology. Once we found him, it was easy to track his plans and obtain information. A special agent Barrera was particularly helpful in that regard.”
Harry glared up at Matt wanly, and Tony choked back a noise behind him. He guessed Barrera was someone that had been key in starting the entire operation.
“B-But, Wade…”
“Came to find me after your phone call. He was the reason I knew Osborn was going to come after you tonight.”
Peter met Wade’s gaze. The mercenary gave him a discreet thumbs up, and an exhausted smile drew over Peter’s lips.
“Shoot them!” Harry shrieked at his robot. The gun that had been aimed at Peter shifted, pointing directly at Matt and Wade. Matt dove out of the way of the gunfire while Wade seized a pillow to fling at the robot’s face, probably getting pierced by a couple of bullets on his way. It bought them enough time; Matt was able to lunge at bot and kick its gun up while Wade slid in, his katanas glinting in the hospital light, and cut at one of its joints. Harry was bolting out the door a moment later, tapping buttons on his wrist-watch; likely to call in aid from the lower floors.
“Stay here until your suit comes.” Peter ordered Tony without looking back, and took off after him as the two red vigilantes fought with the bot.
The moment Peter stepped out into the hall, he was greeted by another robot three times his size, blocking the pathway Harry was escaping down. A sharp tingle ran down his spine and he had sprang out of the way of a rain of bullets before they could crack against the tile where he’d just stood. His stomach was wrung with fresh sickness as his wounds throbbed deep in his bones, and he prepared to fight the robot with his fists if he had to to get to Harry.
A zing of metal rang through his ears, and then a katana bounced off the seemingly indestructible chest of his obstacle. Peter looked up at Wade as he rebounded out of the way of a retaliating attack, and the man gave him a brief wave of his hand. “Go get him baby cakes!” He shouted out in encouragement, and Peter took the quick opening to leap over a broken desk and take off down the hallway again.
Harry was escaping quickly, but even injured, Peter was a faster runner. He bent to grab a piece of splintered wood from the floor just as Harry got to the emergency exit door, aiming carefully for the back of Harry’s knee before pitching it into his joint. Harry yelped and toppled to the floor, groping fingers barely missing the door handle that would keep him on his feet. Peter was on him in a second. He jerked out of the path of one wild punch and seized Harry’s wrist when he made a grab for one of his knives he kept tucked into his pocket. His ears were ringing with the rush of adrenaline, and it kept his mind off of the fact that his gown was soaked through with blood. He’d bleed out a dozen times before he let Harry escape again.
“You’re done, Harry.” Peter hissed, squeezing tighter onto his arm. Without his bots or his gadgets, he didn’t have the strength to fight him. “Call off your robots and give up.”
“I’ll never lose to you, Parker.” Harry spit. “You deserve worse than I’ve given you.”
Peter jolted, his head buzzing with warning, and he rolled backwards off of Harry before a blast of electricity could hit him from Harry’s armor. He crouched to tackle him once more, but someone had grabbed his shoulder and drug him back with a force he couldn’t resist.
Peter’s gaze went out of focus, stepping on his shattered hip making him reel with pain. After a moment, he blinked blearily up at the face of the man who had stopped him, piercing blue eyes gazing at him, solemn.
“You are hurt, Peter.” Thor was looking at him with blue eyes clouded with anger, and his attention was diverted to the Goblin on the floor. “Stand back. I will take him from here.”
Peter watched in a daze as the god walked menacingly towards the smaller man, and his hand gripped the front of Harry’s armor to drag him into the air. Harry’s body cracked into the wall with enough force to break his chestplate, and he made a strangled noise before going limp in Thor’s grasp.
“Is he...okay?” Peter breathed, slipping down to one knee as he gingerly put pressure on his burning hip.
“I did not kill him, if that is what you are asking.” Thor chuckled as if Peter was ridiculous for being wary, and extended a hand to help him stand. “I feel very strongly that he deserved nothing less, but Natasha was insistent it would only serve to upset you.”
“Well, thanks.” Peter limped back towards the hotel room with Thor’s assistance, each step more painful than the last as the adrenaline started to ebb out of his bloodstream, leaving him with the damage he was still healing from. “Are the other Avengers okay?”
“When I was there, they were fighting valiantly. I am sure no one has gotten hurt since then, despite my absence.”
They got back to the main nursing station, where Peter had left Wade to fight the robot. It was now laying in a collapsed heap on the floor, Matt and Wade standing over it. The gunshots were no longer filling the hospital. Instead, it sounded like people were evacuating on lower floors, though Peter found it difficult to focus enough to hear more than general noise.
“Steve, I’m fine! Where’s Peter?”
“Calm down, Tony, you’ll bleed out faster. The others have him”
Peter’s eyes darted to the doorway of the room. His parents were speaking. “Bleed out?” Peter croaked, stumbling towards the door in a daze. He nearly tumbled over, only barely being caught by Sam’s hands groping at his shoulders to keep him upright.
“Whoa, kiddo, your dad has it handled.” Sam’s voice soothed, though it didn’t serve to lessen the pounding of his heart. “Give him space.”
“T-Tony’s hurt-”
Steve emerged from the doorway a moment later, Tony folded in his arms like a child. Peter made an alarmed noise at the sight of his father’s stomach oozing crimson. Tony’s head shot to the side, his own eyes widening, presumably due to Peter’s own bloody state.
“H-He’s bleeding, Steve.” Tony tried to reason, in a voice that was disturbingly weak.
Peter’s knee buckled as the agony of reopened wounds finally knocked him dizzy, and he heard an upset in the voices around him as he tumbled. Someone was at his side, lifting him back to his feet, as the blaring alarm sounding through the hospital seemed to grow piercingly loud compared to the rest of the Avengers.
“...I have you .” Whoever had helped him was whispering in his ear, rubbing fingers into the parts of his body that didn’t hurt. Peter kept his eyes squeezed shut tightly, the image of Tony’s gunshot wound festering in his head.
“D-Dad.” Peter choked, feeling winded.
“He’ll be okay, baby boy. Just stay calm.” The person murmured again. More hands touched Peter. He couldn’t check to see who it was if he tried, his head rushing in a thousand different directions. “Stay with us. Everything will be perfectly okay.”
Everything will be okay. It was the last thing Peter thought before his consciousness gave way to the searing that pulsed through his core.
--
Peter had torn his stitches, displaced the pins that had been holding the shattered pieces of his ilium together, and had bled out enough to send himself into a 12 hour unresponsive sleep following the incident. However, he’d made a miraculous recovery from a very-possibly fatal situation, and his burn had even mostly healed overnight. Or at least, that’s what his doctor had told him when he’d woken up the next day. He felt more like he’d gotten thrown into a wall by the Hulk and pummeled a few times than he felt like a survivor.
He was in a new room; smaller, and in a much busier area than when he’d been in the secluded wing. Peter had heard a nurse discussing with someone of authority that his door was to be kept closed at all times unless authorized visitors had come by, but so far, no one else had stopped in.
It took every ounce of control in Peter to sit still in bed while he waited for news, but he only lasted about 10 minutes, by his own approximation, before he was dragging himself to his feet and tugging various needles and sensors off of his arms and hands. Standing ached, primarily in the hip that had taken the bullet, though his calf was still sore as it was in the last wave of healing. He had barely limped to the window and started to fiddle with the lock when the door slipped open behind him, and Peter turned to see Bruce looking unimpressed in the doorway.
“Peter.” Bruce cleared his throat, sporting two paper coffee cups in his hands, a stack of what appeared to be clothing tucked under his arm. He kicked the door shut behind himself as Peter guiltily faced him. “Your doctor just told us you woke up a minute ago, and you’re already trying to run off?”
“I’ve been awake longer.” Peter tried to defend himself with an embarrassed expression. “I wanted to find Tony.”
Bruce let out an exasperated breath and set the cups down on an empty table, holding out the pile of clothes to his nephew. Peter scampered forward to take them, glad to see they were from his closet. “I told Steve I’d see if you were up to visiting your Dad. He’s doing fine after the surgery. Just coming off of his anaesthesia.”
“That’s good.” Peter breathed in relief, carefully tugging on the sweatpants as to not aggravate his wounds any further. “A-And the shooting... were there any…? Did anyone get…?”
“No deaths, thankfully.” Bruce reassured. “It seemed Harry really was only after you and the Avengers. SHIELD took him into custody. Worst case scenario, they find out your identity, but it’ll be contained information. A lot of damage was caused to the hospital, however, so quite a few of the patients and staff were transferred to other facilities. All of the Avengers are alright as well, minus a few bumps and scrapes, but we sent them home to let you recover in peace, and Tony’s gunshot missed pretty much all of the important parts. You both should be able to leave this afternoon.”
Peter finished tugging on his shirt, relishing in the thought of returning home with them. The idea that things might actually be okay still felt foreign to him. Even if he couldn’t return to the way things were after everything they’d been through, he could at least go back to having a family.
“Are they mad at me?” Peter asked before his brain could catch up to his mouth. “For lying, the attack…”
Bruce chuckled, taking Peter off guard. “Peter, this wound is still fresh for them. I still can’t believe that you’re back, and I’ve known you were alive throughout the entire ordeal. Things are going to be weird. They’re going to want explanations. But no, they could never be mad at you. You don’t know how...important you are to this family.” He picked up the coffee cups and deposited one in Peter’s hands, before lightly patting his uninjured shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go see your Dads before Tony convinces himself you were an anaesthesia-induced hallucination.”
--
The sun was setting when their car finally pulled up to Avengers Tower.
After a short exchange with Happy expressing his joy that Peter was alive, they trudged up to the penthouse where the others were waiting. Between Peter and Steve, Tony was practically being carried up the stairs, though they let him pretend he was doing some of the walking.
The door opened with a short greeting from FRIDAY, and the four hobbled inside. In the living room sat an arrangement of the Avengers, and a hush fell over them when they all came into sight around the corner.
“I can get your Dad to the couch.” Steve said softly to Peter as he took on more of Tony’s weight effortlessly. Sam and Wanda made room to let Tony lay down, as he groaned from the effort. After a bit of fiddling he was propped against pillows, and then he joined the others in staring up in disbelief at Peter.
God. He was really here...with everyone.
Peter felt he should say something. He knew they were waiting for him to break the tense silence, but his mind suddenly couldn’t form a single word. They’d fought his demons and...and they won.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally cleared his throat, rubbing his upper arm just to have something to do with his hands. “I’m really really sorry.”
“Why?”
All eyes looked up to stare at Wanda. Someone who had quickly become the sister he never had, and he’d become another brother she’d lost. “Why did you do it? I don’t care about how, or where you’ve been, or how you became Spider-Man and managed to not tell anyone about that. I just want to know why you thought you should lie to all of us? Put us through losing you?”
Peter took in a shuddering breath, the question reverberating through his chest. Why? That was a loaded answer that needed more information than he could offer.
So he explained.
He told them about Harry- the death of his father and the guilt that had torn Peter up for years. He and Bruce relived the kidnapping, Peter’s threatened identity reveal and the threats Harry had made against Bruce’s life if Peter were to break Harry’s rules. He explained the obituary he’d received upon Betty’s murder, as a reminder Harry was always watching him, and there was no escaping. Tony asked about the robots and they connected the dots with the information Matt had briefly explained in the hospital room. In the end, despite Peter meticulously following each of Harry’s conditions, he still sent someone to murder Bruce and tried to frame Spider-Man using a member of the NYPD, and everything had gone crazy from there.
Peter quietly finished the story, his voice slowly disappearing as he neared the attack occasionally being interrupted when he had to gather himself as to not burst out in hysterics once more.
The room fell silent again after it all.
“We could have helped you, man.” Sam said quietly, the intensity of the room laying heavily over their shoulders. “You didn’t have to try to take this all alone. You should trust us. We could have taken care of you.”
“I do trust you, and I know that. But there’s more lives that were in danger than mine. And while you guys have the ability to protect yourselves… They don’t.”
Tony made an upset noise from where he laid on the couch, and Peter could see his hands clenching. “You were being watched, I get that. Why didn’t Bruce say anything?”
“Don’t get mad at him. He did what he could.”
“Except telling us?”
“Would you have?” Peter challenged, turning on him. “Bruce tried to stop me with a bomb strapped to his chest. He was willing to give up his life to stop me from ruining mine. And he wasn’t going to betray my trust, or all of the people Harry could kill in my name.” He paused, shaking his head. “It’s not his fault. Don’t turn it into that.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about Spider-Man?” Steve spoke up. While Peter could see the effort to keep his expression mellow and understanding, his eyes were hard. “How long have you been at this?”
Peter caught his breath, unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. In the end, he decided lying wouldn’t benefit anyone. “5 years.”
“5 years.” Steve repeated as his face paled. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen Spider-Man almost die? Yet you always came home. You told us they were school fights. Accidents.”
“I got better at not getting injured.” Peter flushed, growing uncomfortable.
“Why didn’t you tell us? Any of us?” Steve repeated, more demandingly, making Peter wince. Seeing this, he at least seemed to back off.
“You thought Spider-Man was a criminal.” Peter responded more quietly. “What was I supposed to do? By the time I had joined the Avengers… I had gotten too used to keeping it a secret. It felt pointless to tell anyone.”
“You put us all through a lot, Peter.” Tony spoke, his voice sounded closer to pain than actual scolding.
“I’m s--”
“No. No more apologies. Mostly because my painkillers are wearing off.” Tony shifted on the couch, wincing as his fingers hovered over the bandage on his abdomen. “We know. You’re sorry. But never do something like that again. I know you were scared, but that was one of the worst things you could have ever done.”
“I still cannot believe you were not dead.” Thor spoke gravely, also looking exhausted from the events that transpired.. “I watched many sufferings over you, Peter.”
“Your Aunt.” Steve said softly. “Are you going to tell her?”
Peter paused, and shook his head. “Not yet. Not ‘til I figure out if I can even...go back to normal life. How do I explain where I was for the past 6 months without involving Spider-Man?”
“We’ll figure that out for you.” Natasha answered. She didn’t look as upset as she had in the hospital room, and Peter was glad. Her hits hurt more than most people’s. “It may take some time, but that gives you a few days to settle back in.”
“Thank you.” Peter swallowed hard, and looked around one last time at his family. As much as he wanted to reconcile with each of them, there was one person who wasn’t there he really needed to see. “Does anyone know where Wade is?”
Sam stiffened, glancing around them with a peeved expression. “That guy came back with us. He must have ran off.”
“I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. locate him.” Tony said.
“No, it’s okay.” Peter looked down at his empty ring finger, clenching his fist. “I think I know exactly where he is.”
--
It had taken a lot of convincing for his parents to allow Peter to leave the room and not be in their direct sights, though he promised he wouldn’t disappear on them. He could still see the discomfort with being separated from him, but someone else also needed time, and it was an excuse for Bruce to administer Tony more painkillers while the other Avengers split off to check in on the Harry situation and work on the schematics of Peter’s public return.
Peter slipped out onto the hangar as the door shut behind him. As he expected, Wade sat in Peter’s comfort spot, somber as he looked out into the distance over the busy city streets. Peter slowly moved to sit beside him, resting a hand over Wade’s gently, testingly mostly, to see if he’d draw it away. Much to his surprise, Wade flipped his hand and cradled Peter’s fingers within his own.
“It was really easy to forgive you over the phone.” Wade murmured, his eyes staring out at something Peter couldn’t see. “It didn’t feel real. Not like seeing you again in person. I still can’t believe that you’re alive.”
“You know I wanted to tell you I was Spider-Man.” Peter said quietly, his heart racing. He wasn’t sure, out of all people, how he could apologize to Wade. He was the one person Peter didn’t have to lie to, yet he had. “It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you.”
“I’ve told him a lot of embarrassing things about you over the years.” Wade said jokingly, though the hurt in his voice was evident. He was obviously struggling to keep up his normal facade. “Now you both know my secret desires.”
“Secret? You always told me anyways.” Peter answered earnestly, finding it hard to keep up with the jokes.
“I can’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to tell me, either.” Wade murmured back, and that quickly ended the lightheartedness of the conversation.
“You were going to propose?” Peter looked up as he Wade lifted their hands, and gently planted a kiss on Peter’s knuckles.
“Was.”
“Not anymore?”
“You died.”
Peter swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut. His heart and stomach were twisting in horribly uncomfortable ways. “You’re the one I wanted to tell the most. Out of anyone. But I couldn’t put you through that.”
“You can’t do that to me.” Peter looked up at Wade, who had slipped off his mask, not needing it in front of Peter. Peter had repetitively told him how beautiful he thought Wade was, even when suffering hard emotions like now. His free hand rubbed awkwardly under his eyes, and Peter could feel his own tears threatening to fall.
“Lie?”
“Die.” Wade’s sweet eyes were looking at him, and it was a sight Peter had missed oh so dearly. The raw emotion in Wade’s voice was something Peter didn’t have to experience often, and definitely not to this degree. “Go to whatever shithole lies beyond this even bigger shithole. That’s the one place you can go that I can’t follow. I’m not ready to live without you.”
Peter’s gaze lowered to the floor with guilt, his head slowly pressing down against Wade’s shoulder. His comforting arms wrapped around him, and soft lips pressed against the top of his head.
“I love you.” Peter whispered as tears fell down his cheeks, though he felt a great weight lifting off his shoulders. This was something he didn’t want to lose.
Wade grabbed Peter’s hand. He seemed to study the finger that the promise ring wasn’t on, still stashed back at his apartment. A cold metal slipped over his knuckle, and Peter felt kisses litter his hand. Had Wade really gone back to get the promise ring for him?
When his hand was returned tenderly to his lap, his eyes glanced down at the diamond encrusted engagement ring that glittered back up at him. His heart skipped a beat in disbelief, and each time he blinked, he was surprised to find it still there and not a product of the chaos he’d been through that day.
“I’m not going to waste another day without you.” Peter sat up enough to gaze up at the face of his future, his expression softening to a tearful grin. It felt so strange to finally, finally be able to smile, yet it made perfect sense his best-friend and lover would be the one to make him do it. Wade carefully pressed a hand down to Peter’s cheek, running a thumb under his eye. “Even if this world wants to fuck up our lives and tear us apart, all I need to know is that, even if we’re alone, we’re alone together. And you owe me after all of this.” Wade paused, and Peter took the chance to suck in a shaky breath. “So you’re going to marry me Peter Parker.”
Peter moved his own hand up to grip Wade’s and gently pull it away from his face, interlocking their fingers. His voice was soft, though it held all the love and sorrow he’d felt for Wade since they’d been apart. “Yes, Wade Wilson. I am.” He leaned up and planted a gentle kiss on his lips, and in that twisted moment, the world seemed to make the most sense.
--
“ Give him back !”
The gravestone of his son glimmered back up at Tony under the soft moonlight. Wilting flowers were strewn along the polished surface, the moisture of the air causing them to sag further. The cemetery was empty, save for a few birds that flew overhead.
The snow had dried up the sky, now lying in piles at his feet. It was cold, and the air was biting, but Tony couldn’t drag himself from the spot. He’d spent multiple nights within the past week coming here, and the ground had begun to indent and contort around the shape of his dress-shoes.
A flickering light above his head caught his attention. Looking up, his eyes settled on the video of a fire roaring in the open air. There was a pale, burned hand reaching out for him, as if it could see him witnessing the brutal demise. A boy was screaming. No, not a boy. Peter. Peter was screaming as the fire melted his skin. Tony froze, petrified by the sight, unable to tear his eyes away as much as he begged himself to. The air around him seemed to ignite, his vision being overtaken by flames. Peter’s screaming grew louder, now calling Tony’s name, pleading not to die. He didn’t want to die. He couldn’t--!
“Tony!”
Awake. Tony was awake. His eyes snapped open, the fleeting image of a gruesome dream dissolving away at the corners. His chin seemed to move on its own to look at the worried face of Steve, though Tony eventually registered a hand gripping his cheek. He swallowed hard to get air to his burning lungs, processing the rapidly spreading pain in his chest, both from breath deprivation and the racing of his heart. Steve allowed him another moment of registering the fact he was no longer trapped in the nightmare, before strong hands slipped down to his shaking ones to calm them.
“You’re fine.” Steve whispered, looking down to the pale fingers that seemed as if they’d break. “We’re fine.”
“Peter.” Tony managed to croak out, his voice hoarse. Had he been making noises? Shouting? He couldn’t tell.
“Is that what you were dreaming about?” The tone of Steve’s voice reflected his understanding. His hands disappeared, and Tony watched him stand from the couch as he sat up himself. “He went back to his room after you fell asleep. Do you want me to get him?”
Tony rubbed at his temple to alleviate the aching, taking note that sleeping on the couch really didn’t do good for his head. He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to his feet. “No. No need to bother him.”
Steve’s eyes softened, though he knew that wasn’t an option. His own similar night scares had taught them both that seeing him breathing was the only way to eliminate the fear. “He’s probably still awake. I’m sure he at least wanted to say goodnight.”
Tony ran his hand again over his eyes, forcing the sleep out of them. A thick breath of acceptance showed his resolve as he nodded, walking towards the hallway. “I’ll be in the room soon.” He muttered, his heart rate quietly returning to normal.
“Take your time.”
Tony paused at the bedroom door, noting it was part-ways open. They’d been weird about it being closed since Peter had returned, though it was an unspoken discussion. Somehow, they’d all mentally made the agreement Peter wouldn’t leave it shut, at least for a while, until their lives started to return back to normal. He’d only been back with them for 3 days, and at times, Tony still had moments of disbelief in which he had to confirm it wasn’t a part of some twisted dream. But every time, he came back to find Peter alive and well, and that was really all he could ask for.
Tony knocked briefly on the door, waiting for Peter’s ‘come in’ before entering. He pushed open the door to find Peter sitting on his bed, dawned in pajamas and his laptop propped on his legs. He smiled up at his Dad, though he could clearly tell something was off. He had always been horribly ignorant when it came to reading other people’s emotions, yet, since he’d come back, it seemed he had been rather skilled at treading water carefully around them, as to not say anything to spark Steve and Tony’s haywire emotions. Not that he needed to; he had his own issues to work through.
“Hey, Dad.” Peter greeted, sitting up and setting his laptop aside on the bed. He drew his legs up criss-cross under him, raising his eyebrows in curiosity at Tony’s sudden appearance. “Is everything…?”
“No worries.” Tony slipped into the swivel chair pulled up to Peter’s desk. Since they obviously knew his secret, the desk was now covered in his torn suits that Clint had been helping him sew repairs into, along with the web shooters Tony had fixed. He picked at one of the raw edges of the spandex, giving himself room to avoid looking at Peter. He didn’t want to appear too emotionally vulnerable as that wasn’t his style, but especially not when Peter had more to work out than comforting his middle-aged father. “Just wanted to come annoy you before I went to bed.”
Peter cracked a grin, which was reassuring when Tony finally glanced up at him. He felt his own body loosen up, the smile being one that had been his reason to wake up most days. He and his son had always been close in a weird way; they didn’t talk about their lives, or their problems, and definitely not their secrets or past, but they were there to help one another cope through hard times with stupid humor, and Peter had been his voice of reason in way too many situations.
“You couldn’t even make it through the movie.”
“Are you calling me old?”
“Your words.”
“Smartass.” Tony rolled his eyes, turning in the chair to face him. He caught a glance at the screen of his laptop, met with a picture of Harry Osborn from a few years ago printed across it. Peter followed his eyes down to the monitor, his breath catching. “You know we won’t let him hurt May.”
“She’s not the only one I’m worried about.” Peter mumbled miserably, the words immediately making his mood shift. He drew his knees to his chest, depositing his chin to rest on them. Harry was in SHIELD’s custody, and Matt and Karen had found all of the people that had been helping him. They didn’t know if Harry had someone on reserve to retaliate if Harry’s plan failed. As far as Peter knew, no one had been murdered yet. That was a heavy ‘yet.’ “It might not even be someone like her he goes after. Even if it was just my fourth grade teacher, or the girl I used to sit by in math class... No one deserves to die just because they knew me. He knows he’d still be hurting me.”
“We’ll take care of any threats if any of Harry’s henchman were overlooked.” Tony had no doubt on the matter. SHIELD had already been doing their own digging, monitoring every account he could possibly possess, and keeping eyes on the city from all angles. FRIDAY was also constantly at work, searching databases for possible leaks mentioning Peter by name. May had received an ‘emergency transfer request’ to nurse at another hospital in California for the time being, with two SHIELD agents watching over her. Peter wanted to be out protecting others, but with no idea of who Harry would target, he had nothing to base his patrol off of. Besides that, Tony and Steve had been keeping Peter hostage in the apartment, Wade promising to go out on nightly patrols in his place, to give him time with his family.
“I know.” Peter sighed, though the doubt was still clear on his face. He looked tired, Tony noticed, with the bags under his eyes still drooping and his face looking paler than he’d remembered. However, at least he seemed to be doing better than when he’d unmasked in front of them looking like death.
Before he’d really had time to consider his actions, Tony had crawled onto Peter’s bed. An arm cast softly over his shoulders, pulling him in to rest somewhat tensely on his chest. Peter eventually relaxed into the hold, appreciating the attempt at comfort. They sat quietly in the dim silence of the night, the only sounds interrupting the peace being the creaking of the tower. It wasn’t awkward, really. Neither had anything they needed to say, or felt compelled to speak. Tony was too focused on the fact that this was Peter; the happy, dorky teen he’d raised and cherished. This was a moment he thought he’d lost the chance to have. The fact his son was alive alongside him…
He swallowed hard when he felt the burning in his eyes, which he quickly moved to wipe away with the back of his hand. He wasn’t the emotional type, and he definitely wasn’t the crying type. But there was a powerful force to holding the one person you cared about more than anyone else in the world, especially after the hell-ish six months he’d been through.
“I’ll get out. I know you have better things to do than listening to me- which is insulting, by the way.” Tony said as he moved to look down at Peter. However, he was met with closed eyes and a softened expression. Tony wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but apparently long enough for Peter to pass out on him. He sighed lightly, moving out from underneath the limp body to lay him down against the pillows. “Goodnight, sleepyhead. Glad to have you home.” He murmured, picking a hand through his hair. Before he’d made it out the door, he glanced back over his shoulder at the bed that was no longer empty night-after-night, his hand hovering over the light switch. Peter was alive. That was all that mattered now.
--
“So you two are…?”
“Engaged.” Peter breathed somewhat cautiously. He glanced to his right at the mercenary dressed down to civies and a mask beside him, hands tucked neatly between his thighs. He seemed all too happy to be there at first glance, though Peter knew he was nervous. Hell, Peter was nervous. He hoped his parents would go easier on Wade, considering the circumstances. At first, they’d hated the idea of the two of them together, though, as time went on, Steve had begun to accept him, particularly when he and Peter had proven to truly care about one another. Tony was still on edge about their relationship before Peter had left, and he had no idea if he had faced any sort of transformation during the time he was gone.
“Really?” Wanda fell beside Peter on the couch, groping for his hand. When she’d successfully stolen it, she held it up for the other Avengers to see. His ring glimmered proudly on his finger, and he felt someone else’s fingers smushing up in the mass to study it.
“Yessiree.” Wade answered with a smirking tone, obviously loving the attention on the jewelry he’d bought Peter. “Tying the Lord’s heavenly knot with our secret attack on traditional marriage.”
“That’s great.” Sam congratulated. He ruffled Peter’s hair sweetly, then extended a hand for Wade to shake. “Good man. I know you two’ll be happy together.”
Peter grinned in return to the support, divulging his attention back to Steve and Tony that stood nearby. Somehow, they hadn’t had very big reactions. Not to be conceited, but Peter was sure they’d be at least a bit more shocked with more yelling accompanied along with it. Yet, Steve was sporting a supportive smile, and Tony at least didn’t seem angry. This could mean they were doing what they could as to not provoke a fight, or…?
“Did you guys know?” Peter suddenly blurted out, tilting a head at his Dads. “Did I make it that obvious?”
Steve rubbed the back of his head somewhat sheepishly, giving a small shrug. “Wade came to us around August last year to ask permission. And we gave it to him, of course, even with a few bumps in the road.” He nudged Tony’s side, who looked away with an indignant silence.
Peter gaped at Wade, who looked all too happy by the attention to be embarrassed in the slightest. His surprise eventually melted back away into a grin. His hand settled over his fiance’s,- that felt great to say - squeezing lightly. Wade was a disgustingly sweet romantic. Peter was glad he’d already discussed it with his parents, saving them the awkward confrontation that could possibly come along with confessing such a thing right then.
“This is very great news. Congratulations.” Thor clasped a heavy hand on Peter’s shoulder, making him jump in surprise, his attention being stolen from the somewhat intimate moment with Wade. He gave Thor an appreciative look, patting the large hand that drowned out his arm.
“I’m glad for the both of you.” Natasha confirmed as well, creating a chorus of congratulations among the heroes. A blush had neatly settled over Peter’s cheeks, though he didn’t mind the embarrassing attention. It was great to be in a room with them, talking like a family again. He’d missed it.
--
“Another miracle story this evening. The story of how Tony Stark’s son returned to life. This one is a big one, too. You definitely won’t want to miss the details.”
Peter was surprised to find a cold beer shoved in his face, the bottle rolling into his slender fingers as they wrapped casually around the neck. He moved his gaze up to Tony’s face, even more so shocked to see the overprotective parent offering him alcohol.
“Happy 21st birthday, since we missed it.” Tony grunted, moving to sit on the loveseat opposite of Peter. He handed his own beer over to Steve, who opened it for him routinely without so much as a thought before passing it back. Peter followed suit, cracking the lid open with his bare hands as if it weren’t even there. “We didn’t get to celebrate properly, and I doubt you spent that night falling on your ass alone.”
Peter’s eyes softened, ignoring the repulsive smell that was even more pungent due to his heightened senses. He glanced back at the frosted bottle, almost hesitant to put the glass to his lips. “I have to admit.” He started, laughing lightly as he looked back at his fathers. “This isn’t my first drink.”
“Yeah, Wanda told us that a while ago. We’ll talk about your punishment later.” Tony smirked, taking a swig. “If you don’t want it, it’s fine. Just figured you’d need something to make it through them butchering your cover story.”
“You’re what’s going to mess it up.” Natasha pointedly looked back at the Stark, folding her arms. “At least you’d taken an hour off drinking beforehand. Seriously, you can’t do a press statement about your supposedly dead son tipsy and acting like you don’t care about anything.”
“That’s the charm.” Tony clicked his tongue, though the news story returning to the TV screen the small group was gathered around cut him off.
”Peter Parker, the adopted son of the head of Stark Industries and famous superhero, Tony Stark, gave his life 7 months ago in an attempt to save the lives of others. The man supposedly ran into this burning mansion when firefighters were struggling to save the owner stuck on the top floor. This man, Jamison Morre, unfortunately passed away in the fire as well. However, this case was investigated further upon when details about this case were uncovered by police in the 15th Precinct alongside the help of an anonymous source.”
“Anonymous source?” Clint mused. “A friend of yours, Tony?”
“Peter’s, actually.”
Peter shrugged, sitting back to sink into the couch. The beer was already empty, resting idly by his foot on the floor. “It pays to know other vigilantes that have an in with the cops. Which I, of course, don’t.”
”...past discoveries lead police to believe that Morre was involved in human trafficking throughout Hell’s Kitchen, stemming from his Manhattan home. When remains were unable to be identified as belonging to Peter specifically, police began to search the home for any possible signs of Peter even dying.”
“Please tell me you guys didn’t get some random ashs and told it was mine.”
“I didn’t want you haunting the house, anyways.”
“Ssh.”
“‘...a tunnel, located in the basement of the house, leading to the outside. We believe as many as 12 slaves were held captive in the home at the time of the fire, and lead downstairs by an associate of Morre. Peter may have been taken during this time, and forced out along with the other slaves, who we are unable to locate, or identify, at this moment.’
“How did you guys figure this out?” Clint leaned forward, looking intrigued by the lucky coincidence. “You saw the slaves?”
“Weren’t any there.” Peter explained, only half interested in seeing their painted lie up on the screen. While he had been wholeheartedly against going public with his return, Steve had reminded him of the family he left behind, and the publicity surrounding the Avengers already. Peter wouldn’t even be able to leave the house without getting caught in someone’s camera, and it was bound to end up back with his aunt. “But every rich guy keeps a secret. I just had to ask Daredevil to find a connection back to this guy. Turned out to be a real scumbag, too. Part of a gang he was already working on. All he had to do was figure out the patterns of the exchanges, then sneak me in to make it convincing.”
”Police had already been working on a sting to end this string of kidnapping, and found Peter miraculously alive, along with 20 others, last week.”
The cell phone video playing under the reporter’s words made each of them at least a bit uncomfortable. In the distance was a group of young adults covered in dirt and blankets, being helped to police cars and escorted to an ambulance if required. Peter was drawn into one of the furthest cars, being driven by Mahoney.
“Peter was reunited with his father, as well as the other victims of this unfortunate situation. Tony Stark delivered a statement on the situation earlier this week.”
“Oh boy.” Natasha commented dryly. “Can’t wait.”
”’I am very glad to have my son back in my home and alive. I would like to offer sympathy to all of the other parents affected alongside me, and to the kids that were part of this with my son. I’ll have him back in school next week because education matters, and I hope you all have a good night. Godbless America and our policemen and women.’”
An audible groan was elicited from Natasha, Clint being too busy laughing his ass off to care. Meanwhile, Tony was busy looking amused by his own behavior, offering a shrug. “I told them I didn’t make TV appearances without backup dancers.”
“I guess I wasn’t enough of a reason to try.” Peter shook his head, standing up as he offered to take Tony’s beer bottle back to the recycling bin. “Anyways, it all worked out. Tony was more like… a finishing touch to the story. And I’m officially alive, and I guess getting educated soon, so everything is okay now.”
“As long as you keep your room clean and don’t try to sneak off anymore.” Steve reminded, and it was Peter’s turn to groan from the kitchen.
“Yeah, yeah. Parent duties. Got it. Being 21 doesn’t excuse me.” Peter reappeared in the front room a second later, reclaiming his spot on the couch. “Anyways, Aunt May’s coming by for dinner again, Nat, so make sure you keep the others in check.”
“Right.” Natasha pushed herself to standing, unfurling her arms to stretch. “You focus on making yourself look more exhausted than you always do.” He flashed her a smile in reply, her and Clint clearing the room and leaving the family alone. There was a gentle silence that relaxed over the living room, though it didn’t entirely feel awkward. Just comfortable. Normal.
“That was smart of you, to figure this out. We should thank Daredevil later. Properly.” Steve added in his praising tone, talking in the way that all parents did at times, when they acted as if their child waking up that morning was a huge accomplishment. “A bit dramatic. But smart.”
“Glad to have those good ideas home, kiddo.” Tony nodded his agreement, his arms crossing over his chest as he rested back against Steve’s side.
Peter was glad to see the intimacy returning between the both of them. He had noticed quickly that they seemed to have a great barrier dividing them, and they didn’t seem to touch, or interact, much anymore. The simple act set his own heart alight, and he found a sweet smile spreading over his lips out of sheer happiness to have them back in his life. He had missed this, all of this, and the fact that he believed he’d never retrieve this 3 weeks ago had killed him. But now Harry was in SHIELD’s hands hopefully getting treatment, he was engaged to the man he’d fallen for, his parents were as doting (and nagging) as ever, and he’d somehow managed to snag his Aunt back in all of this.
He sent a silent ‘sorry’ up to Betty for getting her caught up in all of this, though he planned to give her a much more heartfelt apology when visiting her grave the next day.
“Hey, Peter? Thinking about something?”
The brunette was reeled from his thoughts back to the world when he finally glanced up and met the two gazes on him.
“Just.. glad to be alive again.” Peter breathed. He let the tension leave his body for possibly the first time since that day, sinking into the pillows that surrounded him. He felt safe. He felt happy. And most of all, he felt loved. “Happy to be home.”
“Yeah.” Tony agreed, a matching smile slinking onto his face. Steve massaged his arm gently, his eyes closing in satisfaction from the atmosphere. “We’re happy about it, too.”