No One, Till There’s Someone

by LadyPostal

Summary:

It’s been four days since he became an Avenger, four days since Thanos snapped, four days since he and Nebula were left stranded in space, four days since he lost Tony, four days since Earth’s Mightiest Heroes lost.

He wouldn’t consider himself mighty, not then, not now.

Or…

Peter doesn't get blipped, but Tony does. Where does he go from there?

Chapter 1

Notes:

⚠️THIS IS A MATURE ASS BOOK⚠️
There will be mentions of death, suicidal thoughts, tendencies, and idealization. Self harm (in more ways than what’s commonly known), PTSD, panic attacks, blood, gore, drugs, abuse (mentally, physically, verbally), torture, unspecified eating disorders/problems, alcohol use (over and under age), child loss, sickness/illness, depressive themes, misunderstandings that may cause cringing, and sexual content and themes.
⚠️I WILL NOT HAVE WARNINGS⚠️
This is the only warning I will give, if the book becomes too much, then please don’t read it anymore, I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable or upset. Treat this like a regular published book, they don’t give warnings before chapters, only before the entirety of the book.
⚠️ITS NOT JUST A SAD BOOK⚠️
I will make sure there’s a healthy balance between good times and bad times in this book, so don’t worry. There’s some funny moments too, so have fun with that if you wish.
⚠️YALL SAW THE RATING FOR THIS BOOK⚠️
I wasn’t able to fit all the things to look out for in this book in the tags because I only had so much room, but I did a warning in the beginning of this note. Again, if it’s too much, please leave this book. To those that might get upset with me… I did warn you so. PLEASE READ THISSSSSS NOTE‼️‼️ IF YOU DONT LIKE ANY ASPECT OF THIS FANFIC, THEN LEAVE IT. DON’T LEAVE COMMENTS ABOUT HOW YOU DONT LIKE IT, I HONESTLY DO NOT CARE, YOU ALL HAVE YOUR PREFERENCES THAT YOURE ENTITLED TO‼️‼️ READ THE TAGS AND THIS NOTE, PEOPLE‼️‼️‼️
I say this with love and kindness❤️
⚠️ENJOY THIS BOOK⚠️
It’s my blood, sweat, and tears :)

Floating endlessly in space was something Peter never would’ve imagined he’d experience. The stars were all around, the planets looking like they should be held by something visible so Peter wouldn’t feel so nauseated by the sight of it. Like an illusion he can’t escape. 

 

He’s never seen a sight as beautiful, as wicked as this. He would’ve found it extremely cool that he’d get such a front row view if it weren’t for the why he was able to see it. 

 

It’s been four days since he became an Avenger, four days since Thanos snapped, four days since he and Nebula were left stranded on Titan, four days since he lost Tony, four days since Earth’s Mightiest Heroes lost. 

 

He wouldn’t consider himself mighty, not then, not now. 

 

He sighed quietly as he sat against a metal wall, cool to the touch. He didn’t find relief in that, it felt more sickly than it would’ve on any other day. He looked down at his borrowed shirt and pants, Nebula said it was Quill’s and it felt wrong to wear a dead man’s clothes. 

 

He didn’t even really know Quill or why he thought Missouri wasn’t on Earth, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth. 

 

He and Nebula tried to fix and maintain the ship as best they could with limited resources. He tried to make as much small talk as he could, but she wasn’t entertaining him. He felt bad but it helped distract him from thinking about that day. It felt forced and he couldn’t help but agree with Nebula’s silent sentiments to just shut up. 

 

He didn’t have the energy, anyways. 

 

On some occasions she’d speak to him, and he felt himself gain a little hope as she no longer regarded him as something smaller than a pest. If they’re going to die up here together, might as well make it manageable, right? 

 

“We gained three extra days of oxygen.” Nebula spoke in a way that sounded like she was constantly trying to hide. Low and monotone. 

 

“Is there anything else to fix?” Peter needed something to do, something to take his mind off everything. 

 

Is May even alive? Ned? MJ? 

 

He didn’t want to spiral, it wasn’t the time. And what better way to postpone that than to keep himself busy? 

 

Nebula took a small dagger out of its sheath and started to pick at her metal fingers. “No.” He recalls when the two of them reversed the ion charges on the fuel cells about an hour after Thanos did what he promised. He patched up the oxygen tanks, he got the electricity to start working again.  

 

It managed to get them out of Titan’s atmosphere for a number of hours, but now? They just continued to float in nothingness. 

 

Peter turned away from her and stared back into space. The digital clock near him told him how many days it’s been, when Nebula’s friends got it from Earth was still unknown. It looks ancient too. Probably from the 80’s. He doesn’t remember hearing anything about aliens truly visiting Earth from before 2012 but whatever. 

 

He was a human that got powers from a spider. 

 

He’s pretty sure there could be aliens that can shapeshift, why not? 

 

“Did you know them?” Peter mumbled, but with nothing but silence around them, it sounded like he was yelling. “I mean, did you know them well?” 

 

Nebula stared at him, her black eyes unblinking. Finally, she spoke. “Quill was an idiot… but my sister loved him.” 

 

Peter could say the same for Quill. The way the man raged at Thanos showed no less than pure love. 

 

“What he did was foolish.” She continued. “We would’ve had a better chance if he wasn’t an imbecile and kept his emotions in check.” She put her dagger away, looking away from the teenager. “Problems arise from feeling.” 

 

Peter didn’t say anything, just reeling in Nebula’s words. Quill reacted out of grief and anger, something Peter could recognize like the back is his hand. He’s still not sure how Thanos killed his daughter, and he’s not sure if he wants to know. He remembers Nebula talking to Quill about Thanos returning with a stone but not Gamora. 

 

Was it a sacrifice? Peter didn’t want to ask. 

 

How would he react if someone killed the love of his life? 

 

He wasn’t sure as he hasn’t met her yet.

 

“Emotions can be tricky like that, I suppose.” He said after a moment of silence. “Sometimes I wish I couldn’t feel.” He confessed as he stared at the wall across from him. The hopelessness he feels when he has moments where he believes Spider-Man isn’t making a difference, the loneliness when he remembers his uncle, the guilt when he hears his aunt cry over her deceased husband, the despair as Tony turned to dust in his arms. “Other times, I’m glad I can.” Peace when he’s with his friends, relaxation when he and his aunt watch movies together, content when he has dinner with Tony and Pepper and it feels normal, the excitement when he finally became an Avenger. “Just being a human.” He hummed. His eyes trailed up the wall until it moved to his left, making contact with Nebula’s onyx ones. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” 

 

“Sounds exhausting.” 

 

Peter huffed out a laugh, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. “It is when you lock yourself up and hide.” 

 

---

 

“I do not understand this game.” 

 

“It’s not rocket science.” Peter laughed, forming his hand to be the shape of scissors while Nebula held her hand flat. “Scissors beat paper because scissors can cut paper, see?” He moved to put Nebula’s hand in between his pointer and middle fingers and chomped down. “I win.” Again.

 

“Now what?” Nebula didn’t move her hand out of Peter’s hold, looking far more confused than this game was worth. “I lost, do you cut off my fingers now?” 

 

“No, no,” Peter let go of Nebula’s hand, fighting another laugh. He didn’t want to upset her. “Sometimes you play the game to settle disagreements or just because you’re bored.” 

 

“We’ve played for the past fifteen minutes, boredom must be home to you.” Nebula dropped her hand and scooted a little bit away from Peter. But she didn’t leave, and Peter counted that as a plus. 

 

“Sometimes.” He couldn’t even count the number of times he drifted off into la la land at school. The school was designed to challenge already incredibly intelligent individuals but it wasn’t stimulating for Peter. A lot of the content the teachers went over was either stuff he’s already taught himself or concepts he could easily wrap his head around within a matter of minutes. 

 

His grades were stellar, he’s already been talked to by his principal on multiple occasions about early graduation and college applications but he wanted to finish school with the people he started with, especially Ned and MJ. 

 

He and Ned have had this plan where they’d walk out of those school doors for the last time ever and they’d both get into MIT, be roommates, and battle each other for valedictorian. 

 

MJ joined in on these plans last year when she finally acknowledged that she and the boys were friends. She quickly won the argument that she’d be top of their class. 

 

But did that even matter now? He was certain that half—if not more—of his classmates were gone now. Ned and MJ might've died that day, all plans and dreams could be gone. He was sure he might join them in a few days, weeks if he and Nebula got lucky. 

 

And that’s without the guarantee of a random asteroid colliding into them. 

 

“It was fun teaching you a new game, highlight of the week.” He held out his fist, arm out straight. He recently taught Nebula about fist bumping and the meaning behind it. While she grasped the concept easily, she still was confused on why it had to be a fist bump that symbolizes friendship (the fact that she willingly fists bumps him is another win for Peter).

 

She slowly raised her own fist and lightly tapped it against his. After a moment, she let her arm drop and got up off the floor. “Earthlings.” She mumbled as she walked away from Peter. 

 

He let his own arm drop and his eyes followed the moment, noticing how thin it looked. Bone was jutting out of his wrists more than it usually does and he felt a small ounce of defeat climb up the back of his neck. They’ve been stranded in space for almost ten days now, he started to tally the wall to keep track. 

 

Luckily the digital clock that’s too old to still be working helps him out. 

 

Food and water was already pretty scarce when the two of them started their journey back to Earth. 

 

Hopeless journey, Peter would think from time to time. He didn’t mean to be so pessimistic but it was hard not to be when the odds weren’t in his favor. 

 

They both try to distribute evenly between themselves, eating once a day to stretch it out, but was it even worth it? Would he rather die from hunger or lack of air? 

 

At least with hunger, the pains would go away before he drifts off. 

 

Lack of oxygen just seems torturous. 

 

His stomach growled loudly and Peter hoped Nebula didn’t hear. She might not show it, but Peter knows that she cares for things. Peter just hopes she’s starting to care for him as he already cares for her. 

 

---

 

“Was he your father?” 

 

The question makes him freeze. It was unexpected, not a question Peter would anticipate Nebula to ask. It’s been thirteen days and Peter’s now just starting to think that the lack of food, water, and air supply were finally making him hallucinate. 

 

But as Nebula stared at him expectedly, he unfortunately realized he wasn’t. 

 

“Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat. “He—ya know…” 

 

“You’re bad at this.” 

 

“Could be worse.” He licked his dry lips and tried to come up with a response that basically said yes but no. “I met him when I was fourteen, almost fifteen, and he dragged me to Germany, a country on Earth, to help him fight against some of his teammates.” 

 

“Thrilling.” 

 

Peter nodded. “It was.” His chest started to ache as he recalled his time in Europe. While it was great getting a new suit and being able to show off what he was able to do, it was overall bittersweet. “They had a disagreement and I wasn’t truly filled in on why I was fighting, but Tony Stark needed my help and he is, or I guess he was, my hero, so—I—you know, went over and helped.” He shrugged, messing around with some wires. 

 

He was hoping he and Nebula were within Earth’s satellite and if he messed around with the control panels wires, he could hopefully fix it to perform somewhat okay and send an SOS signal and hope that someone would see. 

 

But so far, everything seems to be fried. 

 

He’s worked with fried wires before. But he also had tools to aid him. 

 

He doesn’t have much now. 

 

“Do you now know why they fought?” 

 

“Now? Yeah, I kind of snuck a peek at Mr. Stark’s files and maybe hacked into his AI.” He might’ve felt bad about going behind Mr. Stark’s back thirteen days ago, but now, he’s not sure if guilt was in the cards anymore. He felt he had the right to know why he was in Germany and fighting against half of his heroes. 

 

“You’re intelligent.” Nebula hummed as she looked out towards space. It was the first real compliment he got from her and he cherished it. Though their situation was not ideal, he was happy to have finally made a friend. “No wonder you’re tolerable.” A pause. “At best.” 

 

Peter laughed and he tinkered around more with the panel, putting the flashlight back in his mouth as he pushed himself under it. 

 

---

 

“I’m scared.” He whispered on the fifteenth day. 

 

Nebula stood in the cockpit, not bothering to look his way. Peter was curled up in a warm shirt. Quill’s closet slowly became Peter’s and he felt so ashamed. These weren’t his clothes, he shouldn’t have put them on.

 

Not like the man was here to say anything about it. 

 

“Foods almost out.” Nebula said after a minute of silence, sounding completely unbothered by that fact. She reached to grab something that Peter couldn’t see. When she turned toward him, he finally saw it. “Eat it.” 

 

She held the packaged food out to him but he had no strength to grab it. 

 

“Peter, eat it.” She gently smacked him across the face with it and continued to hold it out towards him. 

 

“You need to eat too.” He said, pushing the package back towards her. It wouldn’t be right to eat more than her. 

 

“I’m not the one who looks like death is my friend.” She rebutted, throwing the packaged food at him. It fell between his legs and his chest. “I’ve told you I don’t need as much as others.” 

 

“It’s still not right.” Peter whispered. He couldn’t eat it, even knowing that she doesn’t require to eat five times a day (much less twice). 

 

Growing up, even with Ben and May working full time, it was hard to get by. After he was thrusted into their care, it was hard for them to keep up with their bills; commitments. 

 

All because they had a kid to care for. 

 

Buying him food, clothes, shoes, and books was already too much, forget about dental, hospital, or optical visits. 

 

So, he tried to lessen their expenses by lying to them about lunch money, book fairs, field trips. He never took leftovers to school to eat for lunch. He’d save that for dinner, less to worry about. 

 

After he got bit by that spider, he needed to have at least five full meals to even think about going about his day like a normal person. He was able to get by with three meals. 

 

But then Ben died, and Peter really could not afford to be selfish with food, especially when they both depended on May’s salary. He shared with her routinely, brushing her off and telling her that he wasn’t hungry so she’d have the bigger portion. 

 

He wouldn’t eat unless she ate. 

 

When she found out he was Spider-Man, she had lots of words for him. He got grounded, he was given a curfew, he had to check in by the hour, and after she gave him the lecture of a lifetime, she demanded to know everything. 

 

He couldn’t not tell her about how much food he actually needs in a day. 

 

From that point on, May always made sure he had high protein snacks to eat throughout the day and when it was breakfast or dinner time, she always made extra “by accident”. 

 

He knew her games. 

 

But now, sitting here with the packaged food in his lap, all those old feelings and memories came back. He could not eat if Nebula isn’t. 

 

He tried to stand up, black spots clouded his vision and a slight ringing was heard. He placed his hand on the wall and tried to not bend it in a desperate attempt to not fall over. But soon, it all went away. His vision cleared and the ringing was gone. He staggered over to Nebula and opened the package and split the food in half, making sure to give her the slightly bigger half. 

 

Hopefully she won’t notice. 

 

“Please, eat with me.” These past couple days, he couldn’t stop whispering. It felt right. 

 

Nebula gave a stiff nod before gently taking the food from his hand and had a few bites. He scarfed his down faster than he should’ve. 

 

Somehow, Nebula was full after a few bites and threw the rest of it at Peter. While he might be malnourished, hazy from dwindling oxygen, and dehydrated, his reflexes didn’t fail him. He managed to catch the food one handed, tired eyes never leaving Nebula’s. 

 

“Shouldn’t waste it.” She walked away from him. 

 

---

 

Nineteen days and Peter’s sure he’s never smelled so bad in his life. He wonders if Nebula can smell because if she could, he’s surprised as to why she can stand so close to him. 

 

Maybe she’s smelled worse things. 

 

Food has finally run out, and water wasn’t too far behind. While he was able to save three extra days of oxygen, time was running out. Today is the first of the three. 

 

He shakily holds his nano-tech Spider-Man helmet in his hands, staring at the white eyes. He lightly traced the web designs and wondered if he should make a video for those who could’ve possibly survived. 

 

Seems like a last resort and Peter's sudden sprout of stubbornness is not helping his case. He knows he probably should, just in case the video was able to reach Earth. He’ll be dead by the time they find them, he’s sure. 

 

He shakes his head and puts the helmet down. His sighs deeply and tears are suddenly stinging his eyes. He and Nebula only have a number of days left and he just doesn’t want to go. 

 

He’s sixteen, he doesn’t want to die. Not like this. In the middle of the cosmos with a high chance of never being found by the people he wants. 

 

He digs the palms of his hands into his eyes, clenching his teeth. Acceptance would be a great thing to feel right now, and while part of him does feel that plague his bones, the other—the kid, the hero, the fight in him refuses to give in. 

 

As if there’s anything more he could do. 

 

Tears slide past his hands and he struggles to keep his breathing in check. He doesn’t want to concern Nebula. Not that she’d ever let him see that. 

 

But he feels something cool grasp his shoulder and moves his head away from his hands and stares up at the blue woman. If he hadn’t spent almost three weeks with her, he wouldn’t have been able to read past her blank expression. 

 

But now, all he can see is understanding, pity (which he’d rather not have but whatever), and worry. 

 

Huh, guess she will let him see. 

 

He didn’t make a move to get closer to her, even if he craved a hug. Nebula was going out of her comfort zone to try to console some random teenager, a hand on the shoulder works just fine. 

 

---

 

“It feels like we’re not even moving.” Peter mumbled from where he sat in the co-pilot's chair. “Like we’re just suspended in the air, never changing view.” 

 

Nebula slowly nodded, sitting in the pilot's seat. “It does.” 

 

“The control panel is working.” Peter knew he sounded dazed, like he was in between being awake and being asleep. He was so hungry that the pains finally stopped, so thirsty that he didn’t even realize it anymore. Oxygen was more than halfway gone. Delirious. “We just can’t connect with anyone.” After working with the fried wires and the busted controls for a number of hours, Peter was finally able to get it to light up, to do some of what it should. 

 

His main concern was making sure it could track anyone that could help. 

 

“We’re too far out of range from anyone’s satellites or radars.” Nebula sounded as she usually did. Monotone, hopeless, quiet. He wonders how different she would’ve been if Thanos never existed. Maybe happier. Enjoying life. She wouldn’t have met her sister. But then she wouldn’t have to grieve her. 

 

Pros and cons, Peter thinks. 

 

He’d probably be enjoying his summer with friends right now if Thanos never existed. Lab days with Tony, getting the insider scoop from Pepper. 

 

Spending time with May, watching movies, trying to stop fires in the kitchen, taking walks in the park as they recall their day. 

 

Being a better Spider-Man…

 

Peter heaves another sigh, something he’s been doing a lot lately. 

 

It’s the second day of three. 

 

Day twenty.

 

Oxygen runs out tomorrow. 

 

He moves his eyes to stare at the Spider-Man helmet. While the ship was on and able to diffuse oxygen, the motors and engines were shot after they left Titan’s atmosphere. He’s spent countless hours—days—trying to restore the ion charge. But each attempt was a bigger disappointment than the last. 

 

He tried to ask Nebula about it, holding onto some hope that it was just alien mechanics and that’s why he couldn’t get it, but they both knew that wasn’t the reason. 

 

But the ship was on. 

 

Even though its hum was getting quieter with each hour. 

 

If he could connect the helmet with the control panels wires, he’d either risk blowing a fuse and the oxygen diffuser shuts down and the lights blow out, or he’d successfully record a message for someone to watch at some point. 

 

YOLO.

 

---

 

An hour later, Peter was sitting in front of his helmet, wearing a different outfit that belonged to Quill. 

 

He couldn’t find it in himself to look into a mirror, he already knew the sight wouldn’t be pretty. 

 

Enhanced teenager that needs more nutrients than the normal human looking like a walking corpse that looks three weeks past its due date all because his body can’t handle not having food for a few days. 

 

He hopes whoever finds this message doesn’t mind too much. 

 

He leans forward and taps the helmet and a blue glow landed over him. “Karen?” He called out hopefully. “Are you there?” 

 

“I’m here, Peter.” Her calm voice instantly warms him like a cookie straight out of the oven usually does.

 

“I’ve missed you.” He leaned his elbows on his knees and stared into Spider-Man’s eyes. 

 

“I’ve missed you too, Peter.” While she was an AI, Karen sounded so genuine, so real. It’s like she’s well aware of the situation and the sadness is there. 

 

“There’s something I need you to do for me…” he licks his lips and struggles to find the words. Somehow saying it makes it feel more real than thinking it. “I don’t think Nebula and I will survive after tomorrow and… and I just—I just want to leave something behind.” 

 

“Sure thing.” Karen sounded like she was smiling. Peter likes to think she often would if she were human. “A video recording of sorts.” 

 

“Yes, yes, exactly,” he nods and rubs his eyes. He opens his eyes as the blue hue turns green. 

 

Karen’s voice somehow became softer. “Whenever you’re ready, Peter.” 

 

Peter clears his throat and tries his best to sit up straight, trying to look more confident than he feels. “I’m ready.” There’s no indication that Karen started to record, no ding one would hear from a phone, no color change in the hue. 

 

So, Peter just dove right in. 

 

“Alright. Um, I’m hoping that this message will find the right audience. I'm not even sure if or when this would be found but… I hope soon. Aunt May, if you’re out there, I love you so much. I miss you so much and I…” he feels the back of his throat constrict. “I’m trying to come back home to you, but...” 

 

He blinks to stop the sudden flood of tears from descending down his cheeks. 

 

“It is currently day… twenty.” His head feels fuzzy. “I… I, uh, I don’t think I’ll be making it home.” His voice catches in his throat and a tear slips down his face. “I’m sorry.” He whispers as more tears fall. “I’m so sorry. I failed, we lost. I tried so hard, we all did. And Mr. Stark was amazing, he put up such a kick ass fight, it was incredible.” A sob escaped and he no longer cared about putting up a brave face. 

 

He was sixteen years old and he’s going to die in the middle of nowhere. 

 

At least he wasn’t alone. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He took some deep breaths and tried to pull himself together. He couldn’t afford to lose it now, not when this message is super important. “Karen, please edit that part out,” Peter wiped his eyes and tried to look like he wasn’t just crying. “No one needs to see that.” He whispered. 

 

“No problem, Peter.” 

 

He cleared his throat and tried to take it from the top. “Day twenty, it’s just Nebula and I now. We run out of oxygen tomorrow, food and water have already run out but we did good, I think.” He tried to sound chipper, like he accepted his fate. 

 

Part of him has. 

 

Another part refuses. 

 

“Nebula’s fun, I taught her how to play rock, paper, scissors. I don’t think she understands the game yet.” He laughed. “She’s nice in her own way and we talk about small things, like her sister and Mr. Stark…” Peter trailed off, gnawing on his bottom lip. He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes again, getting rid of the last bit of tears that still remained. “Ms. Potts… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save him.” He whispered. “Mr. Stark was incredible, he was awesome,” Peter let out a watery laugh, looking up at the ceiling of the ship, hearing its low hum. “I hope you’re out there.” 

 

He looked back at his Spider-Man mask, not knowing what the people on the other side would see. Will they see a brave teenager? Or a weak one? 

 

“Aunt May, I’m sorry that I’ll be leaving you alone. You don’t deserve to go through this and I’m so sorry.” He’s never felt so remorseful in his life. A lone tear escaped his eye and traveled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away. “Happy, if you’re alive, please look after May, she’ll need you so much.” He cleared his throat. “Ned, MJ, I’m sorry that I won’t see our plans through… I’m so sorry guys.” 

 

He took a deep breath, one that he feels will be his last. 

 

“Thank you all for everything you’ve done for me, I love all of you.” He tried to smile, but he’s pretty sure it looks more like a grimace. 

 

“End recording.” The green light turns to blue once again. “Just… Karen, are you able to pick up any satellites or radars or…?” Something.

 

“My sensors are not detecting any of the sort, Peter.” Karen sounded so dejected, he’s not sure how an AI could but Tony made her, so…

 

He closed his eyes, a strong wave of defeat washing over him once more. Quietly, he said, “Shut down, Karen.” 

 

The blue light faded until all the light that was left was from the space outside and the fading overhead lights of the ship. Power was almost out. He turned his head to see Nebula leaning against a wall, looking at him. “We’re going to die.” He whispered, tears returning again but this time, he didn’t stop them from falling. 

 

Nebula slowly made her way over to him and sat down next to him. “Sweet dreams, Peter.” 

 

He leaned his head against her shoulder and closed his eyes. He felt her lean her head into his too and he was happy in the fact that she feels comfortable enough with him to show such actions of affection. 

 

Sweet dreams. 

Chapter 2

“Kid?” 

 

He felt rough hands grip his arms and shake him a bit. A groan involuntarily fell from his lips at the sudden rude awkwaning. 

 

“Kid, you with me?” 

 

“Mr. Stark…?” Peter wasn’t sure why he asked for his mentor (father figure?), he clearly remembers him dying in Peter’s arms. 

 

“Careful with him.” Came a dull voice, one he instantly knew to be Nebula. “Don’t be rough.” 

 

Slowly, Peter pried his eyes open and saw a blurry figure in front of him. Blinking his eyes a few times, the blurriness went away and the figure in front of him turned out to be a blonde man that was a picture perfect example of how most men in the 1940’s looked. Peter could smell the aftershave. 

 

“Cap… Merica…?” Peter weakly reached up to take Steve’s hands off of him, the grip felt too tight. “What—?” 

 

“Come on, Queens, let’s get you out of here.” Steve gently gripped his arms once more and slowly hauled the teen to his feet. Peter didn’t question the nickname. 

 

If Peter could see himself from someone else’s eyes, he’s pretty sure his already pale face would look like the color of snow. His stomach did twists and turns, his head suddenly felt so heavy that it dropped against his chest, his vision completely gone and Steve’s voice was muffled. 

 

He felt another pair of hands grab him, and he wasn’t sure if he was moving or standing still. 

 

He got his answer a few seconds later as his vision cleared, he gained some control over his head and looked around. 

 

Nebula was staring at him near the exit of the ship, looking somewhat awkward, like she wasn’t sure what to do. He’s never seen that uncertainty in her. 

 

Steve was still holding him and looking sympathetic. But looking to his left, he saw a man he hadn't seen since a month before Thanos because he was overseas in Iran. 

 

“Rhodey…” Peter’s voice broke and he would’ve been embarrassed, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. “Am I dead?” He whispered. “Did you guys die, too?” 

 

“No, Pete, none of us are dead.” Rhodey gently patted Peter on the back. “But let’s get you off this ship, yeah?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Peter weakly nodded, trying to walk as best he could but it was hard when two men practically picked him up off the floor. He couldn’t find it in him to care about that either. 

 

Getting to the exit, he saw that the ramp was very steep and he had half a mind to be nervous about potentially slipping. But as they finally made their way out, Peter immediately took a deep breath in, closing his eyes as he was able to actually breathe. 

 

He wasn’t sure how long he had his eyes closed for, but by the time he reopened them, the only thing below his feet was grass. Sweet grass. Peter wanted to cry over that alone. 

 

“Set him down gently,” he heard Rhodey tell Steve. “I don't want him to buckle.” 

 

“I won’t.” He rasped out, and almost cried as he felt the Earth under his feet once more. It felt like an eternity since he was last on the green grass. Rhodey still had a hand on his shoulder and he relished in that weight. Making Nebula his new friend was a great way to defeat the loneliness, but she didn’t give out free hugs. 

 

But after a minute, Peter felt his knees go weak on him once again and Rhodey was there to catch him. “Lean on me, okay?” The man gently spoke, wrapping Peter’s arm over his shoulders. “I got you.” 

 

They started to slowly walk away from the ship and after a moment, Peter noticed the lack of one Steve Rogers. He turned his head and saw Steve standing with his back facing the teen, staring up at the ship as if hoping someone else would walk out. 

 

Peter’s heart seized and he, too, wishes someone else would walk out. Someone who died on Titan in his arms. His eyes started to burn once more but this time, Peter wasn’t sure if it was because of the sudden rush of sweet, sweet oxygen, exhaustion, or tears. 

 

Rhodey must’ve heard him sniffle because the man held onto him tighter and started to whisper words of encouragement, the compound doors weren’t too far now. 

 

But a few people were standing in between him and the doors and there was only one that he focused on. Her hair was loose and she was dressed comfortably, and she looked clean. Peter hopes to be clean soon. But her face looked so heartbroken, so lost. 

 

As he and Rhodey got closer to Pepper, she walked the remainder of the way and soon held Peter in her arms. He collapsed against her and breathed in her signature lavender perfume. His arm slowly slipped from around Rhodey’s shoulders and just became limp as Pepper ran her fingers through his greasy hair. 

 

How she could stand the smell of him is a mystery. 

 

Distantly, he heard himself mumble to her, “I’m so sorry.” Over and over again and he couldn’t stop. She had to know how sorry he was for not being able to bring her fiancé home. But she just kept shushing him, holding him tightly.

 

“Peter, shh.” She mumbled against his head as he hid his face in the crook of her neck. “Not your fault.” 

 

Peter let out an especially loud sob, his tears hot as they traveled down his cheeks and stained Pepper’s cardigan. “I lost—”

 

“Queens,” 

 

Peter turned his head and stared at Steve, subconsciously letting Pepper handle his full weight. 

 

“We lost.” 

 

Peter shut his eyes, and accidentally passed out in Pepper’s arms. 

 

---

 

Pepper sat in the chair beside Peter’s recovery bed. He looks so… skinny. Bones jutted out of places they usually wouldn’t. His wrists, cheekbones, ribs, elbows, chin. Even in sleep, he looks exhausted, haunted. 

 

“How’s he doing?” 

 

Pepper turned her head to stare at Rhodey, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. She wonders if the smell of antiseptic also caused him to suddenly feel more awake. She turned back to stare at the unconscious boy. “His wounds usually heal themselves within a day at the longest,” she mumbles as she puts her hand to his forehead, pushing dirty hair off his forehead. “He’s been stranded for twenty days and they still look like he just got them.” 

 

“He’s home now, Pepper.” Rhodey walked into the room and put a hand on her shoulder. She leaned into the touch and felt her heart constrict in her chest. 

 

“But Tony isn’t.” She quietly squeaks out as she clenches her eyes shut, trying so hard to stop the tears from falling down her face. “He always comes back.” She sniffed. “Afghanistan, in 2012, the whole Mandarin fiasco…” she hung her head, clenching her hands together. “He was supposed to come back.” 

 

All Rhodey did was squeeze her shoulder as Pepper quietly wept.  

 

---

 

Peter sat in a wheelchair around a table with the remaining Avengers and company in a conference room of sorts. He was hooked up to a vital signs monitor that held his saline bag. 

 

He hates it. 

 

Pepper sits besides him, holding his wrist. He didn’t feel like holding anyone’s hand. He felt so small sitting while the others stood, still looking like death while they’re all healed up. He didn’t try to sit up straight, to “look polite”. He was tired. He just wanted to go back to sleep. 

 

“It’s been twenty two days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodey began and Peter felt irritation swell up inside of him. Weren’t they all there? Why did they need to recap on the event they all lived through? 

 

“World governments are in pieces,” Natasha continued, and Peter really wishes he could’ve met her before disaster struck. But then again, he would’ve fanboyed so hard she probably would’ve avoided him. “The parts that are still working are trying to take a census. And it looks like Thanos did…” Peter didn't miss the way the words caught in her throat, the struggle to continue like nothing was wrong. “He did exactly what he said he was going to do.” 

 

Peter looked away from Natasha and stared at the faces of those who were dusted. A few he did not know. A few he did. 

 

Tony’s face stared back at his. 

 

Peter looked down at his shaking hands. Recently, Peter found himself unable to stop them from moving like they had a mind of their own. He met with Dr. Helen Cho when he first woke up and when she asked about his hands, he just didn’t know how to explain why they kept shaking. 

 

Trauma, she told him, was a possibility.

 

Looking back up, May’s face took the place of some random girl from California. Any last hope he had was crushed. He didn’t have anyone else. He’s still a minor, the state will put him into the system and he’ll never live his normal again. 

 

What about Ned and MJ, he hasn’t seen their faces pop up yet. If he still had his friends, then life would be bearable. But a dark whisper in the back of his mind keeps telling him that they’re gone and there’s nothing he could do to fix it. 

 

His vitals on the machine started to pick up a little and he tried so hard to keep calm. Pepper’s hand tightened around his wrist and she softly ran her thumb over his skin. No one else seemed to notice. 

 

“Where is he now?” Peter let the question fall from his lips. Everyone turned to give him their attention. “He went through a portal…” he suddenly felt like throwing up. “We couldn’t…” stop him.  

 

“That’s what he did back in Wakanda.” Steve answered, leaning upon a table, his arms crossed over his chest. Peter did not like the look of defeat the war hero had. “Opened a portal and walked through, we don’t know where he is now.” 

 

Some strange sense of relief flooded through Peter. He couldn’t face that madman again, if he wasn’t able to win last time, he’d be absolutely demolished the next time. He’d gladly sit out that fight. 

 

But another part of him was so disappointed. He had hoped that the Avengers would prevail where he couldn’t. If he couldn’t stop Thanos, the others would for sure. But they didn’t, and that means Thanos still lives, knowing what he did and having no remorse. 

 

Shame was the next emotion that Peter could easily recognize. All he ever wanted to do was help people because he had the ability to, because it was the right thing to do. No one told him to become a hero, he chose that line of work. Someone had to stand up and that’s what he did. Not wanting to fight the monster that caused all this devastation and pain was like Peter saying he didn’t care about the little guy anymore, he didn’t care if they lived or died, if they got home to a family or not. 

 

It feels like Peter was turning on himself, in a way. 

 

Peter’s eyes moved on their own accord as movement caught his attention. Thor was sitting far away from everyone, alone on a bench and looked to be lost in his head, and if he met Thor on any other day, he would’ve exploded because holy crap it's freaking Thor! “Is he okay?” Were any of them? 

 

“Oh, he’s pissed.” Some raccoon said to him. Peter stared dumbfounded, freaking out a little bit. He thought the raccoon was a stuffed animal that someone (for whatever reason) had. “He thinks he’s failed.” Peter could relate. “Which of course, he did, but you know there’s a lot going around, ain’t there?” 

 

Peter just continued to stare, not sure what facial expression he was making. His brain was suddenly silent. Finally, he spoke. “Until just now, I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” Hopefully the raccoon didn’t take offense. 

 

“Maybe I am.” Mumbled the animal. 

 

“That’s what I thought, too…” Peter’s eyes snapped towards where the voice came from and saw Dr. Bruce freaking Banner holy shit. Seriously, why did he have to meet his heroes through this horrible situation?

 

“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now.” Steve interrupted, getting up off the table and walking a little closer to Peter. “Deep space scans, and satellites, and we got nothing.” Peter saw the way others around the room started to look more grim than he previously thought possible, some nodding in confirmation to what Steve said. “You fought him.” 

 

That felt like a slap to the face. 

 

Would Peter say he fought the Titan? More like Thanos took him into an alley and shanked him. Peter felt his breathing speed up a little and he distantly heard his monitor spike a bit more. “Who told you that?” He croaked, feeling his face grow a bit warm. “I didn’t fight him, no, he choke slammed me, threw me away like I was a bag of trash he was trying to get into a dumpster, and launched moons at us.” 

 

His monitor kept spiking, getting louder, and he’s pretty sure Rhodey was making his way over to him. He could feel Pepper’s hand move to his shoulder, gripping it tightly. He closed his eyes and tried to take a long, deep breath but he realized with a panic that the darkness reminded him too much of space, how it was so dark up there, how he was never going to make it home, he’s going to die and he jostled a little bit in his wheelchair, eyes snapping open again. 

 

“Mr. Stark fought him,” He whispered, gripping his hands together tightly to stop shaking. “He was the brave one, he was… he — oh god.” Peter dropped his head forward, trying to make all the eyes disappear from off him, raising a weak hand to rub his forehead. He felt a different hand drop on his head, and while the hands felt nice, they also felt wrong. 

 

“You don’t have to explain.” He heard Rhodey mumble to him but Peter shook his head. His eyes met Steve’s again. 

 

“Dr. Strange fought him,” he didn’t care that no one but Bruce knew who that was. “Nebula,” Peter saw her shift to attention. “Fought him. These… galactic heroes fought him. Not me.” 

 

Steve’s face softened and he knelt in front of the teen, looking at him the way many did at Uncle Ben’s funeral. He feels anger swell in his chest. “We saw the footage from your helmet while you were in recovery,” Steve began and for some reason, Peter felt embarrassment mingle with the anger. “We saw that you got the gauntlet off.” 

 

Peter remembers that. He kept pulling, even when Mr. Stark left to push Quill away from Thanos because he was jeopardizing the plan. He pulled hard, desperation and adrenaline ran through his veins because so much was at stake then. 

 

He did get it off. He just wasn’t fast enough to get it out of Thanos’ reach. 

 

“And what you saw…” Peter licked his lips, his shaky hands pointing at Steve. “You consider a fight?” 

 

“We do.” Some woman in the room responded. 

 

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, what is your name?” Even though Peter feels like absolute rubbish right now, in the midst of a panic attack, he can’t not be polite. “I'm Peter Parker.” 

 

The woman smirked, and her stiff form melted into a more relaxed one. “Carol Danvers. I brought you back.” 

 

That was something Peter didn’t know. All he knew was that he passed out on the ship, left the ship with Steve and Rhodey, collapsed in Pepper’s arms, woke up and was told that he needed to meet with the others. 

 

He didn’t really want to think of the how or why he’s still alive and on Earth. 

 

“Oh, oh, uh, thank you.” Peter nodded, a tight smile on his lips. He felt awkward, Steve still kneeling in front of him, Rhodey and Pepper hovering, everyone else watching. 

 

“Queens, I need you to focus.” Steve looked like he meant business and Peter had half a mind to tell him to fuck off because what does he mean focus? Peter just got back from what he believed was a one way trip, on the verge of dying from starvation or suffocation (whichever happened first), only to learn that most of everyone he knows and loves are now gone, and Steve Rogers is telling him to focus? “Did he leave any clues? Coordinates?” 

 

“No.” Peter wasn’t one to just snap at people, but he feels it’s well deserved, for both himself and Steve because how dare Steve tell him to focus. “No, he’s psychotic, deranged, insane — whatever synonym you wanna use, but he’s not stupid.” Peter thinks of all the stories Nebula was willing to share, how her father had unhinged opinions and ideas, but they were well thought out and how he never lost. “He left nothing.”

 

Steve sighed and rose back to his full height, walking away from him and staring at the ever changing faces of those who were taken. Natasha put a hand in his bicep but otherwise stayed still. 

 

“Peter, please…” Pepper whispers, moving to stand behind his wheelchair while Rhodey grabs his monitor. Pepper looked up to address everyone in the room. “He just needs some rest—”

 

“No, no, I don’t need rest.” He really does, he’s tired, but he’s getting mad again. He doesn’t usually, and it feels foreign but he just can’t push it down. “I need—” Mr. Stark, Aunt May, Ned, MJ, Thanos to be gone. “I need to shower, yeah.” He starts to push himself out of his wheelchair, but both Pepper and Rhodey try to stop him. 

 

“No, Pete, sit back down.” Rhodey has never talked to him like a teacher would talk to a misbehaving student, and while he’ll feel offended later, it’s only frustration (and panic) now. 

 

“No, no, stop it.” Peter shook their hands off him. He ripped his IV out of the crook of his elbow and the electrodes off his chest. His vital monitor let out a high pitched screech as it detected no heartbeat and he imagined, just for a second, what it’d be like to throw it across the room to get it to stop. He ignored the mild protests from the others and walked over to Steve. “Sorry, Captain America, I have nothing for you. No coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Nothing.” 

 

“Peter.” 

 

The teen in question didn’t register that Pepper called his name, all he could really hear was his own heartbeat (and all of theirs). It was beating fast, and the blood rushing through his entire body was trying to keep up. He looked over to Carol and pointed. “You-you saved me. That’s great, awesome, thank you,” he didn’t decipher her worried expression, his breathing was erratic but he just didn’t care. “The Avengers would be great with you on the team.” Peter turned back to Steve, resisting the urge to hit him. 

 

Peter felt a shiver run up his back that someone was behind him and about to strike, but he paid no mind. Rhodey’s hand gripped the back of Peter’s neck like he were a cat and tried to drag him back to his wheelchair but Peter instinctively stuck to the floor and Rhodey grunted at the unexpected immovability. 

 

“Here’s an idea: find your shield, the one you used to almost kill Mr. Stark, and hide.” That’s all Peter wants to do now. He wants to hide, he doesn’t want to deal with his current reality. Rhodey keeps trying to pull him, but Peter’s not budging. His feet are stuck in place and his upper body remains unmoving like he was a wall. “You—” Peter huffs out, his vision blurry and his chest heaving. “Hide.” 

 

He doesn’t remember falling to the floor, or recalling why he kept saying he was fine as two people crowded him, but all that awaited him was darkness. 

 

---

 

Steve leaned down towards the kid, Spider-Man, to help pick him up off the floor but Pepper rushed forward and gave him a hard stare. “No, you stay where you are.” 

 

“What was he talking about, man?” Rhodey pushed the wheelchair over and helped Pepper pick Peter up. “You almost killed Tony?” 

 

Many of the others in the room waited, watching Steve. The man in question felt at a loss. He never told anyone about what happened in Siberia, but he never ever considered killing Tony. 

 

No matter their differences, they were friends. 

 

“No, I—” Steve sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “He was going to actually kill Bucky… he’s my friend, I couldn’t—” Steve felt himself choking up at the mention of his best friend, his best friend that he lost again. “It was just to neutralize the suit, to get him to back off.” 

 

“You’re the one that damaged his arc reactor?” Pepper breathes, looking two seconds away from lunging at him. 

 

Guess Tony didn’t tell anyone about what happened either. Then how’d Peter know?

 

“Unless Siberia has warmed up since the last time I've been on Earth, you took out the one thing to not only keep the man warm, but to get him home.” Carol propped a hand on her hip, looking indifferent. Steve found small comfort in that. Carol didn’t know him, she didn’t know Tony. It was nice to not see an opinion. Find your shield, the one you used to almost kill Mr. Stark. 

 

He almost killed Tony by leaving him. 

 

“You know what? It doesn’t matter anymore.” Pepper snapped as she put Peter IV back in his arm. “We have way bigger issues to settle, we don’t need to be talking about something that happened years ago.” She put herself behind Peter’s wheelchair and gave him a small glare. “You shouldn’t have gotten him worked up.” With that, Pepper turned and wheeled the unconscious boy back to his room. 

 

It was silent for a while, nobody knowing what to really do now. They were absolutely clueless. Should they go out and do recon? Make sure important information of those who got dusted doesn’t get stolen or leaked? Consoling? Keep trying to track down Thanos? 

 

Natasha nor Bruce say anything more, only giving him brief smiles before they walk out of the room together. He didn’t follow, he felt his shoulders sag and weariness creeped up his bones. 

 

Rocket (he just learned his name a few hours ago) and Nebula (learned her name recently too) walked over to Thor, seemingly the most comfortable with the silent god. Steve was grateful for it, he’s not sure he’d be able to take any smart-ass remark from the talking raccoon. 

 

Carol left at some point, he doesn’t really recall. By the time he even notices, he’s sitting at a table, watching the faces change over and over, their names, age, and where they lived under their picture. Rhodey is at the same table as him, leaning back in his chair like he’s in some boring class that he’d love to leave. 

 

“Rhodey—”

 

“Pepper’s right.” The military pilot interrupted. “It happened years ago, Tony didn’t come out unscathed, but he was alive, so…” Rhodey shrugged, looking worn out. “There's nothing to do about it now. Besides, you could say we got bigger fish to fry.” 

 

Steve smirked. “Most definitely.”

 

They both got silent once more, somber. Steve’s lost count of how many peoples faces have passed, lost count of the time all together. Before he could stop himself, he said, “You know Spider-Man.” 

 

“Yeah, Peter.” Rhodey nodded, a smile forming. “Officially met him when I returned home from a UN meeting and found him rummaging through Tony’s fridge.” He suddenly chuckled, as if that was a funny memory. “He was super nervous, overly polite, charismatic, but, damn, the way his intelligence rivals Tony’s is unbelievable.” He leaned back in his chair farther, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s a… better mannered Tony.” 

 

“He’s a good kid.” Steve could remember technically meeting Spider-Man in Germany about two years ago. He seemed really excited and Steve saw great potential in the young hero. Too bad he dropped an airplane gangway on him. “Just a kid…” it would be hypocritical of him to get upset at Spider-Man over that fact. Steve fought guys twice his size and he had asthma and a whole list of other issues. 

 

Spider-Man has powers; abilities that make it safer to do what he does. But then again, the world and their enemies have changed. 

 

Rhodey’s fond smile dropped but he nodded, a sad look crossed his face. “He's been through a lot.” Rhodey’s dark eyes met Steve’s light ones. “We just have to look out for him, it’s what Tony would want.” 

 

Steve held out a hand, a friendly smile on his face. Hopefully Rhodey will understand that this handshake is also a white flag, bygones be bygones, a cease fire for any of their past and the hurt they placed on one another. “For Tony.”

 

Rhodey firmly clasped his hand with Steve’s, and according to the knowing look on his face, Rhodey understands perfectly what this handshake means. “For Peter.” 

Chapter 3

Notes:

Update: just wanted to write a reminder that we should all be kind! Yes, this story follows the same plot as many other “Tony gets blipped, Peter doesn’t” fics but that’s essentially it.
Everyone who’s written these types of fics come up with amazing ideas for how they want Peter’s life to turn out and they’re all so different from one another, it’s great!
That’s the same case with this story! Peter’s life is going to be unique to how I see it playing out and that’s what makes all these fics so different from one another.
So let’s just remember to be kind and just bare with the authors of these kinds of fics when the story literally just began, okay?
I appreciate each and every one of you that reads it, kudos, bookmarks, or comments!💕
And remember! This is just for fun! It’s never serious!😉

Next time he wakes, Peter learns that Thanos was found. 

 

But the stones were gone. 

 

For some reason, he isn’t surprised. Thanos fought hard to ensure his vision becomes a reality, there’s no way he’d leave a way to fix it. The heroes had lost, the villain had won. Thor had apparently decapitated the madman, and Peter just felt nothing. 

 

The Infinity Stones could do so much, all the power, the ability, nothing could match those little rock’s. 

 

They lost. 

 

Pepper sits beside his bed and hands him a glass of water. His hands still shake.

 

“What now?” His voice is scratchy. Do they just move on with their lives? Is that the only thing to do? 

 

“I…” Not much of anything catches Pepper off guard, makes her hesitate or lose her voice. But the world was in chaos, her fiancé is dead, and Peter could see that she didn't know what to say to a boy who almost died. “Stark Industries is currently sending out emails to our shareholders, marketers, clients in general and just trying to get a rein on everything.” Pepper tucks some hair behind her ear and stares into Peter’s brown eyes. “The company itself isn’t crumbling, it’s just the matter of the people. Trying to see who’s still here and isn’t.” 

 

“Makes sense.” And it really does. Peter can’t even begin to think how hectic and stressful it would be to be in Pepper’s shoes right now. He, of course, knows that being the CEO of any company comes with its many pros and cons, but in a world crisis? No thanks. “Will… will you…?” 

 

Pepper could take a gamble on what Peter is asking and win. “Will I tell the public about Tony? Have a funeral?”

 

Peter nodded, refusing to meet her eyes. 

 

“At some point.” Pepper softly answers, pulling at the thread of her cardigan. It was her mothers, a long time ago. “When things settle down a bit more.” She’ll write a statement, possibly call a board meeting. This next topic was something she wasn’t sure she should have with Peter quite yet. But then, would there ever be a good time? “I’m sorry about May, Peter.” 

 

All he did was nod, still looking down at his shaking hands. Just another one of them gone. First his parents, Uncle Ben, now May. He was truly the last one left. Logically, he already was by blood. But with marriage combined, it was him and May. It made living easier to know that he still had someone. 

 

“I’ve been thinking.” Pepper began slowly, anticipation rising. “How would you feel to live with me? I could be your guardian, make things easier for you.” 

 

Before she could even blink, Peter was shaking his head, looking shocked. “Oh, no, Ms. Potts, you don’t need to do that!”  

 

She reached to hold Peter’s hand, rubbing her thumb over his boney knuckles. “No, honey, I want to.” She’s always enjoyed Peter's company, watching the boy grow more comfortable around her and Tony and break out of his shell. She saw so much of Tony in the boy, so much of herself too. It was incredible how this teenage boy came into her life just about a year ago, and he already has her wrapped around his finger. “We all need someone,” Pepper whispered as she patted his hand. “You have me, and I have you.” 

 

She felt Peter squeeze her hand back, but he still looked uncertain. He felt uncertain. “I don't want to trouble you.” He could find a way to get out of the system before he turns eighteen, get himself a nice job and apartment, finish high school (he might take up the early graduation offer if Ned and MJ aren’t around). 

 

“You could never be trouble to me.” Pepper truly means it. Peter would be a piece of cake, especially since she had to deal with Tony Stark since their early twenties when she first got the assistant position. It was unbelievable how it took almost two decades for them to get together. “I care about you and it would just break my heart to lose you.” She raked her unoccupied hand through her hair. “You don’t have to take up my offer, of course, but-”

 

Peter pulled her forward by her hand and wrapped his arms around her, his head resting on her shoulder. Pepper immediately recuperated the action and held him close, like a mother would her child. She felt wetness on her shoulder and realized that Peter was crying in her arms again. She tightened her hold on him. 

 

Peter was tired of crying, he feels like that’s all he’s been doing since Thanos snapped. But to know that he still has someone, an adult, that cares for him and won’t push him away is relieving on a completely different level. “Thank you.” He choked out, trying but failing to stop the tears. 

 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Pepper responded. They didn’t let go of one another, it felt like hours had passed as Peter tried to calm down and take deep breaths, his monitor spiked just a tad as he tried to catch the reins of his emotions. 

 

He fell asleep in her arms. 

 

---

 

Peter folded his dirty clothes and put them on the bedside table in his recovery room. He finally had his shower and while he knew it was pointless to fold his dirty shirt and sweatpants, he figured it was nicer than someone picking them up off the bathroom floor. 

 

While he was in the bathroom, he finally took a good long look at himself and he was someone he couldn’t recognize. Sunken cheeks, bruises under his eyes, his hair was slightly longer but seemed dead. 

 

He looked bad. 

 

 Pepper had told him that he’d have to stay at the compound for another week, just to ensure that everything looked alright with him. His hands still shook, he still couldn’t close his eyes for long without thinking of being stuck in that spaceship. His stomach has shrunk a significant amount so he’s been only able to finish half a baked potato or a bit of oatmeal.

 

Just as he was making his bed, he heard someone’s heartbeat get louder and louder as they made their way to Peter's room. He didn’t bother turning around when they got to his door. “It’s open, Happy.” He said, relishing in the hesitation the man showed on the other side of the door. Happy doesn’t usually hesitate. 

 

“Hey, kid.” The man greeted as he stepped into Peter’s room. He watched as Peter fluffed the recovery bed pillows. “You know you don’t have to do that. We’ll just throw everything in the wash.” 

 

“I know,” Peter said, stepping away from the made bed and looking Happy, a small smile on his face. “But I just thought it’d be nice.” 

 

Happy nodded and sat down in one of the chairs, rubbing a hand down his beard. He sighed. “How are you holding up?”

 

Peter shrugged, not knowing if he should sit or remain standing. How was he feeling? Clean. Lost. Scared. But he wouldn’t tell Happy that. 

 

“I took the liberty of grabbing yours and May’s things.” At that, Peter looked at Happy, slightly surprised. Why? 

 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Happy really didn’t. 

 

Happy returned the smile Peter gave him a little bit ago. “I wanted to. It’s all in the tower.” 

 

“The tower?” Tony sold that awhile ago, did he buy it back and Peter just didn’t realize? Did Pepper? “How-”

 

“Pulled a few strings.”

 

“Vague.” 

 

“Not for you to know.” Happy shrugged, the bantering between the two came with ease, just as it was with Tony. Peter would usually keep it going but he could sense Happy’s heart wasn’t in it either. Would it always be like this? Peter hoped not. 

 

“Did you lose anyone else?” Peter sat down in the other chair and picked at his clean shirt. Someone other than Tony? 

 

Happy didn't answer right away, just sat still. Peter fought the urge to bounce his foot. “I suppose I’m luckier than others,” Happy began. “I wasn’t close to the Avengers like Tony was. But I am with Rhodey and Pepper.” Happy shook his head. “So, no, I didn’t lose anyone else.” 

 

Peter felt jealous of the man for a split second. He only lost one person because of what Thanos did. Happy never mentions any other family; parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents. Did Happy lose them a long time ago? Was there a falling out? Did Happy even know them? 

 

Peter knew his family, the family that was all dead now. His grandparents passed a few years before his birth, he never had any aunts or uncles on his mothers side. His parents died in an airplane crash when he was four, his uncle on his fathers side, the man who raised him, was shot when Peter was fourteen and left his wife, May, to pick up the pieces. Then, Peter met Tony, the man who helped and shaped him into a better hero than he previously was. The man who Peter was seeing as a father because of how caring he was, how he nurtured Peter with tough love. He is gone now. May was dusted too, leaving him alone as the last Parker.

 

Was Happy the last Hogan? 

 

Peter couldn’t ask a question like that, that was too personal and it was way too soon based on current events. But at least there was a possibility Ned and MJ were alive. He doesn’t have his phone, probably left it on the bus. Part of him is glad, he wouldn’t have the courage to call them and see the possible outcome. He could always ask FRIDAY or even Happy. 

 

But he’s too scared. 

 

“You okay, kid?” Happy reached over and out a hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving it a slight shake. “Your hands are quivering.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, uh,” Peter let out an awkward laugh. “They have been since before…” before he arrived on Earth. 

 

“Nerve damage?” Happy hums. 

 

Peter shook his head. Thank god, no. “Dr. Cho said something about trauma.” He reached to scratch behind his ear. “I… don’t really remember that conversation.” His voice turned aloft and Peter tried not to think of stars (stars being a trigger for him is so disappointing) and vast darkness never coming home, dying, dying, alone, cold, never coming home, never, alone, dying, never-

 

Happy hummed again and kept his hand on Peter’s shoulder, gripping it a bit. The boy inhaled sharply and tried to use the weight of Happy’s hand on his shoulder to ground him, to calm down, to relax. He tried to even his breathing and somehow the shaking in his hands got worse. 

 

“You’re okay,” he heard Happy tell him and he felt himself nod in agreement. “You’re okay.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, I-I’m okay.” His voice wavered. He reached for his bedside table, a glass of fresh water was placed there before his shower and he gulped it down like he hasn’t had water in forever (for a while, it had been forever). 

 

After a moment, he felt his breathing return to normal and his super shaky hands went back to normal shaky. He placed the glass back down on the table and relished in the silence between him and Happy (besides the heartbeats, the blood rushing through their bodies, and the occasional click that emanated from Happy’s jaw as he breathed). 

 

“I’m sorry.” Peter said at last. “I don’t know-”

 

“It’s okay.” 

 

They went back to their silence and Happy finally withdrew his hand off Peter’s shoulder. Happy must’ve been gripping hard because Peter’s shoulder ached a little. 

 

Finally, Peter asked the question he was most dreading. “FRIDAY, could…” he suddenly lost all confidence and certainty in not only himself, but the answer to his question. Wouldn’t it be better to not know? 

 

“Yes, Peter?” The AI prompted. 

 

“Could you look up-or just… is Edward Leeds from Queens… is he alive?” Happy frowned as the kid struggled to ask the question. “Or… Michelle Jones-Watson? Are they-are they okay?”

 

FRIDAY’s answer was instantaneous. “I am not able to locate Edward Leeds or Michelle Jones-Watson. Sources show from the recent census that both were part of the majority to be killed.” 

 

Looks like the little voice in the back of his head was right. Peter slumped against his chair and stared at the made bed, not sure what to think now. Was he even thinking? He had prepared himself to expect the likelihood that neither survived. 

 

He was right on the mark. 

 

Parker Luck strikes again. 

 

---

 

The week passed by rather quickly. Pepper had kept him up to date with what Stark Industries has done to make things easier for lots of people. Homeless shelters, food drives, charities, the whole shabang. Lots of kids were left orphans and were placed in a displacement home where social services came into play and took over. 

 

Peter was glad.

 

The remaining heroes all had their own agendas and Peter didn’t get to say goodbye to many of them. He figured that was ok, he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle a lecture about being too young and inexperienced to be a hero. Word from Rhodey told him that no one was thrilled about a sixteen year old kid fighting crime but, what could they do? 

 

Peter looked better than he did a week ago, healthier, he gained some of his weight back, his eye bags were still prominent but better. He felt better. He and Pepper had just arrived at the tower a few hours after Peter was discharged and started to sort through boxes that Happy grabbed from his and May’s apartment. Dennis, the landlord, was still kicking and was grabbing tenants left and right. All the belongings of those who got dusted ended up in storage units that Dennis rented and Peter was glad Happy went in when he did. Those storage units get raided on a nightly basis, and that was before people got desperate.  

 

“We could keep May’s things here.” Pepper says as she moves a small box of jewelry. “I’m sure Happy told you that we signed a contract with the new owner of the tower, he was happy to let us rent a floor.” 

 

Oh. So that's what Happy meant. “Eh, not really. He was acting like me knowing would corrupt the government.” 

 

Pepper chuckled as she grabbed a box that had Peter’s name on it. She put it next to the other few boxes that belonged to him while Peter was still working through May’s “important” box. Taxes, birth certificates, passports, etc. He didn’t know what to do with half of that stuff. May doesn’t need it anymore, do they keep it? Burn it? 

 

He placed it in his “uncertain” pile and kept digging through the box. He saw old letters from his parents, one pearl necklace (not sure who that belonged to, May never wore pearls and Peter couldn’t remember if his mom did), and two wedding bands. 

 

May and Ben’s. 

 

Peter picked them up and held them like they were the most delicate things on Earth. Ben’s gold band shined like it was never worn and May’s still held every little diamond it was made with. 

 

They both took great care of their rings. May finally took hers off a few months ago. 

 

He always admired May’s. It was simple but beautiful. May would always say how ugly the new, bulky wedding rings are and how glad she was that Ben decided to give her something that wasn’t pretentious. 

 

“Those are beautiful.” Peter nodded in agreement. Pepper walked over to him, her lavender perfume powerful but not nauseating. “We could get them clean, if you’d like.” 

 

“Thank you.” He was honestly just going to keep them in a drawer, safe and tucked away. Too bad he didn’t have his parents' wedding bands. Would’ve been nice to have something from them. 

 

An hour later, all of Peter’s belongings were separated from May’s, and whatever he wanted to keep from her boxes were set aside. May’s things would remain at the tower, safe, and Peter wouldn’t have to worry about it. 

 

Small mercies. 

 

“I was doing some thinking,” Pepper began as they made their way over to the elevator, both deciding to get some lunch. Peter learned over the past year of getting to know Pepper that whenever she did some thinking, it wasn’t something to disappoint. “What if we moved outside of the city? I found this beautiful log cabin that rests along a lake and we’d be half an hour away from the city.” 

 

“A cabin in the woods?” He watched that movie and he still couldn’t get over how much the main character looked like Thor. “That sounds… nice, actually.” It really did, movie reference aside. He was so used to the loudness of the city that with his super hearing, it sometimes hurt. But it also settled some anxiety in his chest. What if he was needed right away and he didn’t get back fast enough? Sure he was a fast runner, even faster swinger, but all the doubts and the what ifs didn’t leave. 

 

“Really? Oh, Pete, you’ll love it. It’s got four bedrooms, three baths, and the lake is just amazing.” Pepper sounded excited and that made Peter happy. He hasn’t smiled a real, happy smile quite yet, he’s only been back from space for eight days now, the shaking of his hands were still there, and he was still struggling but it helped to have Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. At least he wasn’t completely alone. 

 

Pepper’s phone went off and she frowned as she checked it. Peter didn’t tempt to look at whatever kind of message she got, that was rude. So he waited patiently, maybe she’ll tell him, maybe she won’t. 

 

“FRIDAY doesn’t run the tower anymore,” Pepper started to explain. “But Tony,” she hesitated. “Put her in my phone, incase of emergencies. She still has access to the cameras.” She turned her phone around to show Peter surveillance footage of the back of the tower, a young teen was seen knocking and trying to get in. “Looks like we got company.” 

Chapter 4

Peter and Pepper made their way over to the back entrance and Peter’s hearing picked up the voice of the young man, muttering to himself. He sounded frustrated and Peter’s spider sense didn’t go off, so that ruled out potential danger. 

 

How weird was it that the boy just happened to arrive at the tower the same day he and Pepper had. “Convenient.” Peter muttered to himself as he opened the door.

 

The boy turned around and looked surprised, like he couldn’t believe that someone was there at all. “Holy crap,” The boy had a southern drawl and as Peter got an actual good look at him, he looked maybe a year or two younger than Peter. “I didn’t think anyone would be here.” 

 

“Can we help you?” Pepper stepped into the light of the outside world and Peter could see that the boy looked taken aback. Pepper had that effect on people. 

 

“I’m looking for Tony Stark, he knows me.” The boy answered, regaining control of his face. “He landed in my garage a couple years ago, in Tennessee.” 

 

That’s when it clicked for Peter. A while ago, while he and Tony were in the lab, they got on the topic of potatoes and which form of potato was their favorite. Peter honestly couldn’t remember how the conversation started but it ended up with them laughing hard. 

 

Tony then confessed about meeting this kid by breaking into his garage and having, what he called, a potato gun pointed at him. 

 

“You’re Harley Keener.” Peter stepped forward to hold out his hand for Harley to shake. “Hi, I’m Peter Parker.” 

 

“You know my name?” Harley's handshake was a bit flimsy as he stared wide eyed at Peter. 

 

Peter smiled. “Tony mentioned you.” He turned to stare at Pepper, a silent question in his eyes. Pepper amazingly read him like he was a children’s book and stepped aside, ushering the two teenagers in. “He, uh, said you helped him fix his suit.” 

 

“I did.” Harley nodded, sitting down in a chair that the deserted lobby still had (for whatever reason). “I can’t believe he even remembers me.” 

 

“He doesn’t forget easily.” Pepper said gently, sitting across from him on a leather couch. Peter didn't miss how she used present tense. He suddenly felt awkward as he was the only one standing, so he plopped down next to Pepper. “Why are you here, Harley?” 

 

Harley blew a raspberry, rubbing his hands together. Peter could smell the slight sweat of them. “My… sister and mom got Dusted, as the public calls it.” Harley looked around before setting his eyes back on Pepper. “I have no other family ‘sides them and I was hoping that Tony would help me.”

 

Peter felt himself nod because oh boy could he relate. He was lucky to still have Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. Harley, this boy who was younger than Peter, didn’t have anyone.

 

“I’m not asking the man to take me in or anything, but maybe some advice? Not sure if he’s good at that, didn’t seem like it when he was in my garage, but maybe things are different now.”

 

“You flew all the way from Tennessee to get advice?” Pepper crossed her leg over her knee, looking like she was in a meeting even though she was dressed like she was staying in for a movie night. “Harley, honey, how old are you?” 

 

“I’m fourteen.” 

 

“And you were able to fly?” Peter’s never flown before (never mind the flight to Germany, that was private, that doesn't count), but he’s pretty sure minors have to be occupied by an adult to fly. Unless the rules have changed, Peter doesn't keep up with air taxi gossip. 

 

Harley nodded, messing with the zipper of his sweatshirt. “A lot is happening right now.” Duh. “The last thing airlines are worried about is if a kid flies by himself.” Stillness settled over the group, none of them seemed to be breathing. Peter kind of wishes he weren’t. Finally, Harley broke the silence. “He’s not here, is he?” 

 

“No.” Pepper confirmed, twirling her engagement ring around her finger. “No, he isn’t.” 

 

Peter looked down at his shoes, not able to meet either of their eyes. He lost Tony and Pepper will be without a husband. Harley lost the only person he thought could help him. 

 

Why wasn’t he Dusted instead of Tony? Wouldn’t it be better for everyone? Tony would know how to beat Thanos, how to reverse what he did, to bring people back. Pepper wouldn’t feel so incomplete, neither would Rhodey or Happy. 

 

“Crap.” The younger teen slouched in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, obviously disappointed. Peter’s scared to know what Harley’s plan B is (if he even has a plan B). 

 

“I’m sorry.” Peter whispered, feeling like whether Harley knew who he was or not, an apology was warranted. He saw Pepper give him a side eye scolding but he didn’t care. He was sorry, why should he keep silent about that? 

 

“I am too, I didn’t mean to waste your time.” The kid got up off his chair and started to make his way to the back entrance and Peter felt a tug in his chest. He couldn’t just let the kid go.

 

Pepper beat him to the punch. “Wait Harley,” she walked fast to catch up with the boy from Tennessee. “You can’t go back.”

 

Harley shrugged in a way Peter does, when things suck but there wasn’t anything else to say. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

 

“I’d be happy to have you stay with us. Get you enrolled into school,” Pepper continued. Peter smiled at Harley, walking over to join their little group. “Give you a roof over your head.” 

 

“Why? I’m just a kid that Tony met once,” Harley shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know if he’s one to just adopt some random kid.” 

 

“Well,” Pepper propped a hand on her hip. “It’s either us or some other family gets you because the state — New York or Tennessee — isn’t just going to let you wander free.” Pepper reasoned and Peter had to admit, she had him in a corner. Unlike Harley, Peter didn’t see an issue being put in Pepper’s care, he practically already has been since last year, spending every weekend at the compound with her and Tony. But he can understand what Harley must be thinking. To lose his mother and sister, fly from the only home Peter assumes Harley’s ever had, and to stay in a foreign place with people he doesn’t even know? Peter wouldn’t be jumping for joy either. “Not seeing much of an option since you’re still a minor.” 

 

Harley looked at Peter and then back at Pepper, obviously having an internal battle with himself. This is everyone’s new normal. Kids left without parents are rushed into homes or centers, not knowing what’s to become of them. 

 

Either way, Harley’s life has changed. He just had to choose wisely. 

 

---

 

The next few days were hectic, Pepper’s lawyers miraculously didn’t get Dusted (the official term was coined by some senator to describe those who were killed, Peter didn’t pay too much attention to that) so after meeting with her attorney on numerous occasions, all three were able to legally sign the adoption papers. Pepper swore to prioritize their needs over hers, to be their mother if they will be her boys. Afterwards, she sent the papers on through to her lawyers to which they would take care of the rest. 

 

“That was fast.” Peter commented as Pepper slammed two pieces of paper on the kitchen counter of the compound, declaring that those two boys were officially and legally entrusted into Pepper’s care. 

 

“That’s what happens when you got some badass lawyers and attorneys.” Pepper smiled, handing Peter an apple as she heard his stomach growling. “Did you not eat breakfast?” 

 

“Wasn’t hungry then.” Peter shrugged, taking a shaky bite out of his apple. His hands still weren’t back to normal, but they shook less dramatically, so Peter counted that as a win. He looked at Harley and saw that the boy was expressionless, but his eyes betrayed him. “Are you okay?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m good.” The younger teen got off the stool and walked to his temporary room, Peter and Pepper stared after him, even when a door blocked their view. 

 

Peter looked at Pepper worriedly. He was apparently a big brother now, something he’s never been before, he doesn’t know what to do. Pepper took the papers and put them back in their envelopes. “We should frame these.” She mused before putting the envelopes on the counter, looking at Peter reassuringly. “He’ll be okay, this whole process has shaken everyone’s worlds. We just have to… move on. Get back up.” 

 

Peter nodded, cause, yeah, it really has. “I can get back up.” He tried to sound more confident than how he felt. But he knew he could do it, he’s done it before. 

 

When Uncle Ben died in front of him, when Ant Man (RIP) smacked him out of the air, when Toomes dropped a freaking warehouse on him, when Thanos tossed him around like a ragdoll, when he was so sure he was going to die in space, when he learned that he lost majority of everyone he’s known and loved. 

 

He always got back up. 

 

Pepper gave him a soft smile and put her hand on his head. “You already have.” With that, Pepper took the envelopes and walked towards a different hallway. “Make sure you’re packed by tonight, that’s when we’ll be leaving.” Then she was gone. 

 

Peter nodded and threw his apple away before walking to his temporary room. There really isn’t anything to pack besides some clothes and little trinkets Rhodey brought for him to make his stay feel homier. 

 

While he was folding his clothes, he tried to take a mental log of everything that happened since Thanos snapped his fingers: everyone got dusty, he almost died in space, the Infinity Stones were destroyed, he stayed at the compound for a week to recover, schools have been shut down till September, met his new adoptive brother (still so weird), officially Pepper Potts son (does that now make him Peter Potts?), it is now May 22nd and he’s moving to a new house that's outside the city by tonight. 

 

He might have to sit down. 

 

He put all his belongings into a duffel bag and plopped it by the door, turning back to fix his room up as best he could. After he finished, he grabbed his duffel bag and walked back to the kitchen and tossed it on a stool, not sure what to do now. 

 

He looked behind him and stared at Harley’s closed door. Should he leave him be or try to cheer him up? Peter seriously doesn’t know what to do, he’s only ever been an only child, this is brand new territory for him. Would he want someone to talk to? Sure, he’s him. But Harley isn’t him, Harley is a completely different person. 

 

Peter took a chance and walked back into the hallway and knocked softly on the door to ensure he didn’t accidentally put a hole through it. He did that once, May wasn’t happy and neither was the landlord.  

 

“H-hey, Harley,” his voice cracked, immediately clearing his throat. “Can I come in?” 

 

He heard Harley’s heartbeat, heard this weird grinding noise (did Harley grind his teeth?) before Harley acknowledged his presence. “If you want.” 

 

Peter opened the door and saw Harley sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. Like him, Harley didn't have much to pack either. His room wasn’t clean (maybe Peter could help him) and all the lights were on which ow, okay, teach the kid to conserve electricity. “You doing okay?” Peter asked, subtly turning the bedside lamp off and joined Harley on the ground. 

 

Harley shrugged, not meeting Peter’s gaze. “About as okay as the rest of you.” 

 

Peter nodded, not even sure what to say or ask or do. This kid was two years younger than him and is now his younger brother. He’s going to have to be an actual role model now which is so strange. He’d have to actively think about that kind of stuff now. He clasped his shaking hands together, trying to still them as best he could. Maybe he should talk to Dr. Cho before they leave. 

 

“Why do you shake? You got some medical problem?” 

 

Peter stared at Harley, unsure how to even process that question. Totally could’ve been asked differently, but okay. “I’ve had these tremors since… since The Snap.” Could he even lie to Harley now? Pepper knows he’s Spider-Man so she’d be able to cover for him if Harley ever wonders where he is. But would it be worth it to keep the secret? Probably not, since Harley is technically his brother now, it would make sense to have him in the know. 

 

Fuck it. “I, um,” Peter inhaled sharply, trying to not get his anxiety worked up in front of Harley and failing just a tad. “I’ve had these since The Snap because I was—I fought…” Why was this so hard? Maybe because he’s never actually revealed his secret identity before, he realized. Everyone who knows (or knew, in some cases) had found out in ways that Peter had no control over. Tony knew before he even met him, Ned saw him walk across his ceiling, May saw him in the suit, Tony introduced Peter as Spider-Man to Pepper. 

 

This is hard. Like a bandaid, rip it off.

 

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter finally confessed, hearing his voice go up an octave, stupid puberty. “And, I, uh, I went to space and fought T-Thanos and so, yeah, um, that’s why.” There. He did it. Over and done with. Stuttered uncontrollably but he’s proud of himself anyways. 

 

Harley stared at him like he was the best thing to happen since the royal wedding (were Harry and Meghan still around? Peter would need to check up on that). “You can’t be Spider-Man.” 

 

“Ouch.” Peter mumbled before stuffing his shaking hands under his arms since they were practically glued to his sides. “No—no, Harley, I am. I have been since I was fourteen.” 

 

“But you barely look older than me now! You probably looked ten when you first started!” Harley didn’t have to be so loud, but than again, loud was different for Peter versus everyone else. 

 

“Double ouch.” Peter sighed and got up off the floor and stood to his full height of five feet and seven inches. Hopefully puberty will come in clutch for him and make him grow some more. “Look.” Peter raised an arm above his head and jumped, sticking his fingers to the ceiling. The jump alone should’ve clued Harley in, sticking to the ceiling was just for kicks. 

 

“Whoa!” Harley got to his feet and walked a circle around Peter. “Holy crap! No way!” For the first time since Peter met Harley, he saw a real smile grace the younger boy's features. “You’re an Avenger!” 

 

Peter dropped from the ceiling and nodded, his own smile growing. “Pretty cool, huh?” 

 

“Way cool, I have so many questions.” Harley laughed, and Peter couldn’t help but feel his heart swell knowing that Harley feels better, just by the look in his face, anyone would be able to tell. “Holy crap, Spider-Man is my…” and with that, Harley’s smile faded and he even looked somewhat apologetic. “Sorry, I just…” 

 

Peter put his hand on Harley's shoulder, giving the younger boy a nod. “No, it’s okay. It’s… different for me too.” He dropped his hand and started to make Harley’s bed, knowing the medical staff would appreciate it a bit. “I don’t have any siblings so… it’s, uh, almost weird.” 

 

“It’s totally weird.” Harley nodded as he helped Peter clean. “I’ve always been the big brother, never had one. It’s always been Hannah and me.”  

 

“We’ll figure it out as we go.” Peter was sure of it, it’s an adjustment that they’re going to have to live with. So far, they seemed to be on a good start. Hopefully they’ll actually acknowledge each other as brothers by this time next year. “It’ll be fun.” 

 

Harley snorted, but a hopeful and mischievous gleam resided in his eyes. “Like swinging through the city kind of fun?” 

 

Peter chuckled, tossing a dirty pillowcase at Harley to which the boy gave a cry as the fabric covered his head. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

 

---

 

Later that night, Peter stood in front of his new home. Which was weird. He always figured his new home would be some janky apartment when he’s in college, Aunt May scolding him for living in a “rats nest” (the words she said when she saw how dirty his room had become). He never thought he’d live on a lake. 

 

Pepper stood next to him, a hand on his shoulder. “A new start.” 

 

He nodded, turning back to the car to grab his and Harley’s belongings. Happy had flown most of Harley’s things from Tennessee a few days prior and the young teen got to sort through his own boxes, just as Peter and Pepper did before. 

 

Loser. 

 

Peter smiled to himself at his thoughts, grabbing a few boxes that would’ve been too heavy if he weren’t Spider-Man and lugged them to the log cabin. Pepper was right, it was beautiful. The lake was calm as the sun set and Peter breathed in fresh air, so different from the city and space. Peter shook his head before he opened the front door. 

 

“Oh, Peter, honey, two of those boxes are for the kitchen and the other is Harley’s.” Pepper told him as she dropped some boxes on the floor. “Harley, sweetheart,” Pepper yelled outside, giving Peter an apologetic look as he winced at rhe volume. “Pick out your room.” She then looked back at the older teen. “You too, you guys can decide who gets which room.” 

 

“Aren’t they all the same?” Peter knew Pepper would be getting the master bedroom, that one had noticeable differences. 

 

“Well, if you ignore that they have different views, that one room has a slightly bigger square footage and walk-in closet, then yeah, they’re all the same.” Pepper gave him a smirk, like she could read his mind. She probably could, Peter wouldn’t be surprised. 

 

So with that, he dashed up the staircase, leaving Harley in the dust and found the room that was slightly bigger and had a walk-in closet. The view he got was one that scanned the lake, and it was the farthest one down the hall. 

 

“Dibs!” He yelled out as Harley dashed into the room, out of breath. He laughed as Harley glared at him, struggling to get air back in his lungs. 

 

“No fair, you cheated.” Harley accused. 

 

“I didn’t cheat,” Peter smiled innocently. “I just have the natural advantage.” He made a show of comparing their heights. Harley was about average height for a fourteen year old but Peter was still a couple inches taller and had the longer legs. Even still, the spider bite did help things. 

 

“Whatever.” Harley rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, most likely checking out the other bedrooms to see which one he liked. Peter followed and saw Harley laying on the floor of one bedroom like a starfish, staring up at the ceiling. “I like this room.” 

 

“Very nice ceiling.” Peter agreed, not sure if he should question Harley or not. He decided not to and left Harley to help Pepper with the boxes. By the time the moon was high in the sky, all the boxes were unloaded from the truck, their beds were put up and the couch and other big furniture were placed at random throughout the room. Pepper suggested ordering pizza and the boys agreed. She and Harley shared a box while Peter had three of his own. 

 

Harley questioned why, and both he and Pepper responded: “Metabolism.” Harley let the topic drop. They ate in comfortable silence on the floor of the dining room, the only light was a soft yellow from the chandelier above them. 

 

This felt… homey. This felt right. He, Pepper, and Harley. One mess of a family. 

 

“Do I have to go by Harley Potts, now?” 

Notes:

Update: sooo I know that Harley is usually written to be older than Peter, and that was the original idea. But I looked up Harley Keener, saw that he didn’t get blipped (if we wanna use official MCU terms) and that he was 21 (in October of 2023).

And we know that Peter Parker (MCU version) was born August 10, 2001. So if he weren’t blipped, he would’ve been 22 (in October of 2023).

So, just go make things more interesting, instead of an age gap of 1 year (give or take), I made Peter and Harley have a 2 year age gap.

Don’t think too much about it, just thought to clear up some possible confusion that could’ve manifested from this chapter☺️

THANK YOU FOR READING!

UNTIL NEXT TIME!

Chapter 5

Two and a half weeks after they moved was when Natasha dropped by. Peter walked downstairs (after a night of no sleep) to see Pepper and Natasha chatting over tea. He stopped in his tracks and stared wide eyed at the platinum blonde. Her hair grew maybe an inch but the blonde was still there, no sign of red. 

 

“Peter,” Natasha put her cup down and nodded at the teenager. “Nice to finally meet you.” 

 

He just gaped like a fish. They actually met about a month ago when Peter returned with Nebula (who was in the galaxy with Rocket and Carol). She didn’t approach him then and he didn't have the energy to talk to much of anyone during that time. 

 

“Hi, Ms. Romanov Black Widow ma’am.” Peter word vomited and even though he saw a hint of an amused smirk on her lips, he still felt embarrassed. “What-what are you, uh, what can—?” Deja vu. 

 

“I was just stopping by, telling Pepper how nice it would be to train with a fellow spider,” Peter balked, feeling his face heat up a little.  “Since I saw such promise in him.” 

 

“You — wait you want to train? With me?” He couldn’t believe it. Natasha Romanov was in his kitchen, drinking tea with Pepper, wanting to train with him. Ned would lose his mind.

 

“I train you, not with.” She corrected him but Peter didn't care because holy shit it’s Natasha Romanov. This is totally insane. His face must’ve given away what he was thinking because Natasha stood up and walked over to him. “Not many get this chance. We’ll meet every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 11 am to 4 pm.” And with that, she walked out of the house, leaving Peter completely speechless. 

 

After a minute, Pepper chuckled behind her cup and raised an eyebrow expectedly at him. “Some opportunity, huh?” 

 

“What is my life?” Peter still couldn’t believe how much has changed in the course of two months, no scratch that, in the last two years. This was totally insane, literally unbelievable. He might have a heart attack. 

 

“She likes you.” Pepper put her empty cup in the sink, briefly looking up at a picture that was resting along the shelf above the sink. “He’d be excited.” 

 

Peter followed her gaze and saw the photo he and Tony took to show that, yes, he officially has an internship at Stark Industries. The plaque is in his room, hanging up besides all his other achievements and rewards. His own copy of that photo is in a trinket box. 

 

“And nervous.” Pepper added, still not looking at Peter. “He never wanted you to get hurt.” 

 

“She wouldn’t hurt me, would she?” Peter supposes it’s part of training, getting hurt helps one learn. Besides, he’s much more durable than Natasha, whatever hits she throws at him, he’ll be able to brush off. “Like, seriously hurt me?” 

 

“No, but accidents happen.” Pepper finally looked at him and while she wasn’t crying, he could tell she wanted to. “That’s what he’d be nervous about.” She whispered, leaning against the sink. “That’s what I’m nervous of.” 

 

Peter finally moved from where he stood like an idiot moments prior and grabbed Pepper’s elbow, hoping he looked as sincere as he felt. “It’s only training, it’s not like—“  almost being killed by a madman of an alien and left to die in space. “It’s not dangerous. Plus, I heal fast and have my spidey sense.” 

 

“I’ll remember that during your training sessions where you end up on your ass.” Pepper teased before leaving him in the kitchen. 

 

Peter shook his head fondly, reaching into the fridge to grab some apple juice. He’d be fine, Natasha would go easy on him in the beginning. He just knows it. 

 

---

 

She did not go easy on him. 

 

Peter ended up on the floor more times during a day of training than when he’s out fighting crime for a month. 

 

For the next two weeks, Peter and Natasha met up at the compound to train, whether it be boxing, hand-eye coordination, a weird mix of karate and jujitsu, they did it all. While Peter would leave the compound sweating profusely and shaking, he always thought he improved each time. 

 

Until Natasha humbled him. 

 

She would always tell him how he’s advancing with each session but part of him thinks she’s just trying to make him feel better so he keeps coming back. It was fun though, learning new things and hanging out with an Avenger holy shit it’s Natasha Romanov.

 

Nightmares stayed constant, he’d wake up in a sweat and a pounding heart, unable to really breath. His shaky hands would spread up his arms and to his shoulders until his whole body was trembling. He usually isn’t able to fall back to sleep after waking up from nightmares so he busied himself by trying to install Karen and FRIDAY into the house, to make things safer for all of them in case of an emergency, refusing to look outside his window (he sometimes forgets to close his curtains before he falls asleep) as all he’ll see is black, stars, alone, dying, never coming home. He never said a word to anyone. 

 

Within those two weeks, he and Harley have gotten closer, starting to act less unsure around each other and actually joking around and behaving like how brothers usually do. Pepper’s also been a little different, he would see her wring her hands and twiddle her thumbs, lots of thoughts passing through her eyes and Peter tried not to get worried.

 

He thought she’d tell him when she was ready to. So he waited patiently, anxiety spiking in him which made his hands shake even more. He had a few scheduled appointments with Dr. Cho and after finally getting information pried out of him, she diagnosed him with PTSD and gave him some antidepressants, paroxetine, he was told. He remembers looking at her weirdly because he doesn’t think he’s depressed but she assured him that it’s to help with his anxiety and to reduce some symptoms of PTSD depression included. She offered to set up therapy sessions for him to meet up with another trusted doctor but he declined. He’s fine. 

 

The more Peter thinks about that appointment with Dr. Cho, the more he thinks that he’s just being dramatic about this whole thing. Did he really have PTSD? Or was he just being a little silly goose? He didn’t feel like arguing when Dr. Cho is literally a doctor that the Avengers trusted, so he took his pills as scheduled and Pepper would always pat him on the back and thank him. Peter could tell she was worried about him after Dr. Cho talked to her, but she schooled her features immediately and told him that she’d always have his back. 

 

So, as the three ate their dinner (Harley suggested chicken fried steak, “a southern classic” he said), Peter kept sneaking glances at Pepper as Harley asked Peter a whole bunch of questions about being Spider-Man (he never runs out of questions). Peter answered each one as if he wasn’t succumbing to anxiety over Pepper’s obvious change. If Harley suspects anything, he’s very good at not showing it. 

 

Later that night, while Harley was in the shower and Pepper and Peter washed dishes, he decided to bite the bullet. “You're going to rip your lip off.” He hummed, trying to stifle a laugh when Pepper seemed to come back to reality and stopped biting on her lower lip. “What’s going on?” 

 

“Nothing,” Pepper smiled and Peter felt a bit offended that Pepper was lying to his face. “Just wondering about how the school year will be for you boys.” 

 

Peter scrunched his face in confusion? School? But that was months away. “It’s only June.” 

 

Pepper nodded, putting plates away. “Time flies, you know.” 

 

“Pepper.” After a week of first living with the woman, he stopped using formalities as it would just be weird. She was technically his mother now, afterall. Pepper smiled brightly and hugged him when he first called her by her first name. 

 

Pepper sighed, putting her drying rag down and stared out the window that was above the sink, the branches of the trees that were in their front yard moved gently to the wind, the moon shining on the grass. Peter tried not to look for too long. Finally, she spoke. “I didn’t realize…” 

 

Peter waited for her to continue but when she didn’t, he took his hands out of the sink and wiped them dry and turned to fully face her. “Realize what?” A million different thoughts floated through his head of what she could be referring to. Motherhood? How hard life without Tony is? How different life outside the city is?

 

“I’m an older woman, you know?” Pepper ran a hand through her hair and rubbed her forehead. “I thought I wasn’t able to… I haven’t even had any actual symptoms either.” 

 

And that’s when Peter felt like he was slammed by a bus. Was Pepper telling him what he thought she was? “Are you…?” There was no way. No fucking way.

 

“Pregnant? Yeah, I am.” Pepper choked out a watery laugh, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m pregnant with my dead fiancé’s baby.”

 

Holy shit. 

 

Pepper let out a cry and dropped her hand from her forehead to cover her mouth. But the damage was done and she started to silently cry. Peter felt like crying too. Instead, he reached to pull Pepper in for a hug. She comforted him too many times to count, it was his turn. 

 

Pepper gripped his shirt and placed her head on his shoulder, quietly weeping, sniffing here and there. But then that’s when Peter heard it. It was soft, tiny, but there. He started to smile, not sure how he hadn't heard it before now. “It has a strong heart.” Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been this close to Pepper in a while and that’s why he couldn’t hear it until now. But then again, it does take a while for the heartbeat to be detected. 

 

He paid attention in health class. 

 

Pepper pulled away and looked at him like he said some confusing gibberish. “What?” 

 

“The baby’s heart,” he clarified, trying to stop his own tears from dampening his eyes. “I can hear it. It’s strong.” And with that, Pepper started to cry again, holding Peter tighter than before. “We’ll be okay.” He assured her, trying to ignore the window that was right in front of his face that showed nothing. “Harley and I will help you every step of the way. Rhodey and Happy too. Maybe when Natasha.” He was sure Pepper would have all the love and support she deserves and if not, then Peter would make it happen. 

 

“He had a dream about this.” Pepper murmured from his shoulder. She pulled away and wiped her eyes, sitting down at the kitchen counter. “Before… you know…” Peter did know. Before he was whisked away in a flying donut. “He said he had a dream about us having a kid and naming them after my uncle.” She sighed, twirling her engagement ring around her finger. “At the time, I didn’t realize I was pregnant so I shot him down, telling him dreams were just dreams.” She let out a humorless laugh. “I guess I was wrong about that one.” 

 

Peter stayed quiet, still kind of not believing it. Tony Stark, his mentor (father figure? Adoptive dad?) was dead but he’ll be having a baby soon. His first child will be born in a matter of months and Tony won’t be able to see that. 

 

Peter’s heart just keeps on breaking. 

 

“I’m here for you.” Pepper smiled gratefully at Peter and held his hand, giving it a few pats. She didn’t have to say anything, her actions already spoke volumes to Peter. 

 

Everything will be okay. 

 

---

 

Natasha controlled her breathing as she, once again, put the teenage boy on the ground, groaning as he struggled to get up. “I thought you had great reflexes with your sixth sense.” She taunted, waiting for Peter to get back to his feet. “Don’t seem so great to me.” 

 

“I’m a bit tired.” He responded and he did look exhausted, his under eyes look so bruised one would think he has two black eyes. Natasha wasn’t stupid, she knew he was struggling with sleeping and he was put on medication to help with his PTSD (she didn’t have to talk to Dr. Cho to know that little tidbit of information, it was clear just looking at him). But villains weren’t going to let up just because he’s tired, she had to instill that in his head. 

 

But still, maybe she should try something different, something relaxing, something to instill grace and fluidity in his body, to make it look like he’s gliding through a ballroom next time he fights. The best fighters look like they’re not fighting. She dropped her fists and relaxed her stance, relishing in the confusion that melted through Peter’s face. “Are we doing something else?” 

 

“We are.” Natasha nodded, grabbing her gym bag off the bench and tossing Peter his. He caught it like someone threw a tennis ball at him, still looking confused. “We’re going to a dance studio today.” Natasha explained as they walk out of the gym and head for the compound doors that’ll lead them to the outside. “It is absolutely crucial that you learn how to make a battlefield your dance floor. To be swift, agile. Enemies will fear you more.” The Red Room taught her that and it was the only class that she actually enjoyed. 

 

“You… want to teach me how to dance?” Natasha nodded, finding it entertaining that Peter was so lost in how it was important. But it was, and soon he’ll thank her for it. The dance studio wasn’t far from the compound so they walked, enjoying the fresh summer air. The temperature has yet to reach its high and Natasha vaguely wondered if it would be a blistering summer or a cool one. 

 

Once they got to their destination, Natasha led the way in. There was no one at the receptionist desk but there were windows that looked into different studios. One was empty, the light off and looking a bit… dusty, but the other had its lights on and she looked in to see one figure dancing, a girl. She was good, Natasha instantly knew this girl had years of training to look like she was flying through the air, using it to her advantage. It brought back her days of her own training, having the grace of a ballerina but the malice of a jaguar. 

 

She stood there with Peter, trying to hide her smirk as she saw him look at the dancer in awe. “That’s how I want you to look.” She said softly, pointing at the window, the dancer had yet to notice them. “See how she just glides across the floor? She’s lost in her own world, knowing where to go but also has the unpredictability that us, the audience, don’t like.” In general, Natasha loves when the unexpected happens, it keeps things interesting that the spy just gravitates towards. But humans are creatures of habit, humans like to know things before they happen. 

 

The dancer was dressed in a black leotard and tights, teal blue skirt with pointe shoes to match. Natasha noticed how beat up the shoes were and she hoped the girl had other, nicer pairs at home. Her blonde hair was loose and must've been held in a bun if the scattered pins and hair band said anything. Natasha looked back at Peter, who probably hasn't blinked once since he looked into the studio. Natasha smirked. “She’s pretty.” 

 

That shocked Peter out of his stupor, stuttering and blushing, looking back from between the girl and Natasha. “Can we just start the lesson?” He walked away from the window and Natasha quietly chuckled, following the spider teen to an empty studio away from the blonde girl. 

 

---

 

When Peter got home, he saw Harley playing some game on his XBOX in the living room and Pepper was sitting at a little table in the corner of the kitchen, reading a newspaper. Without looking up, she greeted him. “How was training?” 

 

“It was… fun.” Peter grabbed a glass from the cabinet and went to the fridge to fill up his cup with water. “We went to a dance studio.” 

 

That got Pepper’s attention. She put the paper down and had an eyebrow raised. “Oh?” 

 

“She wanted to teach me grace and how to make “my battlefield my dance floor” and, I don’t know, it was different but nice.” Peter joined Pepper at the table, grabbing a banana from the bowl. “No bruises.” He grinned. 

 

“Well that’s good.” Pepper chuckled, turning in her seat to grab her purse that was plopped on the ground beside her chair. “You know I had my appointment today?” 

 

“Oh yeah, how’d that go?” Peter leaned forward in his seat, excited to see the sonograms of the baby who rested in Pepper’s whom. Would he call that little baby his sibling? Brother? Sister? He’s not sure. He doesn’t even call Harley his brother out loud, forget about calling Pepper his mom. He’s not ready for that. 

 

“Great,” Pepper beamed, handing the black and white picture to Peter. “I’m ten weeks.” She then pointed to where the baby’s head was, their toes, and told Peter her expected due date. “I was able to go to Dr. Cho, that woman specializes in everything, I swear.” 

 

Peter hummed in agreement. “It is weird.” He handed the picture back to Pepper, straining to hear the baby’s heartbeat again. The first and only time he was able to hear it was when he was hugging Pepper, and even with his excellent hearing, it was still so muted. Now that he was a table away from Pepper, it might as well be nonexistent. 

 

“Hungry?” Pepper got up from her chair and pulled out her phone, leaning against the cabinet. “Harley, you hungry?” She called out to the living room, to which the young teen declared that he was starved. Pepper chuckled, raising her phone to her ear. “Thai?” 

 

He’d never say no to Thai.

 

---

 

Later that night was when Peter successfully installed FRIDAY and Karen into the lake house. His curtains were shut and he had his lamp on, his nightlight still plugged in. He couldn’t sleep so he resorted to a project he had started working on a little while ago and it was finally complete. 

 

“FRIDAY? You there?” He tested, keeping his voice low just incase.

 

“I’m here, Peter.” Came FRIDAY’s immediate response. “I see you’ve transferred myself and all my data to this new location.” 

 

“Oh, yeah, just…” he licked his lips, not sure why an AI made him nervous. “Just extra security, for all of us.” Plus, when the baby arrives, it’ll be easy to notify any of the three that the baby was in need of something. “Do you feel okay?” 

 

“Diagnostic that was performed earlier has confirmed that I am at one hundred percent, up and running.” FRIDAY sounded like she was smiling and that made Peter feel better about tonight. He had so many thoughts running through his head, keeping him awake, so to complete a mini project and have it established that it was good to go was a nice feeling.

 

“That’s great, FRIDAY.” The AI didn’t respond, so that left Peter with testing the other one. “Karen?” 

 

“Hello, Peter.” Karen sounded through his room. “It is very late, you should be sleeping.” And there it was, Karen’s mother henning. Peter missed it. 

 

“I will, just after I make sure you’re feeling good.” He felt a yawn coming so sleep finding him soon was guaranteed. “I don't want to miss anything, you know.” 

 

“I am perfect, Peter.” Her soothing tone lulled him, somehow lowering her voice. “I am good to shut down.” And that’s exactly what she did. The lights in his room slowly dimmed until they were all out, save for his nightlight. 

 

Peter didn’t remember falling to sleep that night. But he remembers waking up in a cold sweat, a jolt running down his spine and rubbing his face vigorously to get the sting out of his eyes. He wheezed, trying to get air in and out but why wasn’t that working? His shaking hands fumbled with the blankets to get them off. He managed to escape his mess of a bed but his legs didn't seem to work and he fell to the floor. 

 

“Peter, you seem to be in distress," FRIDAY alerted him, all the lights in his room turned on, momentarily blinding him. Thanks, FRI. “Would you like me to alert Boss?” 

 

Peter was so stunned, it must've knocked him out of his panic attack because he froze, just staring at the ceiling like FRIDAY would be above him, looking down expectedly. Was the AI referring to Tony or Pepper? Because technically Pepper was the boss of Stark Industries, but Tony programmed (“birthed” Tony once joked with him) FRIDAY. Either way, Peter somehow got a handle on his breathing and the trembling through his entire body lessened. He shook his head. “N-no,” he gasped, the energy leaving his body and collapsed against the side of his bed. “No, I’m-I’m okay.” Was he? “Don’t tell Pepper.” 

 

“If you’re sure.” FRIDAY didn't say anything else and left Peter alone with his harsh breaths. He was sure. Pepper was pregnant, she needs her sleep. He also couldn’t have Harley seeing him like this, the younger teen wouldn’t know what to do. So Peter sat there, staring at the wall that held a lot of his accomplishments, getting lost in it. 

 

“Peter,” Karen whispered. Peter didn’t jump and he was thankful that he upgraded her programming to know when to keep her voice low. “It is currently 2:29 am, it is recommended that you get a full eight hours of sleep per night. Now would be a good time to sleep to wake up before noon.” 

 

Peter dropped his head tiredly, but he just couldn’t find sleep to be very attractive right now. Instead, he climbed to his feet and walked downstairs, turning on a lamp and flopping down on the couch and stared at the adoption certificates that Pepper hung, proud and center. He smiled lightly and looked at the TV. He could see himself in the reflection of it and suddenly, a lightbulb appeared over his head. 

 

That night, Peter came up with the idea to install a halo table somewhere in the house. All he needed were supplies and Pepper’s permission. 

 

Hopefully she says yes. 

 

---

 

She said yes. 

 

Peter rummaged through some scrap parts that resided in Tony’s lab, a bittersweet feeling. It almost felt like stealing but if someone wasn’t going to use them, they'd just collect… dust and Peter just couldn’t have that. 

 

“This was his lab?” Harley insisted on coming with and Peter agreed, much to Pepper’s delight. “This is… huge.” 

 

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, putting some more tools into his bag. “A lot of sleepless nights here.” All nighters were common when he and Tony collaborated in the lab, sometimes Pepper would end up marching down into the lab and demanding that they go to bed (they did). 

 

“I’m jealous.” Harley ran around and looked at everything Peter deemed ok to touch and toy with. “I wish I could’ve been part of it.” 

 

Peter’s smile deflated and he felt himself feeling bad for Harley. But what could have been done? Harley had his family in Tennessee, Peter just got lucky to be in the same state as Tony. “You still can be,” Peter heard himself say. “Just… with no Mr. Stark.” That hurt. 

 

Harley turned to stare at Peter, both looking downhearted. Peter put his bag down and sat on his assigned stool. “We have that empty garage,” Peter began. “And I was going to ask Pepper if it’d be okay if I took it over.” He scratched behind his ears. “I’m not sure she’d let me.” It’s where Pepper will park the car in the winter, so it’s a 50/50 chance she’ll agree to it. 

 

“You installed two AI’s into the house, fixed the plumbing, and just finished installing a halo table and you think she wouldn’t let you?” Harley laughed sarcastically, walking to sit on another stool by Peter. “Yeah, okay.” 

 

“Whatever, man.” Peter grabbed his bag and started to walk out of the lab. “Come on, let’s go.” Harley followed him and they walked out of the compound, Happy waiting for them in the car. 

 

“Got everything you needed?” At Peter’s nod, Happy started the car and drove the two boys outside of the city to their home. Peter stared at the buildings, feeling a longing. A few months ago, he was swinging through these skyscrapers every night, cheering and doing flips, hearing New Yorker’s try to get his attention for a selfie or an autograph. Now? He hasn’t patrolled in a week, not that he was needed. 

 

After The Snap, crime has lessened. Seemed like even criminals were taking inventory and knowing it was just not the time. Peter was grateful, and while he hadn't really looked at his phone (what’s the point?), he knows people are wondering where he’s gone. 

 

When they got home, Peter asked Pepper about making the garage his workshop. He had a whole speech that he prepared on the car ride back and he was ready to present it to the business woman and it was all proven to be a waste of time as Pepper didn’t need convincing. “Try not to blow it up.” She smiled and patted him on the arm returning to baking (hopefully this batch of cookies turned out good). 

 

Chapter 6

The next week was when Pepper announced that a funeral for Tony, May, Harley’s mom and sister was going to be held. Pepper already arranged one for public viewing, a memorial for the fallen Avengers built alongside all those that were Dusted. 

 

But this one would be more private, more heartfelt and Peter didn’t want to go. It would make it official and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that. 

 

But, he muscled through it. There wasn’t anything to really bury but it was a send off, a resting place for the lost souls. May’s plaque was finished as she and Ben decided to share a grave, Tony’s first arc reactor was sent off on the lake, where it would eventually escape and meet the ocean. 

 

Harley’s mom and sister were dedicated to an old wheel, one that Peter usually sees in older movies or pictures where horses are still pulling wagons. Harley says that it’s a representation of their country life; Tennessee life. Flowers grew through the spokes and along the tire. 

 

Harley set it up against a tree, not too far from the lake. Peter took it among himself to secure it to the tree when Harley went back inside, he didn’t want the wheel to roll away or get lost so Peter nailed it to the tree, still resting along the grass to keep it looking natural. 

 

He didn’t hear if Ned’s or MJ’s families were doing a funeral, no one ever reached out to him. He wasn’t even sure if their families were still here, so he wasn’t too hurt by the silence. He didn’t dare ask FRIDAY or Karen.

 

---

 

“Can you hear the heartbeat better now?” Pepper asked him one day. He explained to her how it was practically soundless to him a few weeks ago when they were eating dinner (after Peter asked about the garage and Pepper was done baking). Now, they were all outside, having a lake day for the Fourth of July.

 

Peter and Harley had a competition on who could do the best flips and jumps (Peter decided to let Harley win) when Pepper walked out of the house carrying their lunch. Harley immediately swam to land and grabbed his sandwich and chowed down like he hasn’t eaten in years. 

 

“What?” Peter pulled himself up on the dock, watching the water drip off his trunks and stain the wood below him as he sat. “You mean right now?” 

 

“Yeah,” Pepper shrugged. “I’m a little bit further along and Cho says the heartbeat is getting strong all the time.” 

 

“Oh,” Peter grabbed a bag of salsa sunchips. He’s always liked salsa sunchips. “It is a bit louder but yours kind of hides it.” Which is true. When he’s in the same house as Pepper and Harley, their heartbeats are as clear as day, like they’re right next to his ears. When he walked on the street with Ned and MJ, all those heartbeats were so different but so loud that it was sometimes overwhelming. But that baby in Pepper’s womb had a heartbeat that was hard to hear even when he’s close to the woman. 

 

“That’s so weird.” Chirped in Harley. “You’re not supposed to hear our hearts,” he took a sip of his water. “You’re abnormal.” 

 

“What? You expected Spider-Man to be normal?” Peter teased before turning back to Pepper. “Should you even be outside?” He hasn’t read a whole lot of pregnancy books, but enough to know what to do to help Pepper and the baby out, and he’s pretty sure it says women cant tan when pregnant, not that Pepper was but Peter wanted to be safer than sorry. “Is it safe for the baby?” He hasn’t checked the UV rays today but he can’t imagine they’re low. 

 

Pepper scoffed, but Peter could see her fight to keep a smile off her face. “I’m pregnant, not a vampire.” Peter shrugged, continuing to eat his sunchips. Apparently their neighbors across the lake always put on a firework show for all the surrounding houses on the Fourth. Peter never really could enjoy fireworks after he got his powers and after his uncle passed. It was too loud and too similar to the gunshot that sounded when Ben’s life was stolen from him. 

 

Luckily, last year, he and Tony made noise canceling earbuds that’ll help in situations like this. He just needs to remember to grab them before tonight. 

 

Harley finished his lunch and was ready to jump back in the water. “Are you going to swim with us?” He asked Pepper, and Peter wondered if she would too. For as long as he’s known the woman, she’s never been too big of a fan of water. Why? Peter doesn't know, and he won't ask. “It’ll be fun.” Harley never was too good at convincing the business woman but Peter had to give him props. 

 

“Maybe, sweetheart.” Pepper smiled before waving him towards the water. “I saw you boys have a jumping competition, show me some of your moves and I’ll rate them.” Harley seemed satisfied with that answer and he tried all these different techniques that Peter would have to help him work on. He might not have been a super athletic kid, what with his asthma and other health issues, but he was pretty good at acrobatics. One front flip in particular was pretty low and seems like Pepper thought the same. 

 

“Solid eight,” Pepper teased him, laughing at his pout. “Jump higher and I’ll maybe consider giving you a ten.” 

 

“I can only jump so high!” Harley cried in defense, doggy paddling in a circle. “Peter, come on!”

 

“I’m still eating, dude.” Peter didn’t like eating too fast, he likes to savor his food. Plus, Pepper makes mean sandwiches, it would be just criminal to rush it. “I’ll jump in soon.” 

 

“Your definition of soon is so different from mine.” Harley sassed, floating in the water like a buoy as someone on their boat drove by. All three watched as families started to boat out to the middle of the lake, ready to enjoy the day and get a good spot for the fireworks. “We should take our boat out.” 

 

“We have a pretty good view right here.” Pepper reasoned. Peter had to admit that they did. The dock went out pretty far and the drop off was pretty instantaneous so he and Harley didn't have to worry about landing on rocks when they jump in. Harley didn't like that answer. 

 

The young teen rolled his eyes, quickly sobering up when Pepper called his name in warning. “I just think it'd be fun.” Harley reasoned. Was there even any gas in the boat? First time Peter and Harley took it out was when they first moved and they didn’t have any tubes or water skis to do much of anything besides wade into the water. 

 

That wasn’t fun. 

 

“I know sweetheart, but we got this nice dock and we could put a blanket down, have our snacks and drinks.” Pepper just didn’t want to throw up, Peter mused. “Peter will have his noise canceling earbuds, we’ll have a great time.” 

 

Because this is the first major holiday since The Snap, the small family decided to just have it with each other (Happy and Rhodey will be arriving later), finding it to be bittersweet to invite the remaining Avengers. Clint had gone MIA, not even Natasha could find him. Steve, Bruce, and the said spy were apparently going to hang out at the compound to get some things done. Nebula, Carol, and Rocket were off-world, and no one’s heard from Thor in months. 

 

Peter hoped he was okay.

 

By the time it was dusk, Peter sat with his noise canceling earbuds in hand, his feet dipped in the water as Harley and Rhodey debated over something (Peter honestly tuned them out a few minutes ago). Happy was helping Pepper with the food (as in, he was carrying a basket down to the dock, Pepper was trailing behind him happily empty handed). 

 

“I think the show is about to start.” Rhodey said as Happy and Pepper finally joined them on the dock, a nice picnic blanket was spread out under them. “Lay out that food, man.” 

 

“Give me a minute, would ya?” Happy grumbled, handing out macaroni salad and grilled cheese. Peter could see some fruit poking out of the basket along with some cookies that Pepper baked a little bit ago (they weren’t a disaster). 

 

“Put your earbuds in.” Pepper told Peter as he was about to grab his second sandwich of the day (Pepper told him he has more waiting for him). He quickly did so and somehow it seems Pepper had psychic powers because no moment later, the first firework went off. 

 

Even with the earbuds, Peter could still hear the fireworks go off. They weren’t to cancel all noise out entirely, but all he heard was a faint boom and a little jump in his chest. Anxiety crawled up him like a snake tightening itself around his heart. It wasn’t too bad, it was something he could handle. But the shake in his hands that never went away got a tiny bit worse but he could handle it.

 

But even as the sky was lit up, it didn’t cancel everything out entirely. He could still see stars, he could still see darkness as it overtook the beautiful orange and pink. He could still see nothing. Stars, alone, dying in space, stranded, never coming back-

 

He doesn’t know why he thought he’d be able to handle the Fourth of July, he thought he could handle it. Obviously not if the lump in his throat and the sweat that was starting to coat his skin was anything to go by. He jumped to his feet, walking fastly to the cabin. He just had to get inside. He just needs to control his breathing and he’ll be fine. 

 

He stumbled inside and leaned against a wall. Which wall? He doesn’t know. “F—” he tried to speak but it came out as a pathetic wheeze. He clawed at his ears to get the buds out and they landed on the floor, suddenly sensitive to the feeling. The curtains in the living room were still open. “FRI—“ he gasped out, his vision growing fuzzy and black spots covering the covers. “Curtains.” 

 

“I’m sorry Peter, but it seems like I’m not hooked up to open or shut any curtains.” FRIDAY said smoothly. “It appears that you are having a panic attack. Would you like me to help you through it?” 

 

Goddammit. 

 

Peter’s legs went out from under him and he slid down along the wall, trying to get air in and out. Somewhere, he heard someone call his name and a hand was on the base of his neck. Someone was telling him to breathe and he was trying, but obviously not good enough as Peter was sure he was two seconds away from passing out.  

 

Someone grabbed his hand and started to tell him to count? Count what? He felt two fingers on his hand, then three, four, back to one, two, three, and repeat. 

 

Count the fingers? 

 

Okay. He tried, but it was just pathetic wheezes. The voice kept encouraging him and eventually, Peter was able to actually speak and count the fingers. He’s never heard of this technique but if it worked, then he’ll take it. His breathing calmed and so did his vision, no longer looking like he was in a very lucid dream. 

 

Rhodey was crouched in front of him, looking worried and stressed. “Are you okay?” Million dollar question. 

 

Peter shakily nodded, rubbing his hands down his face. Damn shaky hands. “Yea-yea I’m okay.” He took a couple more breaths and felt like he needed a nap. 

 

“What was that?” Rhodey asked gently, letting go of Peter’s hand but kept the other on Peter’s neck. The teen found it comforting. “Was it the fireworks? Were the plugs not noise canceling enough?” 

 

“It had nothing to do with the fireworks.” Peter mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest. Though, he feels like it probably was part of it, but he knew exactly what caused his attack, but was he willing to share it with Rhodey? Dr. Cho knows what the cause is and Pepper knows that there is a cause (doctor-patient confidentiality is a blessing) but otherwise doesn’t know anything. 

 

She never pushed him and he’s glad for that. 

 

But Rhodey was here, helping him and Peter just has to wonder how many soldiers did Rhodey come across on a daily basis that have PTSD? That have panic attacks? How many has the man helped? Probably a lot. 

 

So Peter admitted the truth, never once looking Rhodey in the eyes. He felt more courage keeping eye contact with the floor, pretending he wasn’t speaking to anyone but himself. And Rhodey didn’t say a word until he was finished, just letting Peter say what he’s willing to. 

 

Finally, after Peter was done, Rhodey squeezed the spider teen’s neck. “You should talk to someone.” The man advised. “Pepper’s worried, I’m worried, Happy is too. Even Harley.” Peter tried not to cringe under Rhodey’s gaze. He didn’t mean to worry anyone, he actually thought he was doing okay. Sure the nights were rough, but they were manageable especially if the curtains were closed, and sure, his shaking hands didn’t cease but Peter’s gotten good at writing without the words looking like scribbles. 

 

But Peter was fine. 

 

He told Rhodey as such, shaking off the hand on his neck and climbing the stairs to get to his room, ignoring the open windows and the worried gaze from War Machine. 

 

---

 

Peter found that dancing with Black Widow was a lot more peaceful than fighting her. Every Wednesday they’d head to the dance studio and she’d teach him ballet. She tended to compliment him more and he got a lot more praises than he ever did in sparring.

 

Sometimes the blonde ballerina would be there, always lost in her own world. Peter wasn’t sure if he’d ever get the nerve to at least say hello to her, she could maybe be a new friend (and he really did need more).

 

They were currently in the dance studio that was directly across from the one the blonde ballerina was in, Peter could see clearly through both windows and the lobby. This time, her outfit was entirely black except for her beat up teal pointe shoes. 

 

She was doing several pirouettes (Peter counted seven) before she ended it with an arabesque (he silently thanked Natasha for teaching him the terms as well as the moves). After a moment, she dropped from her form and stood there, her head down, unmoving.

 

Peter felt like he was intruding on a very vulnerable moment. He turned away, giving the blonde ballerina privacy. He walked over to his bag and grabbed his water bottle. Natasha was in the bathroom, leaving him with a small break. But did he take it? No. 

 

He tried to mimic the moves the blonde ballerina did, the twirls, the pose, the fluidity. He was pretty sure he looked ridiculous but he was actually having fun with it. He would’ve kept going if he didn’t hear a certain heartbeat get louder as she approached. 

 

“You really need to work on your form.” Natasha said as she entered the studio. “Your posture is disrespectful.” 

 

“Har har,” he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was just messing around.” 

 

“I thought you were pretty good,” both Peter and Natasha turned to the door and saw the blonde ballerina, smiling nicely at Peter. “For a beginner.” 

 

Peter fought the blush that tried to make its presence known on his cheeks. Natasha quirked an eyebrow and sent a smirk at Peter. “Peter,” the spy drawled. “You should thank her.” 

 

“Uh, yeah-yeah,” this time, Peter’s cheeks burned. “Thank-thank you.” 

 

The girl nodded, her gym bag strap clutched in her hand. “Yeah, no problem. I just saw you through the window, thought I’d share my thoughts. You did good.” 

 

Peter nodded, smiling tightly is the only thing he’s able to do now. He thought the blonde ballerina was cute — beautiful even. But he felt extremely awkward and Natasha was certainly not helping things if her teasing looks said anything. 

 

The girl was about to walk out when Natasha, goddamn Natasha, called her attention. “What’s your name?” 

 

The blonde ballerina stopped short, turning back to look at the pair. “Gwen.” She answered simply, smiling slightly at Natasha. Gwen. Ah. The blonde ballerina’s name is Gwen. That’s a pretty name. 

 

“Nice to meet you, Gwen.” Natasha seemed more polite than she usually is. Typically, that means the assassin is about to go in for the kill if Peter knew her. “This is Peter.”

 

Gwen looked his way and actually started walking over to him, holding her free hand out. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Gwen Stacy.” 

 

Gwen Stacy. He stood dumbly for a moment before Natasha cleared her throat and jammed her elbow in his arm. He snapped out of whatever daze he was in and took Gwen’s hand. “Peter… Peter Parker. Hi.” 

 

Gwen’s smile got slightly bigger. “Hi.” Peter had to actually think about letting go of her hand. Their hands were so different. Hers were soft while his were rough. Hers small and dainty and his were big and calloused. Yet they fit perfectly. Peter wanted to smack himself in the face. “Are you his teacher?” Gwen asked Natasha, offering her hand to the spy as well. 

 

“I am,” Natasha shook Gwen’s hand. “Natasha Romanov.” 

 

“I thought you looked familiar.” Gwen giggled. Peter’s mind stopped for a moment because what does Gwen mean? Is the girl really not freaking out over meeting Black Widow? Was she really acting normal? Peter wished he was that cool and collected. “Ballet?” 

 

“My young protege needs to learn how to be more agile, smoother, to let a beautiful art take over.”  Natasha explained, the girls ignoring Peter. He would’ve felt offended if he wasn’t the center of attention a moment ago. “I’ve taught him the basics but I can also do so much if we were to dance together.” Peter knows what Natasha is trying to do and he does not like it. “I mean, I won’t be able to observe very much.” The spider teen watched as the spy pretended to be “in a pickle” before she lightened up with an idea. Well, lightened up as much as Natasha will let them see. “Why don’t you be his partner? Gives him a chance to dance with someone with obvious experience and it lets me watch and critique.” 

 

Gwen didn’t seem convinced but she dropped her gym bag and stood in front of Peter, the boy himself feeling his face blaze even more intensely. She saw through Natasha’s game and still decided to roll with it? Wow. Natasha made her way over and moved Peter’s arms, stretching them out to put them on Gwen’s waist and the girl in question raised her arms above her head to make a somewhat oval-like shape. She rises to her toes and Peter wants to say something but he’s pretty sure it’d come out so horrible wrong and make this even more awkward. 

 

Natasha circled them, checking for any errors before nodding to the pair. “Let’s begin.” 

 

---

 

Peter and Gwen were alone in the dance studio as Natasha had already left, promising to see him Friday. She nodded goodbye to Gwen and left the pair in the studio. 

 

He honestly wasn’t sure what to say to her. She was nice, but he practiced dancing with her before he even got to know some basic facts about her. It seems sad to Peter. 

 

They both sat on the floor a little ways from each other, getting everything in order to leave for the day. He watched as Gwen undid her pointe shoes and swapped them for a pair of worn out converse, drawings in sharpie were stained to the shoes. Before he could help himself, he blurted out, “I like your ballet shoes.” 

 

Gwen looked up at him, surprise evident on her face. Peter could hear her heartbeat speed up a little. “Oh, thank you, Peter.” She said softly. “They’re a little dirty…” 

 

“They have personality.” He countered. Beat up as they may be, they were really nice. 

 

“History,” Gwen agreed, a bittersweet smile on her face. “They were my moms when she was a little bit younger than me.” 

 

Oh this got deep. Peter shifted in his spot on the floor, unsure how to go about this. Does he ask about her mom? Maybe she’s still around? Hopefully she wasn’t one of the Dusted. “She gave them to you?” That seemed like a safe question to ask, a sure way to know for sure what happened to her mom. 

 

Gwen shook her sad, her eyes getting misty. “No,” she murmured. “They were in her memory box.” She started to carefully tuck them into her bag. “My parents and brothers… they’re…” Gwen dropped her head down a little, bringing a hand up to wipe away a tear. 

 

“It’s okay,” Peter heard himself say, trying to sound like how he usually does when he’s Spider-Man and comforting a scared person. “I lost people too.” 

 

“How are you managing it?” Gwen asked, looking to be talking to her bag instead of him. “You train with Black Widow? Get all your anger and sadness out that way?” 

 

Peter chuckled, pulling out his own pair of shoes. He knows she must be curious on how he knows Natasha, but he’s kind of glad she doesn’t ask. “It helps, definitely. But I’ve found people to help.” He sighs. “They’ve always been here, but it unfortunately took…” Thanos defeating The Avengers, losing so many people that he cares about, almost dying. “Took this situation to really know that.” 

 

Gwen nodded, still keeping her head down. Maybe Peter said the wrong thing? He hoped he didn’t, Gwen was a nice person, he’d hate to make her feel bad. “I have my grandma,” Gwen sniffed, and Peter felt himself sag with relief that he hadn’t said anything wrong. “She gave me my moms old room… I…” Gwen sniffed and brushed away another tear, finally lifting her head to look at him. Her eyes look even bluer. “I’m grateful that I have my grandma but… fuck, this sucks.” Gwen laughed tearfully, putting her face in her hands. 

 

“Sucks hard.” Peter agreed, letting Gwen quietly cry. So Gwen dances with her Dusted mothers pointe shoes and only has her grandma now. If Gwen’s mother was in ballet, then Gwen obviously pick up an interest years ago to be this good now. Was her mother her teacher? “Is that why you constantly dance? To be connected with your mother again?” 

 

Gwen nodded, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. Her hair looks soft. “To put it plainly, yeah. I’ve been doing it a lot more in my free time than before.” 

 

Peter supposes that’s why he continues to tinker and assemble more than he ever has before. He repaired old DVD players from dumpsters and made his own web shooters and fluid long before he met Tony Stark, but then became more of a frequent thing as he and Tony got closer, dedicating days to just build. He does it more now to stay connected to Tony. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can say to her. There’s nothing else he could say to make her feel any better. 

 

Gwen smiled, pulling her knees up slightly to loop her arms under, clasping her own forearms as she leans into her thighs. “Me too.” 

Chapter 7

It was mid July when Peter found a dog. 

 

He was on patrol, just looking over his city as he normally did (he wishes he could come out more). Civilians hollered and cheered as he made his presence known, one guy asked him to do a flip while he was swinging by, another asked if he preferred hot dogs or hamburgers. 

 

Hamburgers all the way. 

 

Now, Peter sat atop an apartment building that seemed pretty abandoned. Some buildings in New York were built to stay, even when there’s no reason to keep it. It’s kind of poetic, Peter muses to himself. 

 

He sipped his slushy and let his legs dangle over the edge of the building. He wondered if he should call it a night. It was nearing 11 pm and he wanted to go grocery shopping with Happy tomorrow morning, the man wouldn’t be… happy with a tired teenager. 

 

He sipped the rest of his slushy and tried to ignore the oncoming brain freeze and checked his web cartridges. Just enough to get home. He used the majority of it by being flashy, taking pleasure in the attention New Yorkers gave him. Call him conceded but knowing he was loved by his fellow New Yorkers not only made him enjoy the gig a bit more, but it also proved that he was right to even start Spider-Manning the first place. 

 

He jumped off the apartment roof and shot a web out, moving his body to get the perfect amount of momentum to make himself swing faster and higher, speeding through the city. Along the way, he did recycle his slushy cup (recycling is very important). 

 

Just as he was about to hit the edge of the city, the sound of a dog grabbed his attention. The dog was barking like crazy, and when Peter looked their way, he saw that the dog was stuck in a fence. He slowed his swing and dropped to the ground, unbothered by how far off the ground he was to begin with. 

 

The dog, a golden retriever, had half her body stuck in a broken fence. She kept struggling, barking and whimpering to get out, her nails scratched the concrete below her. 

 

“Oh, no.” Peter mumbled, walking a bit closer to her. But doing that resulted in her not only struggling more, but growling at him. “It’s okay,” he tried to soothe. “You’re okay.” She just kept growling at him, looking ready to bite at any second. “You’re a good girl,” maybe she’d stop growling if he keeps saying that? “Just let me — stop moving.” He grabbed the fence and quickly tore it open like it was something thinner than paper. The dog immediately ran out and Peter threw the broken fence into the nearest dumpster. 

 

By said dumpster, the dog stood there, staring at him with intent. He bent his knees and crouched, holding out a hand. “Come here,” he coaxed, the dog unmoving. “Come on, come here.” He raised his voice an octave. He usually did that with Ned’s dog - a little pug that has some serious health issues - and that always got the little guy super excited (Peter was worried he gave the dog an asthma attack once). 

 

The golden retriever slowly walked towards Peter, her posture low and her head down but straight out, obviously cautious of him. Maybe it was because of the mask? Peter would bet on it. With his other hand, he reached up to remove the mask and with that, the dog immediately stood up right and raced over to him, her tail wagging so fast that he was afraid she’d start flying. 

 

The dog sat in front of him and started to lick his face, her tail never ceasing. Peter laughed and started to pet her head, wishing he could feel how soft her fur was beneath his suit. “Good girl,” he laughed as she lifted a paw and put it on his arm, looking like she was smiling. “You’re so nice. You’re a fluffy little thing.” 

 

The dog was not little by any means, Peter would guess she’s about a year old. But she just continued to sit through his affection, obviously loving the attention if her tail was any indication. Seriously, it looks like she’s about to take flight. 

 

“Do you have a home?” He asked, feeling for a collar but not finding one. Maybe a chip? Peter knows people are starting to do that nowadays, which is smart considering missing animals is super common. “Are you being tracked?” 

 

He stood to his full height and the dog did too, looking up at him like he was her entire world. Peter gently put his hand on her head, and she just stood next to him, the side of her head pressed to Peter’s leg. “I can’t just leave you,” he said, beginning to walk out of the alleyway, returning his mask to his face, the dog still glued to his side. “I’ll take you home and see if you belong to anyone.” 

 

The dog just seemed to be happy to be along for the ride. 

 

“You need a name in the meantime.” Peter didn’t want to be the kind of person to just give an animal a random name like Fridge or Window Cleaner (no offense to MJ who named her cat Mud Puddle (apparently she found the cat in a mud puddle, who would’ve thought)). “How about Ally? Since I found you in an alleyway.” He then shook his head. “Nah, you don’t look like an Ally.” He tested out a few different names until one struck. “What about Millie?” He murmured, walking outside the city with the golden retriever. “Millie sounds good, right?” The dog just looked up at him and her tongue flopped out of her mouth. “Millie, Millie, that’s what I’ll call you.” She looked like a Millie anyways. 

 

---

 

“Peter Benjamin Parker, why is there a dog in my house?” 

 

Peter turned from where he was giving Millie a bath, the dog wagging her tail and getting water everywhere in the bathroom. Pepper stood in the doorway, leaning against it with her arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised. 

 

“Well?” She pressed. 

 

“I found Millie in an alleyway,” he said, maybe a bit too fast. “She was stuck in a fence.” 

 

“So you brought her here?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Pepper sighed, raising a hand to rub her forehead. “Peter—”

 

“She’s a really nice dog!” Peter jumped to his feet, giving Pepper an apologetic smile as she raised both eyebrows like she couldn’t believe he cut her off. She doesn’t like to be interrupted. “I managed to stop at this really nice pet store that’s open, like, all night for some reason. I’m sorry I woke you up. But both FRIDAY and Karen confirmed she’s not microchipped and there’s no missing golden retrievers and—”

 

“Peter,” Pepper, on the other hand, didn’t mind interrupting others. “Next time you want to bring an animal into this house, just let me know.” Maybe it was because of how late it was, or Pepper was so used to his antics, but she didn't seem all that bothered and Peter wasn’t sure if he should say anything more for fear he’d wake Pepper more and actually get in trouble. 

 

Peter stood in the bathroom, still as a statue, listening to Pepper climb the stairs and enter her bedroom. He turned around and Millie was still standing in the tub, acting like it was the best day of her life. 

 

“Well,” he began, making his way over to her and began washing her again. “That went well.” 

 

---

 

“Since when did we get a dog?” Harley yelled later that morning when Peter started to eat a bowl of cereal. The younger teen looked between Peter and Millie (who was sitting right in front of Harley and doing little happy taps like she really really wanted him to pet her). “What did I miss?” 

 

“Ask your brother.” Pepper stepped into the kitchen, pulling her hair into a ponytail. Millie turned her attention away from Harley and followed after the woman. 

 

“Since last night,” Peter scooped some cereal into his mouth, giving Pepper a sheepish look. While he would never admit this outloud, he loved to be unpredictable and keep people on their toes. It was amusing. “She was stuck in a fence.” 

 

“What’s her name?” Harley walked over to the dog and started to pet her, much to Millie’s delight. Peter watched as Harley’s face broke out into a grin, sitting on his knees, more confidently giving the dog attention. 

 

“Millie.” Peter ate some more cereal. The dog didn’t respond to her name, just sitting as her tail went crazy behind her. “She doesn’t know her name.” He mumbled, gaining a snort from Harley. 

 

“So we’re keeping her?” Harley got up off the ground, leaning against the counter where Pepper was having her own breakfast. Sometimes the family shares breakfast together, whether it be eggs, pancakes, French toast, anything of the sort. 

 

Other times, they all had their own little breakfast and all felt right with the world. Peter would never tell Pepper this but he enjoys quiet mornings where he’d open the windows and he’d hear everything that lived out in the woods and lake. Where he’d pour himself a bowl of cereal or heat up waffles and just sit and think to himself, not having to listen to the constant crunching and swallowing of others around him. Pepper enjoys family times and eating together, talking about whatever they want to. 

 

Sometimes it reminded him of his time with May. More often than not, she would already be at work by the time he woke up for school and he’d be out being Spider-Man in the afternoon, sometimes missing dinner. But on weekends, she made it a point to eat all their meals together, to recap the week. Peter found it nice, but he always liked the quietness of a meal. Super hearing is a bitch. 

 

“If you boys can take care of her, I don’t see an issue.” Pepper put some yogurt in a bowl and some granola. She then looked pointedly at Peter. “No more animals.” 

 

Harley suddenly looked insulted, looking back and forth between Peter and Pepper. “Oh so when he finds a dog stuck in a fence, he can keep her? But when I find a chipmunk—”

 

Pepper took another bite of her yogurt. “We’re not having this conversation again.” 

 

---

 

“Come on, Millie!” Peter laughed as he and Harley sprinted out the door of the house, the dog tailing them, matching their speed (although Peter had to physically hold himself back from going too fast). Millie barked as Harley waved a ball above his head (his old baseball, apparently. Peter never knew Harley was in that sport until now) and threw it to Peter, the dog jumping up to try to catch it but missed. For a while, the brothers and their dog played together, throwing the ball and having her retrieve it and trying to teach Millie her name (sometimes she responded, other times she didn’t). 

 

Millie has been added to the family for a total of five days. Pepper made Peter and Harley go out and get dog food, toys, and a bed while she stayed home to take care of SI business. The two happily obliged and returned home to see Pepper sitting on the floor of the living room, holding a phone to her ear and Millie laying next to her, her tummy exposed as Pepper gently pet her. 

 

By the time dinner rolled around, Millie was tuckered out on her bed in the living room while the small family ate their dinner. Looking at her, Peter felt a kind of jealousy. She can sleep just fine while he can’t. Peter still struggled with shaky hands, the night terrors, panic attacks, and the what ifs, it’s always been about the what ifs. 

 

Pepper never brought up that night of the Fourth of July, neither did Harley, Rhodey, or Happy. He’s pretty sure Natasha knows something but she also keeps it to herself. Which Peter was more than fine with. It’s only been a couple of weeks since and he’s sleeping less than before and he feels himself grow more irritated at the small things, restless, and just overall a heavy weight in his chest. 

 

But he doesn’t mention anything. He makes the AI’s swear to secrecy, he tries to act normal, and live his life as Peter Parker. Some days it was harder than others. 

 

“Spider-Man hasn’t been seen for awhile.” Pepper cut into her steak, staring straight at Peter, quickly looking at his hands struggling to cut his food before meeting his eyes again. “They miss you.” She smiled. 

 

“I was just there a week ago.” Peter finally cut his piece. Hurray. “Karen’s been keeping an eye out for any crime that happens.” 

 

“Yes but,” Pepper put her utensils down and her eyes turned sad. Peter didn’t like where this was headed. “They haven’t seen you.” 

 

Ah. While being Spider-Man, Peter made it a point to always always talk with the civilians, to show them that he’s one of them and that he’s no different just because he has these abilities that they don’t. He would sometimes walk the street, talk to anyone who wanted to ask him questions (if he wasn’t busy, that is), take pictures, autograph, do cool tricks. 

 

Ever since The Snap, Peter hasn’t stepped foot on the ground in the city as Spider-Man (meeting Millie doesn’t count, Peter tells himself). He was constantly swinging, no longer laughing aloud as he dove through the skyscrapers, no longer making small quips with civilians. He thought they understood. What happened was awful for everyone, no one was spared from The Snap. Everyone lost someone. 

 

He figured they understood that he lost people too. 

 

April was a while ago, now. It was July, almost August. So many were still grieving the instant loss of loved ones, but it seems everyone expected Spider-Man to bounce back quicker than others. Peter’s not sure if he ever could. 

 

“Once school starts,” Peter rubbed his trembling hands together, trying to collect himself again. “I’ll spend more time in Queens.” But how well will that go? He still needs to train with Natasha, school work, spend time with Pepper and Harley, now taking care of Millie, plus being Spider-Man? 

 

“Will I have to ride home alone, then?” Harley asked, plopping some potatoes in his mouth. The young teen didn’t seem bothered by that, but Peter could read inbetween the lines. Without him in the car, and Happy’s awesome conversation skills, Harley was sure to be bored. 

 

Peter nodded, hoping he looked apologetic. “Some days.” But then he perked up, remembering a little fun fact he learned about Harley. “Why don’t you try out for baseball? It’s a fall and spring sport, right?” 

 

“Baseball?” Pepper looked excited as she turned her full attention to Harley. “You want to play?” 

 

“I mean,” Harley shrugged awkwardly and Peter felt smug at the idea that he put the kid on the spot. Is that what big brothers do? Put their younger brothers on the spot? It was oddly amusing. “I played in Tennessee.” 

 

“You can meet some new friends there.” Peter scooped some green beans into his mouth, looking at Pepper and seeing matching anticipation for what Harley could say. But Peter quickly sobered up and gave Harley an encouraging smile. “I think it’d be really good for you.” 

 

Harley shrugged again, messing with his potatoes. Peter could see conflict behind his eyes, weighing Peter’s words. He hopes Harley will try out, it’ll be a step towards normalcy for him. 

 

“Why don’t you try out for a sport?” Harley mumbled, slouching in his chair. So many reasons.

 

“Spider-Man and training with Natasha are my sports.” Peter rebutted, smirking at Harley’s eye roll. It’s true, fitting a sport into his already busy schedule would just spell out disaster. “Plus, I don’t even know which sport I’d be interested in.” 

 

“I think the extra curriculars you have now are enough.” Pepper ate some more food. The heartbeat in her womb was a bit louder than before, Peter fought a smile. Her bump was starting to form and Peter wanted to poke it. “And you,” she directed her attention back to Harley who just started to eat his food again. He stopped mid bite and stared wide eyed at Pepper. “Should try baseball, make some friends, get some recognition, it could possibly lead to some great opportunities.” 

 

Peter smiled again, seeing confidence build in Harley. He was glad to see that Pepper’s words had obviously affected the boy. He mulled over what Pepper had said a little bit ago, where Queens misses him. She didn’t say it out right, but he knew what she meant. 

 

Get back out there. 

 

Peter tunes the conversation between Pepper and Harley out, trying to keep his green beans from falling off his shaky fork, and wondering if he was ready to go back to what once was. 

 

---

 

“Have you gone school shopping yet?” Gwen asked him one Wednesday. August had officially arrived and his birthday was just days away. He hasn’t gotten his school supply list from Midtown yet but he really doesn't need to look at the same piece of paper he’s gotten two years in a row again since starting high school. Gwen told him that she’s transferring to a new school this year, since her old school was out of range from where her grandma lives. She didn’t seem bothered by it, as far as Peter could tell. “A new start” she told him. 

 

The two just finished dancing while Natasha watched, the way she had a sharp look in her eye told Peter that he was improving well. Maybe soon she’ll show him how to implement dancing into his fighting. Peter has to stop himself from bouncing on his toes in excitement. 

 

“No, not yet. I think I’ll be doing that next week.” Peter and Gwen sat down on the outside steps of the dance studio, the air wasn’t as humid as it was for the past two months but the sun still shone and Peter could feel himself start to sweat again. “How’s your grandma? She’s good?”  

 

“Same as always,” Gwen smiled, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. “She wants you over for dinner.” 

 

What? Peter and Gwen became friends fairly quickly but to have dinner with her? And with her grandma? Peter could feel the heart attack approaching. “Really?” He squeaked. 

 

Gwen nodded, her face dropped a little, looking unsure. “Since… The Snap, I’ve been on my own.” She then paused. “Besides my grandma, I mean.” She tightened her zip up around herself, almost in a hug like fashion. “My friends aren’t here anymore,” she shrugged, no longer meeting Peter’s eyes but instead watching a butterfly land on a bush. “You’re the first one I’ve made since… and my grandma is really thankful for that. So she wants to meet you.” 

 

Heart attack postponed. Peter looked down at his knees, thinking about what Gwen said. She was his first friend too, and he felt kind of flattered to know that Gwen mentioned him to her grandma. A second later, guilt ate him up. He’s never even brought her up to Pepper or Harley, Natasha is the only one who knows of Gwen. 

 

Unless the spy spilled the beans. Which Peter can’t see happening but Natasha is always full of surprises. 

 

“When would be a good time?” He asked, fighting to keep his face from lighting on fire. “Tonight? I can totally do tonight.” Did that come off too strong?

 

“Oh, no, not tonight.” Gwen laughed, finally looking at him again. “My grandma would need more than just an hour's notice. What about Saturday?” 

 

His birthday was that Friday and it was just going to be a small celebration between him, Harley, Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. It feels wrong, celebrating without May, Ned, MJ, and Tony. It shouldn't be this way, but it is and Peter almost feels guilty like he just chose not to invite them. He couldn't invite them. But this is his life now, and he just has to continue to move on. Pepper’s pregnancy was stellar as was her work as a CEO, Harley was asking him to practice catching and throwing his baseball that Millie tried to tear apart (Peter made a mental note to buy him a new one soon). Happy was still Happy and Rhodey was sharing old college and military stories with him. Millie was as happy as ever, and Gwen decided it was time to bump Peter up on her friendship scale. 

 

This was his life now and Peter doesn't mind it, not at all. He just wishes he could have both at the same time. May would’ve loved Gwen and Harley. 

 

“I can do Saturday.” Peter smiled, watching Gwen get up off the steps as she finally finished putting her pointe shoes safely in her backpack, having pulled out a pair of headphones. Having known Gwen for a short period of time, Peter came to the conclusion that “she was a punk who did ballet” (Peter still chuckles to himself over that reference). 

 

“I’ll text you the details.” She promised before making her way down the steps and tapping her phone a few times before she walked away, leaving Peter to not only listen to her pounding heart, but the loud music she was listening to which was vastly different from the kind they danced to earlier today (Mozart was just that guy). 

 

No second later, a sleek gray car pulled up and Happy rolled down the passenger side window, looking happier than Peter ever sees him whenever he’s driving. Which means the older man is up to something. “Hey, Kid,” Happy greeted as Peter got closer to the door. “Who was that?” His tone was light and held a flutter to it.

“Oh, uh, yeah, that was Gwen.” He shrugged, already feeling awkwardness crawl up his back. He really didn't want Happy to make nothing into something. “She… trains with Natasha and I.” Maybe mentioning the spy would make Happy back off. 

 

“Really?” That didn’t work, Happy’s teasing turned into genuine interest. “How did she manage to train with Black Widow and Spider-Man?” 

 

“She doesn’t know I’m Spider-Man.” Peter looked out the window, the sun suddenly disappeared as clouds started to roll in. Was it supposed to rain today? “Natasha and I saw her dancing in a separate studio.” 

 

“Ballet?” Happy got in the left lane, trying to cross one of the many bridges that’ll lead them out of the city. Peter turned his head, confused. How could Happy know that? “I saw her shoes.” Ah. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, ballet.” Peter didn’t feel like talking anymore, he was tired and even now that the sun has gone behind some clouds, he’s still sweaty and warm. “She’s very good, Natasha was even impressed.” 

 

Happy let out a low whistle, not taking his attention off the road. “Damn, she must be special if Natasha keeps her around.” 

 

“She’s a nice girl.” First friend he’s made since that horrid day, and the more Peter thought about it, the more grateful he was. Gwen wasn’t Ned or MJ, but she was just as good. She was just as smart, as special, as talented as the other two. A whisper in his mind constantly worried that he wouldn’t make any friends, he’d live the rest of his life without them. Maybe the universe is finally starting to take pity on him. 

 

What a wish. 

Chapter 8

“So I’ve been looking at your school,” Harley said when Peter got home, carrying his laptop as he and Millie followed Peter around the kitchen. The older teen was just trying to get a high protein snack in him before dinner so he didn’t pass out, and Harley deemed that as an appropriate time to pester Peter. “And what your school considers a sport is what other schools consider as loser nerds trying to outsmart each other.” 

 

“Oh, okay, ow.” Peter grumbled, rummaging through the fridge. “Science fairs are fun.” He grabbed an apple before continuing his quest. “Chess… okay, not so much.” MJ didn’t find it fun either but Ned loved chess. 

 

“You guys don’t have anything.” Harley acted like his world was ending and Peter just rolled his eyes, going to the sink and washing his apple before taking a bite. “You guys have a football field but no football team?” 

 

Peter looked up and saw Harley had an eyebrow raised, looking so unimpressed. Peter shrugged. “Before Midtown moved in, the previous school had one.” 

 

“Midtown has been there since the 60’s, what’s stopping your school from either getting a team or getting rid of the field?”

 

Peter honestly didn't know. Maybe it was for looks? Or maybe the school didn’t want to use its money for it? The kids at his school are geniuses, not many have a very athletic bone in their body. They had a basketball team, but Peter’s not sure how good they’ve been since he entered high school. 

 

But because Harley was not totally interested in either science or tech, he and Pepper both agreed that maybe Midtown wasn’t the best place for him to go to school. Brooklyn High was just a regular school with a fantastic baseball team and while they didn’t necessarily have a mechanics program, it was good enough for Harley and only a ten minute car ride away from Midtown. 

 

“Whatever.” Harley shut his laptop and stared at Peter as the older teen continued to munch on his apple. “Tryouts for Brooklyn’s baseball team is next week. If I make the team, I’ll start on the 27th.” 

 

Peter nodded, throwing away his apple core and going back on his hunt to get actual protein in his body. “You’ll make the team, you have nothing to worry about.” He looked behind him and smiled reassuringly at his brother. “Both Pepper and I believe in you.” Harley has a mean arm and his ability to hit any baseball thrown at him was insane. Peter had half a mind to throw slightly harder than he normally does just to see if Harley could handle it. 

 

The only thing Harley did in response to that was nod, a tight lip smile graced his features as well. After a moment of silence, Harley finally spoke again. “It’s your birthday in a few days.” 

 

 Peter stopped his rummaging, falling still like a statue. A second later, he cleared his throat, the familiar feeling of irritation crawling up his back. “Yup.” 

 

“Have you decided on what meal you want to have?” Both Peter and Harley came from a family that did special things like that on birthdays. Pick the meal or movie, pick the outing or desert. When the topic was brought up over lunch, Pepper thought it was a wonderful idea to bring over a tradition from their families to hers to make things seem familiar. 

 

Peter honestly hasn’t thought about what their main meal would be, not feeling in the birthday spirit. He’s almost tempted to just call the whole day off, stay in bed all day and pretend the world is okay, for even just a moment. 

 

“Peter.” 

 

Coming back from being lost in his head, Peter realized he was gripping the fridge handle too tightly, denting it beneath his grip. He let go, a jolt of confusion running through him. He constantly regulated his strength, held back to avoid any damage to anyone or anything. Even as Spider-Man, he never crossed that certain line. 

 

But now, looking at the fridge, he was using the same amount of strength he always used. So why did it still bend? Even when he wasn’t paying attention, his hold on his strength never betrayed him. Was he getting stronger?

 

“Dude…” Harley got up off the stool, joining Peter’s side as they both looked at the fingerprints on the fridge handle. Harley had a hint of a grin on his face as he looked at Peter, a huff of laughter escaping the younger teen. “Pepper’s gonna have your ass.” 

 

“Shut up.” He wasn't sure how to fix the handle without Pepper knowing, even if he was sneaky to the supreme, she somehow always knows things. 

 

Oops. 

 

---

 

“Happy birthday, Pete.” Rhodey tugged the spider teen into his arms, ruffling Peter’s hair hard. The teen in question smiled, trying to keep his spirits up for today. Pepper and Happy were in the kitchen fussing over the main meal (Peter chose a simple pizza, he didn’t feel like having anything crazy), and Harley was practically glued to Rhodey’s side, asking him a bunch of questions about the airforce and flying. 

 

“What’s up with the fridge?” Happy asked as he and Pepper strolled into the living room, joining the rest of the small party. Peter’s face broke red, sheepishly smiling at Pepper as she turned her attention over to him. 

 

“Yeah, Pete, what is up with the fridge?” Harley smiled impishly, also staring at Peter pointedly. The teen in question gave a small glare at his brother, slowly pulling himself away from Rhodey’s grasp. 

 

“The kitchen needed a personal touch.” He shrugged, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. After a few moments of trying to figure out how to fix the fridge without Pepper knowing turned out to be a total bust (all the solutions he and Harley thought of resulted in her absolutely figuring it out), Peter just decided to come clean. The woman wasn’t as angry as Peter thought she’d be, and over the last few days, it sort of made the kitchen feel homey. 

 

“Lost handle on your strength?” Rhodey teased, plopping down on the couch. 

 

“Something like that.” Peter laughed, sitting down next to him as the rest of the group joined them. Since that day, Peter kept trying out his strength and figuring out his limitations. He felt like he was back to square one when he first got his powers. He had to be even more vigilant to make sure he didn’t break anything. “I’ve got a handle on it.” He assured them, trying to feel confident. 

 

“Why haven’t you fixed it?” Happy asked, groaning as he bent his knees to sit down. Old man. “Seems easy enough to do.” 

 

“I kind of like it.” Pepper shrugged, turning on some soft music from the TV. Peter still didn’t know how Pepper could like her dented fridge. It was sleek, more modern than modern (even if their house is a cabin and meant to look old), and very expensive. How could Pepper not want it fixed? “Like Peter said. Personal touch.” 

 

“Pep, your whole home is filled with personal touch.” Rhodey gestured at the room they’re all sitting in. Crocheted blankets from Pepper’s mother lined along the back of the couches, the adoption certificates were hung along the stairs, pictures of the small family were placed around the room, May’s favorite flower vase was on the coffee table that belonged to Harley’s mother. “How much more personal can it get?” 

 

“In a matter of months, Rhodey,” Pepper patted her stomach, officially becoming four months pregnant in a few weeks. Peter zoned in on if the baby’s heartbeat had grown a little bit stronger and louder. It did. “You’ll be eating your words.” 

 

“I’d rather eat some pizza.” Rhodey shot back, looking at Pepper playfully. “When’s that going to be ready?” 

 

“Manage your hunger for another twenty minutes.” Happy answered, catching a pillow that Rhodey flung at him. Peter let out a small laugh, leaning back in his spot with his arms crossed over his chest. The topic of interest changed many times in the twenty minutes it took for the pizza to bake, and all of it was great. Everyone was laughing and telling jokes, reminiscing on the good memories, not a dull smile to be found. 

 

But Happy ruined it. 

 

“Where does your friend go to school, Peter?” Peter’s eyes met Happy’s, the way there was mischief in the man’s eyes made Peter want to die a little bit. Everyone quieted down and stared at Peter, waiting. “She goes to Midtown too?” 

 

“Friend?” Pepper perked up. 

 

“She?” Rhodey smirked at the same time. 

 

Peter glared at Happy while the man just continued to smirk at Peter. “Oh yeah, I saw the two of them talking when I picked the kid up from training with Natasha. Gwen, you said?” 

 

Peter wanted so badly to throw something at Happy. His face felt warm and he had a hard time trying to figure out what words to say, much to the amusement of the others. Harley was wiggling his eyebrows which didn’t help either. Finally, he spoke. “Y-yeah, she does ballet…” his hands felt clammy. “Natasha let her join in on our practice.” He shrugged, picking at his shirt, not meeting anyone’s eyes. God, this is so awkward. 

 

“Wait wait,” Rhodey shook his head, looking like Peter just said something absolutely ridiculous. “Natasha let her join you guys? Does she even know who you two are?” 

 

“She knows nothing about me being Spider-Man.” Peter answered, tension loosening from his shoulders. Moving on from the two of them, they’re now focused on the spy. “She doesn’t ask why I dance with Natasha.” 

 

Pepper hummed, her hands clasped together and resting lightly on her womb. “And you haven’t mentioned her because…?” 

 

Goddammit. 

 

“She was just a dance partner.” Peter ignored Harley’s teasing hum and the pokes in his shoulder. “But we’re now just starting to become actual friends.” That’s not entirely true, they’ve been actual friends for a while now, but he wasn’t sure if he should admit the truth. Especially with Pepper’s interest in her and everyone else's teasing. “I didn’t want to jinx anything.” He mumbled. 

 

“She must be good for Natasha to keep her around.” Rhodey mused. Peter remembered Happy’s earlier words, differently said but ultimately the same.

 

“She’s been doing ballet for years, just like her mom.” Peter smiled a little, the worn down teal pointe shoes flashing through his mind for a moment. Gwen was good, very good that Natasha complimented her as soon as the red head saw the blonde. “She’s super talented.” 

 

“Gives you a run for your money, I bet.” Harley laughed, smacking Peter a bit too hard on the shoulder as the younger teen left the living room and headed into the kitchen. Hearing him open and close the fridge and a small sizzle, Peter guesses Harley grabbed a soda. 

 

“I’m glad you’re making a new friend.” Pepper smiled, getting up from her current spot to steal Harley’s, who had just come back from the kitchen and groaned when he saw that Pepper stole his seat. She rubbed Peter’s upper back, giving him an encouraging smile. “Really glad. I hope to meet her soon.” 

 

“Don’t hide her for too long, Pete.” Rhodey warned, a smirk gracing his lips. “Or I’ll have to sabotage your dates just to meet her.” 

 

Oh, no. “They’re not dates.” Peter insisted, maybe a bit too fast but he couldn’t find the ability to care. His face was ablaze, brighter than it was previously. He had to quickly change the topic before he died by embarrassment. “It’s training. Which, by the way, Natasha says I’m getting better at.” His cheeks still burned but he smirked victoriously at Rhodey and Happy, the two men rolling their eyes and betting him that they could win a fight against him. 

 

With that, Gwen was no longer mentioned. Time passed and the family ate, talked some more about their lives. Harley was excited to mention that he’d be trying out for Brooklyn High’s baseball team in a few days and was hopeful he’d make the cut. Happy recalled his sports days, apparently he was in football and basketball, leaving his spring season open for focusing on school. 

 

“Didn’t you have big, curly hair when you were in high school?” Peter asked, chewing on his final slice of pizza. Millie was sitting in front of him, begging, wagging her tail so hard he thought it was going to fly off. “Annie type hair?” He laughed, giving in and throwing a piece of pepperoni at the dog. 

 

“Wait, seriously?” Harley cackled, his second can of soda tight in his grip as he rocked with his laughter. “No way!” 

 

“He had a mullet at one point, too.” Pepper giggled, taking a piece of pepperoni that Peter offered her from his slice. “It was quite the look.” She teased her friend. 

 

“The fucking mullet.” Rhodey laughed in his hands, Peter could see tears gathering in the corner of Rhodey’s eyes. 

 

Without thinking, Peter blurted out, “Could you even get a helmet on with your Annie hair?” That got another round of laughter from the small group and Peter was well aware of Happy’s glare but he just couldn’t stop grinning. And it felt good. 

 

Peter’s pretty sure he hasn’t smiled and laughed like this in so long. Have the others? Harley’s face was starting to become red with the amount of laughing he’s doing, Pepper’s smile hasn’t been this bright since before The Snap, Rhodey’s crying and not because he’s sad, and Happy looks to be thoroughly enjoying himself (even if the man was being made fun of). 

 

Soon, when everyone calmed down, Pepper pulled the cake out of the fridge and placed it in front of Peter at the dining table. Happy set up a camera at the end of the table that would take a picture of them as a group since it was on a timer. He watched as Pepper stuck candles in the cake and Rhodey lit them, the small amount of heat from the flames was comforting. 

 

“Make a wish.” Pepper gripped his shoulders as she stood behind him, leaning her cheek on the side of his head. A wish? Peter only wanted one thing and unfortunately, a birthday wish wasn’t going to grant it. 

 

May and Tony should be with them, standing at Peter’s side with Pepper. Ned and MJ should be sitting next to Harley, watching with eager eyes, waiting for him to blow out his candles so they can just eat the damn cake. 

 

Mist grew in Peter’s eyes. He dropped his head a little and he blinked fast, willing them away. But he wasn’t quick enough as he saw Happy’s smile turn sympathetic. Pepper gripped his shoulder a little tighter and she pressed a kiss to his temple. 

 

His lip quivered and he knew he was in trouble. Releasing a shaky sigh, he propped his elbow up on the table and covered his face with his hand. He knew today was going to be hard, too hard. But he tried and yet, still he cries. 

 

Tears slipped down his cheeks and he brought up his other hand to fully cover his face as he quietly sobbed. He just wanted this day to end. Turning seventeen was supposed to be a big deal. One year left until he was considered an adult. It was the age Tony promised him a car and May considered being more lenient on his curfew. 

 

It was the age that he, MJ, and Ned were going to apply for college. He was supposed to go to the homecoming game with his friends, have night outs with them, do homework, discover new things to do, go to junior prom. 

 

Become more to Stark Industries than just Tony Stark’s personal intern, work with other interns and employees, get to know the company more on the inside. 

 

He wouldn’t trade Pepper and Harley for anything, this small family they formed. He loves that he and Rhodey are closer than ever, that Happy is more… happy with him than previously. But he wishes so badly that he could have both lives at the same time. 

 

Where Tony would be here to help take care of his unborn baby. Where Ned and MJ would welcome Harley into their little group with ease. Where May and Pepper can have their “girl talks” again. 

 

Where Gwen would be welcomed by all of them. 

 

He didn’t care that candle wax was melting down onto his cake frosting or the way Pepper’s nails dug into his shoulders just a bit. He didn’t care that Happy and Rhodey were looking at him with sympathy. He didn’t care that Harley looked upset. He didn’t care that Millie’s head was resting on his leg. He didn’t care that his face was wet with tears and his throat was starting to become sore from crying. He didn’t care that the flash of the camera went off. 

 

He just didn’t care. 

 

---

 

Later that night, when Rhodey and Happy went to their homes and the boys went to their bedrooms, Pepper sat on the couch, biting at her nails as she was lost in thought. 

 

She knew that Peter would have a rough time today and she hoped she made it easier for him by making him laugh and serving his preferred dish. His presents were small but meaningful and she could tell that he was beyond grateful but there was still an air of sadness around him that she tried to smother. 

 

She hoped she had made the day bearable for him. 

 

She expected a few tears and sniffles, Lord knows she was holding back her own on occasion. But he just cried in front of his cake and there’s a photo to prove that his seventeenth birthday was just… sad. 

 

She dropped her thumb from her mouth, her nail bitten ugly. Tony always lightly tugged her hair whenever she’d start to bite, something he’s done since she was his assistant. She hadn’t chewed her nails in so long, not even when The Snap was fresh. She’d give anything to feel that slight tug again. 

 

She stared down at the small bump that grew in her womb, the little baby she was carrying. Pepper still found it fascinating that Peter could hear the heartbeat if he was close enough. At least they’d know if anything was wrong. 

 

She glanced at the stairs, the upstairs hallway light was off but she’d still be able to see just fine from the soft glow of the living room lamp. She should check on him. He’s probably still awake. Pepper knows he still struggled to sleep, his hands weren’t getting any better as they still shook. His nightmares were constant. He might have made the AI’s refrain from tattling but Pepper wasn’t an idiot, she knew signs of nightmares and while the medication helped, it didn’t cure all. 

 

She got up off the couch and made her way upstairs and walked to the end of the hallway, keeping her feet light but she knew it was fruitless. Peter had super hearing after all. But still, she knocked and waited for his permission to enter his room. His back was towards her as he laid on his side, Millie was laying at the foot of his bed, her tail slowly wagging when she saw Pepper. His curtains covered every window in his room and his nightlight was a warm yellow. 

 

The nightlight was so bright, it might as well be the main light of the room. She never questioned why he had it or why it was so bright. Again, she wasn’t an idiot. She had some idea of what he experienced in space all those months ago. 

 

“Hey,” she said softly as she sat on his bed. Her hand hovered over his shoulder for a moment before she moved to thread his curly hair through her fingers. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a good birthday.” 

 

He sighed deeply before turning his head to look at her. His expression broke her heart. She’s seen him sad, dejected, seen him cry and just look so tired of the world. But now? He doesn’t look alive to her. 

 

He’s grown some since he’s been in her care. He's grown more into his face and went from being adorable to becoming a handsome young man. He’s always been on the short side since she’s known him but in the more recent months, he’s grown to be a bit taller than her, and she was not a short woman. Last she checked, she was five foot nine, no way this kid was taller than her. 

 

But it’s true and she’s not sure if he’ll keep growing or not. Five foot ten was pretty average for men, she’d count that as a victory on Peter’s behalf. 

 

After some time, Peter shrugged and looked away from Pepper. “It’s just a birthday.” He mumbled, staring at his wall blankly. “Nothing special.” 

 

“Just a birthday?” Pepper wouldn’t count today to be “nothing special”. It was the day Peter Parker was delivered into this world, a world that was blessed and lucky to have him. How he couldn’t see it, she didn’t know. “Birthdays are always special.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his head. “I’m happy that you’re able to have one.” 

 

Peter didn’t speak again, and she didn’t push him. Her eyes wandered to his bedside table where his medication was. Was it even working? Cho already made them hefty for his metabolism so they can work, but that doesn’t always make them effective. 

 

Looking at Peter, whether he registered it or not, she could only see a boy who witnessed something extremely traumatic and now just goes through the motions of everyday life, not fully living. He might smile and laugh but his eyes spoke his truth. She made a mental note to talk to Cho soon. 

 

Pepper pressed another kiss to his head. Without thinking, she said, “I love you.” She’s never said those words to him before, but she means it. He’s her son, and has been since that first year of knowing him and she wants him to know that. “I’m lucky to have you.” He deserved to know that. 

 

He and Harley were unexpected but so welcomed. She had two sons, something she never would've imagined having. Now this baby? Three kids and she wouldn’t trade them for the world, the love she had for them was something Pepper hadn’t experienced before but she loved it. 

 

She saw a tear leak out of his eye and go down the side of his nose before it dropped to the sheet below him. He slowly blinked and she silently willed him to go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day. 

 

After Happy and Rhodey left, Peter shared with her that Gwen invited him over for dinner on Saturday. Pepper was so happy beyond happy that Peter made a new friend. She knows it couldn’t have been easy after losing two that were very close to him, but at least he was trying. 

 

Gwen too. According to Peter, she lost everyone but her grandma. The fact that those two found each other was a blessing in disguise. Maybe when the school year starts, he’ll make more friends too and he’ll heal little by little.

 

Pepper withdrew her fingers from his hair, getting up off his bed. Millie stayed put, briefly opening her eyes at Pepper’s movements before shutting them again. “I’m just down the hall.” She reminded him as she opened his door. She didn’t expect a response but kept talking, repeating her words from earlier. “I love you.” With that, she left. 

Chapter 9

Notes:

This is gigantic

Hope yall enjoy it!🩷

It was about midnight when she got a text from Peter. Gwen was at her laptop, doing some research on her new school. Apparently Midtown School of Science and Technology was the best of the best, their programs comparable to some universities. It was amazing, the building layout, the opportunities, the clubs and sports (sports was a generous word to use, Gwen supposes). 

 

She has always been interested in that school but unfortunately, it just didn’t work out. Midtown has always been out of reach, literally. The distance between that school and her old apartment was too great and her parents didn’t see the point when her old school was just fine. 

 

She didn’t view it in the same light. But now that she’s living with her grandma, she’s within walking distance of that school. There was an application she had to fill out and a test she had to pass in order to even think about getting in. So, one night in July, she decided on a whim to just do it. 

 

She passed with flying colors. 

 

The school was expensive but she tried to find as many scholarships as she could so she or her grandma wouldn’t be in debt. She managed to find a few and while she didn’t have a free ride, it was manageable. 

 

She tugged her headphones off her head when she got his text through her laptop. Her music was still loudly playing but she ignored it, opening her massager. She and Peter often texted each other at random times, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary at all. But Gwen felt unease settle in her stomach as she read Peter’s text a few times. 

 

Pete: You up? 

 

Me: For some reason

Me: What's up?

 

Pete: Nothing, just wanted to talk

Pete:  Whatcha doin

 

Me: Researching my new school

Me: It’s freaking awesome 

 

Pete: What school?

 

Me: MIDTOWN

Me: Imma be among da nerdz

 

Gwen waited patiently for Peter to respond as she put her headphones back on and tried to ignore the sadness that crept up her back while she continued to look at Midtown. All she had ever known was her old school, with her friends and teachers, even the infamous janitor, Doug. He was pretty cool, always gave Gwen high-fives or fist bumps. 

 

Her old life was five hours away from Midtown, completely different scenery, different classmates, different life. The only thing that stayed present was the ballet program she’s been in since she was five. Just last week she got an email that classes will be starting up September 7th, this year's performance is going to be the Nutcracker and Gwen prays that she’ll get an amazing role. 

 

No role is too small, her mother had often told her.

 

It’ll be an adjustment that Gwen will have to deal with, there’s not much else to do but that. She and her grandma have never been too close and like Peter told her some time ago, it unfortunately took world devastation to get past that barrier. 

 

Finally, after a moment, Peter responded. 

 

Pete: I go there 

 

“No way!” Gwen gasps, perking up in her desk chair, not caring that it was a little past midnight and her grandma was sleeping across the hall. Peter goes to Midtown? Gwen couldn’t be this lucky. 

 

Me: Don’t mess with me

 

Pete: Maybe we’ll be in the same home room

 

Me: PETER

 

Pete: GWEN

 

Me: This is crazy 

Me: I’m really really really glad :D

 

She really was. She wasn’t sure how well she’d make new friends. The ones she lost were the ones she’s had for so long, they became a part of her. They were always with each other, little parts of her heart left the day they did. She honestly wasn’t sure if she’d ever be whole again, even if she continued to move on and meet new people, grow as a person that no one from her past would be able to meet. 

 

She released a shaky breath, the song blasting her eardrums ended and no second later, the new one started. She glanced above her laptop and stared at the polaroid pictures she took with her friends before she lost them all. Besides them sat pictures of her with her brothers and parents. Her heart ached and she felt her eyes begin to water, blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears. 

 

It wasn’t fair. 

 

A ping in her headphones brought her attention back to her laptop, Peter responded. 

 

Pete: me too

 

Lower case often meant someone was in their “feels”, that they would be murmuring or whispering if their conversation was in person. At least, in Gwen’s experience it usually means that.

 

Pete: You’ll love it, it’s such a good school 

Pete: I hope to have Mr Harrington again as my homeroom teacher 

Pete: You’ll love him, he teaches chemistry and does decathlon 

 

She bit her lip, hesitating to ask a certain question that’s been playing round and round in her head for a couple of weeks. She didn’t want to outright ask Peter this certain question, but she just had to know. 

 

Me: will it be easy to make friends? 

Me: will people want to be my friend? 

 

Pete: I wanted to be your friend the second I saw you 

 

That made Gwen’s insides freeze, her hands clenching as her fingers hovered over her keyboard. Did he mean that? Really? She felt a blush reach up her neck and cover her cheeks, making her slap her hands to them, staring wide eyed at her computer. 

 

Pete: Don’t worry about not making friends

Pete: Everyone will love you 

 

Does he love me? Just as she thought that, she recoiled in her chair, reaching and snapping her laptop closed. Did she really just wonder that? They’ve been friends for a couple months, no way he’d casually admit that he loves her. Not like that, at least. 

 

That was awkward. No way would she be able to respond to him now, not when she just asked herself that kind of question. She felt like dying, that was such an inappropriate thought. 

 

She stared at the closed computer for a few seconds before she slowly reached over to open it again, the harsh light making her squint. She should really turn it down some. She stared at Peter’s text, unsure how to go forwards. Should she thank him? Admit that she wanted to be friends at first glance too? This was so painful. 

 

Me: Just 

Me: Please stand by my side 

 

She really didn’t want to be alone, not when she had a choice. Whether Peter agreed to it or not, she’ll be sticking by his side like glue. At least, until she gets the hang of things and is more confident walking through those halls. She was independent, after all, she didn’t want anyone’s help but sometimes it was needed. 

 

Pete: I got you 

Pete: I’ll see you tomorrow, thank you for talking with me 

Pete: It made things better 

Pete: Goodnight 

 

Me: Goodnight

 

Made things better? So she was right to feel apprehensive, he was having a rough night and turned to her to make him feel better. That… strangely made Gwen feel giddy. She bit her lip, closing her computer again, the song in her headphones starting to come to its end. 

 

He also doesn’t have anyone else. 

 

That ruined Gwen’s mood. He probably didn’t want to worry his adopted mother or brother (he still won’t disclose names, was he that private? She’s pretty sure it has something to do with training with Black Widow), so of course he turned to Gwen. 

 

She would’ve done the same, she has done the same. Sometimes life got hard, doesn’t mean she wanted to confide in her parents or grandma. 

 

She got out of her desk chair and walked over to her bed where her phone was charging. She paused the music and raised her arm to turn off the headphones that still covered her ears. She should probably charge them too, it wouldn't hurt anything. 

 

She placed them on its charger and collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment before she turned off her bedside lamp, her glow in the dark stars filling up the expanse of her ceiling. Maybe she bought too much. She sighed, rolling onto her side, staring at her pink curtains, the white shear beneath it making them look puffier.

 

It suddenly felt too hot in her room and she got out of bed and opened her window, letting the cool air hit her. Her blonde hair billowed slightly. 

 

She looked out her window and took in the view. Her grandma might live in the suburbs but her window faced the skyscrapers, the lights shining and blinking, she could almost hear its traffic even being so many miles away from it. Maybe Spider-Man would make an appearance tonight. 

 

Tomorrow will be a good day. Gwen’s lips twitched slightly at the urge to smile, but that was kind of weird, too cinematic of her. She wasn’t in a movie, no need to get sentimental. So she turned around and laid back down in her bed, her TV letting off a soft glow as she finally shut her eyes and fell asleep. 

 

---

 

Gwen ran around her house like crazy. Peter was coming over any minute now and everything had to be perfect. Her grandma was stuck in the kitchen, cooking some tortellini soup and washing dishes as she went. 

 

The soup itself just needed to be stirred every now and then, a classic in her family. Her mother had perfected the dish and they always had it at least once a month. Her grandma started to make it more after The Snap. 

 

Her grandma downsized after Gwen’s grandpa passed away long before she was born; when her mother was still a teenager, living in a townhouse just outside of Midtown. It was more than enough room for her grandma and it fit the two of them perfectly. Hopefully Peter would find it cozy. 

 

The first time she mentioned him to her grandma was the first time the two of them danced together. Her grandma was just thrilled to learn that Gwen gained a new friend and had pressured her to invite him over for dinner. After some time, where Peter and Gwen got more comfortable with one another, they finally took some pictures. 

 

The one she showed her grandma was cute. The two of them had this cat filter on, giving them pink and blue ears and sparkly whiskers. Gwen had her tongue sticking out (much to her grandma’s annoyance, she did not like the fact that Gwen had a tongue piercing) and Peter had his mouth open like he was midlaugh, his thumb and pinky were out while Gwen’s pinky and pointer finger held high. Her grandma made a remark about how they looked like they belonged on a KISS poster and Gwen laughed, sending the picture to Peter before telling her grandma more about her day. 

 

Now, Saturday had arrived and Gwen was just polishing off the already clean house, the soup making her mouth water. She hadn’t eaten at all, feeling way too nervous and wanting to eat as much soup as she could. 

 

“You’re standing on your toes again, dear.” Her grandma smiled. Gwen often walked around on her toes, it’s just something she’s always done since she joined ballet at five years old. Whether she’s cooking, doing laundry, walking around the house, or even doing homework, she’s always on her toes. “How you don’t hurt from that is astonishing.” 

 

Gwen giggled, giving a lazy twirl. “I just got some killer tolerance.” She’s been dancing for more than a decade, of course she wouldn’t feel any pain from casual dancing. But, she did become flat footed again and checked her phone, looking at the time. “He’ll be here soon,” she looked at her grandma as she put down her phone. “I told him 5:30.”

 

With that, three quick knocks sounded at the door. Her grandma motioned for Gwen to open it, looking polite and composed. Gwen didn’t feel composed. Not at all. But she heaved the door open and there stood Peter, looking just as nervous as she felt. His brown hair was brushed, his outfit reminding Gwen that he’s just a dorky teenage boy. 

 

But in his hands is what surprised Gwen the most. A simple red tulip. She looked back and forth between it and Peter, at a loss for words. Was it for her? 

 

Peter apparently read her mind as he held it out for her, smiling very awkwardly. “I-uh, didn’t ask before if I should bring anything, and I was kind of already on my way here when I realized that. Like, down the street, so, um, here. I thought this could work.” 

 

Gwen numbly took it, unsure how to proceed. He brought her a flower? That… was sweet of him. “Thank you.” She smiled at him, she was sure her cheeks were almost as red as the tulip. “It’s beautiful, Peter.” 

 

“That works out just fine, young man.” Gwen felt her grandma's hand push her gently to the side, her eyes never leaving Peter’s face. He smiled brightly at her grandma, reaching out a hand for her to take. “Very handsome boy you are.” 

 

Peter blinked and Gwen would have laughed if she still wasn’t so touched by his gesture. “Th-thank you, ma’am.” When her grandma’s hand shook Peter’s, he continued. “Nice to meet you, I’m Peter Parker.” 

 

“The pleasure is all mine, Peter. I’m Daphne Pase, Gwen’s grandma.” Daphne smiled brightly, tugging Peter out of the entryway. He took his shoes off and the two left Gwen at the door, her hands still gently holding the tulip. He didn’t have to bring anything anyways, he was the one invited; he was the guest. But the fact that he still did? Even if it was just a flower? Gwen bit her lip to stop from smiling, her cheeks still hot. “Gwen, dear, come here!” Her grandma called from the kitchen. 

 

She snapped to attention, immediately joining the two. Daphne was telling Peter about her soup, asking if he’d like to have garlic bread with it. “Oh, that’s okay, Miss Pase, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.” 

 

“Nonsense, Peter,” she waved him off, preheating the oven. “We have it all the time with this soup.” 

 

“It is really good.” Gwen agreed, grabbing an empty flower vase from under the sink. She began to fill it up with water and placed the tulip in it, setting it beside the sink that was placed in front of a large window. “You’ll love it.” 

 

“We’ll be able to eat in ten minutes.” Daphne smiled, clapping her hands together as she stared at Peter. “I hope you’re hungry.” 

 

“Starved.” Peter grinned back. “Is there anything I can help with in the meantime?” 

 

“Yes, actually.” Gwen cocked her head to the side. What else was there to do? The soup was done, the oven was in the middle of preheating, dishes were put away. “You can help me get to know you, young man.”

 

Oh, okay. Gwen shrugged, grabbing a stool and sitting at the kitchen island, Peter slowly following her lead. “Well,” he held onto his hands, they still shook. Ever since she’s met him, his hands kept shaking and she never wanted to ask why, she didn’t want to come off as rude or pushy. “What would you like to know?” 

 

“Are you from Queens?” Daphne asked, grabbing an apple slice that was on the island, available for anyone to grab and munch on. 

 

“I am, yeah.” Peter smiled. “Born and raised, ma’am.” 

 

“Bet you see that Spider-Boy swinging around all the time, huh?” Her grandma inquired. “I’ve lived here for a few good years and I’ve only seen him from afar when I’m doing my shopping.” 

 

“It’s Spider-Man, Grandma.” Gwen giggled. She’s only ever seen the arachnid themed hero in videos or newspaper clippings. Her father would always watch the news whenever the hero was featured and was glad they didn’t live too close to where the hero operates (“a menace vigilante” her father said). “Maybe if you wave your arms he’ll swing down to give you a high five.” She joked, Peter snorting next to her. 

 

“Or if you steal a bike.” Peter added, gaining another round of giggles from her. 

 

“Oh, you two are funny.” Daphne chuckled, grabbing the frozen garlic bread and broke them apart, placing them on a cookie sheet. “Where do you go to school?” Right back to interrogating. 

 

“Midtown Tech,” Peter answered, leaning forwards a little. “I got a scholarship before middle school ended, it’s a really nice school.” He looked at Gwen, and she saw as his smile got bigger. “You’ll love it, I swear.” 

 

She nodded. She appreciates his assurances but that doesn’t make her hesitance and nervousness go away. 

 

“Oh, so you’re a smart one.” Daphne acknowledged, washing her hands after handling the frozen bread, looking at Peter once again. “Thinking about college?” 

 

Gwen looked from her grandma to Peter, awaiting his answer. She’s always thought of going to Empire State, seeing as they have a pretty awesome biochemistry program and, not to brag, she is pretty great at the subject. 

 

But then there’s being a professional ballerina, she’s already had so many years dedicated to the sport, being the best of the best at her age is no small feat. To be in so many ballet productions and to honor her mother by wearing her old shoes (statistically, pointe shoes are supposed to be thrown away after so many hours of use, how the teal ones are still intact is beyond Gwen) and continuing to dance.

 

But, and this is a stretch, being a musician has also been a dream of hers. She knows how to play the drums and she’s learning the guitar. She can write and sing, why wouldn’t being a rockstar be on her list? Finding band members would be hard but not impossible, she could do it. Maybe people at this new school would be interested? 

 

She could dream. 

 

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” Peter nodded. “Thinking about going to MIT.” MIT? She’s briefly thought about it, but nothing too serious. MIT is a great technology school, but their biochemistry courses weren’t their top priority. “I’m really good at science, and tech, and just… working with my hands, you know? So I was thinking about getting a physics degree, maybe an engineering one too, and working my way up to a doctorate.” 

 

“Really?” Gwen saw the way her grandma's smile widened. “Gweny was thinking about ESU, a biochemistry degree.” 

 

“It’s just an idea, nothing has been decided yet.” She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous to talk about this, it wasn’t like this hasn’t been a topic of conversation before. Her grandma knows of the other two options, but she feels pressured to go with the option that everyone thinks is best for her, not what she already enjoys. 

 

“You’re a smart girl, Gweny, I say you should go for it.” Daphne turned around and put the bread in the oven, leaving Gwen to mess around with her tongue jewelry. She could feel Peter’s eyes on her, but she continued to stare down at her hands that rested on the counter. She should get her nails done soon, it’s been awhile. 

 

Last time she did, it was with her mom… 

 

“How’s ballet going?” Bless Peter for the change of subject. 

 

She looked up at him and stopped toying with her jewelry. “Classes don’t start until September, we’re doing The Nutcracker.” She turned her body to face him, suddenly feeling a lot better than she did a moment ago. “I’ve done it a few times, I was always a snow fairy.” 

 

She was also seven and nine when her ballet school did The Nutcracker, so she and a bunch of girls her age were the little background fairies, “you girls are just as cute as any fairy should be” her instructor told her. 

 

“Hope to be the lead?” He asked, she saw a small smile form on his lips as he leaned forwards a little. The urge to blush struck her like a truck, this teenage boy was interested in her hobby; passion actually, and he wasn’t being weird about it. 

 

Talk about bare minimum. 

 

“Um, well,” she cleared her throat. “Yeah, it’d be pretty fun to be Clara or even the Sugar Plum Fairy, her costume design is so cute, and it just gets better every time the production is done.” She word vomited. “The pinks and pastels, the gemstones that are infused with the tutu and the corset, and the way they make her costume look so regal is-”

 

“I think she’d rather be the Sugar Plum Fairy than Clara.” Daphne joked with Peter, Gwen actually going red in the face. She smiled, hiding her face in her hands, shaking her head. “It starts in September but you’ll be performing it on Christmas Eve, correct?” 

 

“Woah, wait,” Peter sat up straighter on his stool. “You only have three months to work on it?” 

 

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded. “Then we move on to the next show. We do three a year.” December, March, and June, that's how it’s always been for Gwen and long before her time as well. “We just don't know what the other two will be yet.” 

 

“I thought that you’d get the entire year.” Peter said. “You do all that ballet on top of school?” 

 

“Yup.” Gwen popped. It was all she knew, all she’s done since she’s started school; kindergarten. “We get two days off a week so it’s not bad.” 

 

“You’re a dancer too, right?” Daphne asked him, the bread in the oven was almost done. “Gwen said she saw you dancing at the same studio she goes to.” 

 

Peter nodded, sparing a glance at Gwen. “Yeah, yeah, but I’m nowhere near her level. She’s amazing.” 

 

Gwen ducked her head again, hoping it was coming off as subtle as she hoped as her grandma continued to ask Peter more questions. “So you do it just for fun?” 

 

Gwen peeked up at that, seeing the way Peter hesitated, looking like he was thinking over the proper way to answer that question. Gwen never thought he did ballet for fun, if dancing with Natasha Romanov said anything. Who was Peter Parker? Why did Black Widow care enough to train him in dance? 

 

Finally, Peter spoke. “Just a new experience.” He nodded, like he was trying to convince them by looking so sure of himself. “A nice way to let off steam. It really is fun.” 

 

“Well, speaking of steam,” Daphne pulled the bread out of the oven and placed it on an oven mit, taking the cover off the crockpot where the soup bubbled slightly. “Once it cools, we can eat.” 

 

The three of them chatted for a little bit longer before Daphne announced that they could dish up, setting out the bowls and spoons, and a few small plates for the bread as well. Gwen gestured for Peter to go first, seeing as he’s their guest. But he shook his head, insisting that Gwen can go. 

 

“Ladies first,” Peter smiled, and Gwen could swear she saw a hint of smugness in his grin as he let Daphne go ahead of him. “I won’t be rude.” 

 

She rolled her eyes but otherwise grabbed the ladle, setting her bowl on the counter and reaching for the bowl in her grandma's hand. She poured her grandma a good amount, smiling when Daphne patted her cheek in thanks. 

 

Daphne moved on and Gwen stayed put, smirking at Peter while she held her hand out expectantly. All he had to do was put his bowl in her hand and she could pour him some, she already has the ladle in hand, the least she could do was pour him some soup. 

 

But he didn’t, instead, he matched her smirk. “Are you going to get yourself some soup or keep standing there?” 

 

“I can stand here all day, it all depends on if you’re going to be stubborn or not.” She retorted, looking up at him. “Give me your bowl.” 

 

Peter shook his head. “No, thank you.”

 

“Peter.” 

 

“Gwen.” 

 

“You two stop being silly,” Daphne walked over and grabbed the ladle from Gwen’s hand, quickly taking Peter’s bowl from his hand and scooped some soup into the bowls. “There you two go.” 

 

Gwen and Peter watched as Daphne walked back to the dining room, the two of them quiet. She didn’t mean to be loud enough for her grandma to hear, she kind of feels bad. 

 

She and Peter looked at each other before grabbing their meals, joining Daphne at the table. Daphne sat at the head while Peter sat on her right and Gwen was on her left. The three of them ate quietly, savoring the food. 

 

“This is really good, Ms. Pase.” Peter complimented after a few bites. “Thank you.” 

 

“My pleasure, Peter.” Daphne nodded, putting some more pepper into her soup. “I must thank you for joining us tonight, it means a lot.” 

 

“It was no problem.” Peter smiled, stirring his soup before getting a noodle on his spoon. “It was nice getting out of the house.” He popped his spoon in his mouth. 

 

“Where do you live?” Daphne took a bite of her bread. “In town?” 

 

“I, uh, I used to,” Peter’s voice quieted a smidge. “Before The Snap.” He looked down at his bowl. “I lived with my aunt, she was a nurse at the hospital.” That was news to Gwen, she didn’t know he lived with his aunt. 

 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Gwen saw Daphne reach to pat Peter's shoulder. “So do you live with other family now?” 

 

Peter shook his head, his eyes sad. “Nope, no. My parents, um, passed away when I was four, and my grandparents passed away long before I was born. I had no aunts or uncles on my moms side and I only had my uncle on my dads.” He licked his lips. “So I was put into my uncle's care, my aunt married into the family a few years before I was born.” 

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Daphne said solemnly. 

 

Blame Gwen’s lack of filter, or her morbid curiosity, but she couldn’t help the next thing that she blurted out. “What happened to your uncle?” She asked. “You said you just lived with your aunt, what happened to him?” 

 

Peter looked up at her, his eyes were hard to read but she didn’t detect any discomfort or anger, only sadness. “He was killed a few years ago.” He answered, his voice slightly broke. “A robbery at a bodega. He… got shot.” 

 

She regrets asking. Or maybe she didn’t. He was willing to share, and sometimes admitting to things such as this was good for the soul. 

 

“So,” Peter sighed. “It was just me and Aunt May, she was all I had and vice versa.” He set his spoon down against the rim of his bowl, not meeting anyone’s eyes anymore. “By marriage, we were the last Parker’s. But realistically, I’m the last one. I have no one.” He whispered, no longer looking like he was present with Gwen and her grandma.

 

Gwen didn’t know what to do, Peter sat like a statue, his eyes were staring into the table like he was in a trance, he didn’t even look like he was breathing. She shouldn’t have asked him such a personal question, she should’ve just let it be and leave the rest up for interpretation. 

 

“Peter,” Daphne spoke softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Peter, look at me.” His eyes shifted and he stared at Daphne, still not moving. “It’s okay, just breathe.” 

 

Gwen looked down at Peter’s chest and saw that he was. It was a small movement but it was there all the same. She looked at his face again and while Peter didn't look like he was freaking out or lost in his mind, his brown eyes looked so sad. 

 

“You aren’t alone.” Daphne said. “Gwen told me you still have some people, people that you’ve grown closer to.” She moved her hand from his shoulder to his wrist. “You have an adopted mother, right? And brother? Gwen also said that your adopted mom is expecting?” 

 

Peter nodded, using his hand that isn’t being touched by Gwen’s grandma to rub his eyes. “Y-yeah.” He breathed. “She’s gonna be four months, in, uh, a few weeks.” He said, looking at his soup. “And my-my brother is trying out for… um, his school's baseball team on Tuesday.” 

 

Daphne let go of Peter’s wrist. “Are you going to try out for sports?” 

 

Peter shook his head. “Um, no,” he said. “I… I’m busy with uh, things. No time for sports.” He breathed in deeply, still not looking at Gwen or Daphne. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I made tonight weird-”

 

“No, no you didn’t.” Gwen didn’t mean to interrupt but it was true. She wouldn’t have if it wasn’t something she strongly believed. “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry.” 

 

“I was going to tell you anyways,” Peter finally met Gwen’s eyes, looking at her sincerely. “It probably would’ve gone the same way.” He laughed awkwardly and Gwen felt inclined to join on. “But really, it… was something I realized a while ago but didn’t really process. But saying it again, it's just…” 

 

“We get it, it’s okay.” Daphne smiled reassuringly, starting to eat her meal again. “We all have those days.” 

 

Peter nodded and picked up his spoon again, his hand shaky. Gwen watched, moving to bite her lip while trying to think of a conversation that would perk Peter’s mood up again. So, she talked about school. She asked about decathlon, seeing as she saw that was an after school thing that looked interesting. Peter was apparently on the team, freshman and sophomore year. 

 

“Are you going to do it again?” Gwen asked, finishing her soup. 

 

“Yeah, I think so.” Peter smiled, looking at ease. Gwen mentally patted herself on the back. “Mr. Harrington coaches it, but… my friend MJ was the captain.” He blinked hard but still smiled. “My best friend Ned was on the team with me.” 

 

She’s heard of MJ and Ned, the two that Peter called his best friends. Based on the pictures and videos he’s shown her, they seemed rather cool and fun, she wishes she could have met them. 

 

“My… friends weren’t in anything with me.” Gwen contributed. “I had three, three close friends.” She toyed with her spoon, trying to ignore her grandma's eyes. “Maya was in swim, she was very good, she wanted to go to nationals.” She looked at Peter again. “Camile was more into gaming, she was thinking about becoming a streamer for some extra cash.” Plus, she told Gwen she wanted to become a meme, apparently that was the main goal. “And Lexi liked to write, she was on the speech team. She got a lot of ribbons for her work.” Gwen wanted Peter to know that she gets it. She might still have her grandma, but that’s all she has. 

 

All her friends, her parents, and brothers were gone. She had to move five hours away from her old life and start a new one. Everyone is still hurting and Gwen hopes the pain goes away soon, because she doesn’t want to live her life like this anymore. 

 

“But we all clicked.” She continued. “It took awhile, but we got there.” She won’t ever see her friends again, and neither will Peter. It’s the hard truth, but they just need to keep going one step at a time. “I get it, Peter.” She whispered. 

 

She felt her grandma’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing it firmly. Dinner wasn’t supposed to be sad, or sorrowful, whatever. It was supposed to be a learning opportunity, and while she did learn new things about Peter, she hoped it would be happy things. 

 

Can’t have the happy without the sad. 

 

---

 

Peter swung home that night, texting Happy that he didn’t need a ride. He wanted to clear his head, let the wind hit his face and free fall until the very last second, catching himself on his web and flinging himself back up into the air. He was lucky he decided to bring his suit, just in case anything went wrong while he was with Gwen. 

 

Just the thought of her and their dinner made him want to scream into a pillow. He didn’t have a breakdown or a panic attack but still, he felt like he ruined the night. Gwen and Daphne insisted that he didn’t, and they even ended up having some nice conversations afterwards where they laughed and joked around. 

 

But he was still embarrassed. 

 

“Yo!” He heard someone below him shout as he perched on the side of a building. “Spider-Man!” He looked down and saw a civilian cheering at him, clapping. Those around the civilian looked up and pointed, some whispers and whistles were exchanged and Peter waved at them. 

 

“Can I get your autograph?!” One kid shouted. Peter’s eyes followed to where the yell came from and saw a young boy, maybe nine or ten, looking up at him. 

 

These people are still cheering for him? Even after all these months where he just… disappeared and sporadically made appearances? He felt his heart constrict and he let go of the building, freefalling until he got uncomfortably too close to the ground. He shot a web and slowly lowered himself to be with the crowd that made some room for him to land. 

 

He looked around until he saw the boy, looking at him with awe. “You said you wanted an autograph?” Peter crouched. “You got a pen and paper, buddy? I don't exactly have pockets.” He joked. 

 

The boy laughed and nodded, turning to a woman that stood beside him. Peter reckoned that she was the kids' mother. “Mami, I don’t have anything.” He heard the boy whisper. 

 

She rolled her eyes playfully but dug through her purse, pulling out a sharpie and a sticky note. “This is all I have, mijo.” She said, almost apologetically. 

 

“It’s usually all I have too,” Spider-Man took the sticky note and marker. “I mean, when I’m not in red and blue spandex.” Once again the crowd chuckled and Peter wondered if it’s because he was actually funny, or because he was Spider-Man, Queens hero, and they felt obligated to. 

 

He quickly signed his name, adding a little drawing of his mask at the bottom, right below his signature, and handed it to the boy. 

 

“Wow!” The boy gasped, his smile big and bright. “Thank you!” His moms hand dropped to his shoulder, a clear indication that it was time to go. 

 

“You’re welcome.” Peter made sure to keep his voice light and friendly, standing back to his full height, hands on his hips to maybe look more confident than he felt. “You be good, listen to your mom, alright?” 

 

The boy's mom smiled at Peter, the boy nodded enthusiastically and let his mom pull him away to continue walking down the sidewalk, staring the living daylights out of Peter’s autograph. 

 

Watching them made Peter distantly think of a memory of his own mother. They often took walks together, Peter’s hand always holding Mary’s as she would tell him about her day, ask him questions about his daycare and what he got up to there. 

 

The boy is a lot older than Peter was when Mary and Richard passed away, but that was such a clear memory for Peter, it is one he’ll always hold close. 

 

He shook himself out of his stupor rather quickly before it became weird, conversing with others that were still there, taking selfies and giving high-fives. It brought his mood back up to how it was before The Snap and it felt nice. Maybe he can continue to keep going and, dare he admit, move on and go back on the path he made for himself. 

 

He wandered into the grass, time to head back on the dirt trail. 

 

---

 

Harley’s tryouts were private, so Peter and Pepper waited outside the school, the fields hidden as the school kind of encased them, leaving no room to watch unless they wanted to trudge through the massive lawns and have the risk of getting caught by the coaches. 

 

So, the two waited in the less conspicuous car that Pepper owns in comfortable silence. Pepper worked on some SI documents on her StarkPad while Peter fiddled on Instagram. He had two accounts, one being Spider-Man while the other was dedicated to Peter Parker. 

 

On his Spidey account (as it’s literally just called Spidey), he usually posts pictures of the skyline or cool stunts he does as Spider-Man, sometimes graffiti he finds, or sketches he does himself (usually consisting of a cute spider or his mask) on paper or with chalk, or an occasional picture with a fan that mentions being put on his Instagram. 

 

But for Peter Parker, it’s pictures of him and his friends, usually aesthetically pleasing as that’s the overall vibe he wants. While one account is verified with three million followers, the other is with only two thousand and some followers. 

 

He would so love to post pictures of Pepper or Harley, the family photos of the fun nights they have as a small family. Or tag Rhodey and Happy in a couple pictures or videos they take. All without having to worry about other people and bring attention to himself or the others that wasn’t necessary. 

 

Gwen was in the latest picture he posted. He took it the day after he was invited over for dinner. They were in a subway, waiting for their train to take them to New Haven because Gwen had wanted to go shopping there. Peter had propped his phone up against a support column and he crouched in front of Gwen, her stance wide while they both made Spider-Man hands, she had her tongue sticking out while he smirked, both of them wearing sunglasses. 

 

He edited it a bit, putting a cool filter on that made the picture look like it was taken with an old polaroid camera. The post quickly got quite a few likes, more than usual since he tagged Gwen and she wasn’t lacking in the follower department either. 

 

“How’s training with Natasha going?” Pepper spoke, not looking away from her work. Peter shrugged, scrolling through his feed. He found out that Abe and Charles are still around and all thanks to this oh so wonderful app. The two have been posting random pictures, sometimes memes to their stories. 

 

He was never really close to Abe or Charles, and he can only imagine that the two weren’t really buddy-buddy either. The three of them only hung around each other because of decathlon, never before and never after. 

 

“Pretty good,” Peter answered, quietly tapping his foot to the beat of the song that was playing on the radio. “I think I’ve gotten way better than how I was in June.” 

 

“A few months can make a difference.” Pepper agreed. “Think I’ll be able to watch you soon?” 

 

Peter perked up, putting his phone down. “You want to?” Pepper looked up and smiled, but Peter didn’t give her the chance to answer. “Yeah! I can see if Natasha would allow it, I don’t think she’d mind.” 

 

They continued to chat and work on their devices, the air conditioning felt nice and Peter had an ounce of sympathy for Harley. New York’s heat was killer today, he could already smell Harley’s sweat. 

 

“Oh,” Pepper shut off her StarkPad and turned to face him as best she could in the car. “How’s your medication treating you?”

 

That made Peter’s blood run cold. “…why?” 

 

Pepper shrugged innocently. “Just curious.”

 

Curious? Yeah, right. Peter knows he hasn’t been acting his normal self, not since The Snap. But who was? Months later, everyone is still grieving, no one is just going to accept what happened and act like it was a minor inconvenience like losing a chapstick. 

 

Yes, he had a little meltdown on his birthday. Yes, he wasn’t fully present with Pepper when she visited him later that night. And yes, he got a little lost in his head when he had dinner with Gwen and Daphne.

 

But he was honestly fine. Why couldn’t anyone see that?

 

“I can see it every time I look into your eyes, you know.” Pepper spoke softly as he remained silent. “You’re hurting and you won’t talk to anyone-”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared out the window. “You’re sad, Harley’s sad, everyone is sad,” he turned his head to look at her. “Why am I being singled out?” 

 

“You’re more than just sad and I can feel it.” She still spoke gently, and Peter felt irritation spike up his chest. “Neither Harley and I were lost in space for three weeks, neither of us fought Thanos, and neither of us is Spider-Man.” He stared at her, unblinking. “You’ve had the weight of the world on your shoulders since you got bit when you were fourteen, I know that you think Tony should’ve stayed, that May, Ned, MJ should be here instead of you. But they’d be just as upset, guilty, and lost without you.” 

 

With every point Pepper made, Peter felt his heart pound until it felt like it was going to explode into tiny little pieces. Pepper wasn’t wrong. He never told her any of what he thought, but she was right. 

 

“I want you to talk to Dr. Cho about seeing a therapist,” Pepper continued. “And I don’t care if you want to talk to someone or not, because all I want is for you to feel okay again.”

 

“I haven’t felt okay in a long time, Pepper.” He heard himself mumble. When he was younger it was more bearable, but the constant guilt of being put into his aunt and uncle's care was never ending and hard to manage at a young age. As he got older, he got better at hiding it but then Ben died and now May… yeah, it’s been a while since he’s felt truly okay. 

 

“Then this will help.” She assured him, the sun continued shining into the car and it lit up her hair. “I just want what’s best for you, you know that, right?”

 

Peter nodded slowly. What’s best for him? She’s already done so much for him. She took him in, fed him, considered him her baby’s brother, she pays for his medication, she cares for him and loves him. 

 

That guilt he’s felt since he was a kid was rearing its ugly head again but this time, it was bigger and meaner, it almost felt like multiple punches. He looked away and stared at the school, the architect was impressive. Harley would like it here. 

 

He licked his lips, still not looking at Pepper. He didn’t feel like arguing. “Okay.” 

 

He felt her put her hand on his head and rubbed her thumb up and down, like she was trying to soothe him. She pulled away and grabbed her StarkPad again. “Harley is bound to make the team.” 

 

Thank you. He did not want to keep talking about himself, it was getting torturous. “We should celebrate.” 

 

“Without question.” Pepper agreed. He finally looked at her again and saw her smiling at him. “We could always go out to eat. Wherever he wants.” 

 

“That’s dangerous.” Peter smirked. Harley has a love for restaurants that are notorious for being… not so good, to put it nicely. “Might get food poisoning again.” 

 

Pepper groaned, putting her hands on her stomach, like she was remembering her unlucky week in June. “Don’t remind me.” 

 

Peter laughed and that’s when he felt his phone buzz a few times against his leg. Picking it up, he saw that he was getting more likes on his and Gwen’s picture. But below all those notifications, there was one that caught his eye.

 

Cindy made a group chat on Instagram with him, Sally, Abe, and Charles. So Sally and Cindy were still around too, huh? He stared at it a few times, wondering if he should even reply. None of them have reached out to each other before, this was kind of weird. 

 

☾Cindy☽: Hey guys

 

He tapped on the notification and it brought him straight to the chat. He wasn’t the only one as he saw that the other three had read her message as well. 

 

Bubbles popped up next to Sally’s profile picture. The bubbles disappeared a few times over the course of a minute but Peter stayed put, not sure if he could physically make himself tap out of the chat. 

 

Sal-E:  hi

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Wazzup 

 

☾Cindy☽: just wanted to make sure you guys were ok

 

A B E: idk about ok

A B E: Still breathing, so 

 

Peter watched as the four texted back and forth, not even sure why he was still in the chat. He hovered his thumb over the “leave” button, ready to press it when he saw that his name was brought up. 

 

Sal-E: Why’d you reach out? 

 

☾Cindy☽: I got a notification that Peter posted for the first time in forever and I haven’t been on insta since our last field trip and I started to look through my following

☾Cindy☽: Just wanted to check to see who’s here and who isn’t

 

KanyeDeezNuts: U tellin me that u haven’t been on insta since the snap?

 

☾Cindy☽: You’re telling me that you HAVE been on insta and never reached out? 

 

A B E:  Oohhhhhhhh

 

Sal-E: She got you she got you

 

☾Cindy☽: Anyways

 

☾Cindy☽: Peter, quit stalking and start talking

 

Shit. Well, it was good while it lasted. What does he even say? He really hasn’t been on social media until recently, he didn’t even think to try to reach out to classmates. 

 

After toying with ideas, he finally started typing. 

 

⌞Pete⌝: I’m more of an observer 

 

KanyeDeezNuts: He lives 

 

A B E:  Peettterrrr

A B E: Where ya been man

 

⌞Pete⌝: Ya know 

⌞Pete⌝: Around 

 

Sal-E: How omnious of you 

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Question 

KanyeDeezNuts: Who is that girl ur with

 

A B E: Oh yeah the blonde 

A B E: SHW looks intereting 

A B E: She*

A B E: Interesting*

A B E: Damn :/

 

Somehow, he knew that was going to be brought up. He quickly swiped out of the chat and looked back at the post, him crouched in front of her, her legs wide apart as they made the Spider-Man hand pose, the picture getting many many likes. 

 

Swiping back in the chat, he began to type. 

 

⌞Pete⌝: Gwen, a new friend 

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Ahhh Gweennn

KanyeDeezNuts: Her profil is kool 

KanyeDeezNuts: profile* 

KanyeDeezNuts: Abe’s sickness spread to me 

 

A B E: COUGH COUGH

 

Peter bit back a laugh, watching as more bubbles popped up from Sally’s profile picture. 

 

Sal-E: She dances? 

Sal-E: And can play instruments???

Sal-E: She’s way out of your league. 

 

What the fuck? Peter wasn’t sure where the hate could’ve come from but here it was. Sally was usually brash, Peter supposed, so he’ll let it slide. This time.

 

A B E: Woah Sally calm down?? Maybe??

A B E: She’s srs she put a period down and everything

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Ur hate aura is blinding 

 

☾Cindy☽: You guys are so annoying 

☾Cindy☽: But I agree, Gwen does look cool

 

⌞Pete⌝: She’ll be coming to Midtown this year 

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Fresh meat

 

☾Cindy☽: Annoooyinngggg

 

KayneDeezNuts: U literally love me

 

☾Cindy☽: Um?

☾Cindy☽: No?

 

KanyeDeezNuts: U break my heart baby

 

A B E: Yoo?? This is gettin weird 

 

Sal-E: It’s been weird

Sal-E: When is the schedule and supply list supposed to be out?

Sal-E: It’s already the 14th 

 

He honestly wasn’t sure, usually both would be out by now but this year isn’t exactly normal. But he quickly checked his email, and even asked Pepper if she got anything. She responded with a shake of her head and Peter went back to Instagram. 

 

⌞Pete⌝: Never

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Free period all year 

 

A B E: God has finally answered 

 

⌞Pete⌝: #blessed #survivor

 

☾Cindy☽: Do you guys just not go to the school website? It says it’ll be emailed on the 20th this year 

 

Sal-E: That actually stresses me out 

 

☾Cindy☽: MOOD 

 

The groupchat continued on and Peter found himself rather enjoying it. Maybe the five of them would be actual friends this year and not just decathlon teammates. He smiled to himself a few times at what the chat was saying, how involved he was. 

 

But eventually, everyone had to go as they were called away by responsibilities and Peter found himself feeling less stressed than he was before. It felt nice. 

 

He swiped back to his recent post and clicked on Gwen’s username that was tagged. Her account pulled up and he found himself scrolling through her pictures before he saw the last post with her and her friends. Maya, Camile, and Lexi. 

 

They were outside a museum and they all stood arm-in-arm, smiling brightly at the camera. He zoomed into Gwen’s face, seeing the way her lips curved into a smile he sees every time he’s with her. He loved her smile.

 

He blinked hard and suddenly swiped out of Instagram entirely, shutting off his phone. That… was weird. Totally weird. Thinking about that. He shrugged to himself and looked back out the window just in time to see boys walk out of the school and start getting into cars. 

 

He then saw Harley and Peter opened the car door, going to meet Harley half way. He watched Harley’s body language, as he was unable to see his face as Harley had his head down, his baseball cap covering his face. He silently thanked Natasha’s training. 

 

Harley wasn’t slouched, he didn’t hold defeat in his shoulders. As Peter got closer, Harley’s head picked up and he beamed at Peter. 

 

Peter smiled back and reached to wrap an arm over Harley’s shoulders, bringing the younger teen in for a sideways hug as they walked back to the car together. 

 

“I told you that you’d do great.” Peter smiled down at the younger teen. “Guess this means you’ll be picking where we eat tonight.” 

 

“Wait, seriously?” Harley looked up, his old glove hanging loosely from his hand. “Pepper said?”

 

Peter nodded. “Oh, yeah, she did.” 

 

Harley’s grin turned somewhat evil and Peter almost felt nervous. He hoped Harley didn’t pick anywhere too bad, for both his and Pepper’s sake. 

 

“Awesome.” 

 

---

 

Peter petted Millie absentmindedly as he reviewed his Russian textbook that Natasha assigned him. He believed he was getting the hang of it but learning Russian wasn’t exactly easy. He’d have to ask her about it on Friday. 

 

It was currently August 22nd he just got home from dance practice with her and Gwen. It was fun, but Natasha had him work out some muscles he hasn’t really thought of before, so he was a bit sore this time around. 

 

He and Harley will also be going back-to-school shopping on Friday, after training with Natasha. Pepper had recently sat them down and gave them a budget that was totally outrageous. Six hundred dollars each? Peter about had a heart attack. 

 

“Retained anything from that yet?” Pepper asked as she sat on the love seat couch, kitty corner to the one he was sitting on. 

 

“A few phrases.” He answered, hearing her eat her apple. “I can say hello, goodbye, my name is, the days, the weather.” 

 

“Introduce yourself to me,” Pepper said. “And tell me what day it is, and how the weather is.” 

 

He raised an eyebrow, looking at her. “Really?” 

 

She smirked, taking another bite. “Good practice.” 

 

He sighed but shut his textbook, still petting Millie’s head. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Здравствуйте, меня зовут Питер. Это было 22 августа 2018 года. Солнечно.” He was pretty sure his pronunciation was terrible but at least he said what he meant to say. Hello, my name is Peter. It is August 22, 2018. Sunny. 

 

Pepper looked impressed, slowly chewing her apple. “Okay, nice.” She nodded at the textbook. “That big book only taught you that much?” 

 

Peter huffed out a laugh. “Pretty much.” He spared another look at Pepper. “Wonderful use of my time.” 

 

“I bet.” 

 

Pepper got up off the couch and walked to the kitchen, leaving him and Millie alone in the living room once again. The textbook remained on his lap, untouched. He sighed, putting it on the coffee table in front of him and instead, took out his phone and looked over his schedule again. 

 

Mrs. Warren and Mr. Harrington are the only two teachers that remained, everyone else looked new to Peter. Mr. Wilson was no longer here to teach gym class, it was now someone named Mr. Lorand. 

 

There was a Mr. Dell that was teaching math, a Ms. Ardine who was teaching history and English. Mrs. Warren was still teaching physics and Mr. Harrington was still Peter’s chemistry teacher. 

 

Since it is a STEM school, their classes are longer. Longer the class, the fewer there are. It’s great. But unfortunately, due to the teacher shortage, some classes weren’t to be expected this year or a teacher was expected to teach more than one subject; Ms. Ardine for example. Like language classes, or any art classes, and he tried not to be too disappointed. 

 

He put his phone away and stared at Millie, who was sleeping with her head on his thigh. He kept petting her, her fur soft under his calloused hands. Sometimes, he wished he was a dog. Maybe life would be easier. 

 

The sound of Harley’s footsteps from upstairs broke him out of his thoughts and he watched as Harley walked down the stairs. “What’s for dinner?” 

 

Peter shrugged. “She’s in the kitchen.” 

 

Harley walked past him, Peter and Millie alone again. He stared at the Russian textbook, he should really keep studying but the TV was calling his name. Natasha would want him to study, but he had to put himself first. 

 

TV it is. 

Notes:

Tried to slip a little of 2018 slang into it, I was, like, 14 in 2018 and it’s kinda hard to remember ALL the memes and events (like the black hole being discovered? Completely forgot about that till now)

Hope you guys enjoyed all my word vomit!!🩷

Chapter 10

“Hey, Tommy Bridges, how’d practice go?” Peter asked from the car as Harley made his way out of Brooklyn High School. He didn’t really drive a whole lot, seeing as he didn’t need to. Subways were a thing, believe it or not. School was never far from his apartment, and he always Spider-Manned after school and swung everywhere so driving was never something he did. 

 

Doesn’t mean he didn’t have his license though.

 

“You actually know who that is?” Harley asked, opening the back door and threw his backpack on the seat.

 

“I know a few things, believe it or not.” Peter teased, waiting for Harley to hop in the front seat with him. “So?” He prompted. 

 

“It was okay,” Harley took his cap off and started to fan himself with it. The windows were down but Peter could only go so fast in a school zone so the wind wasn’t much help. “I think I may have made a new friend.” 

 

“About time,” Peter mused, ignoring Harley’s huff of exasperation. “You were getting annoying, always tailing after me.” 

 

“You’ll miss it.” Harley sighed longingly, almost in a singing like manner. “Oh, my big brother will miss it.” 

 

“Shut up,” Peter laughed. “We’re not in a Hallmark movie.” He paused. “It’s summer.” 

 

Harley barked out his own laughter. The two boys have a shared displeasure for Hallmark movies, especially Christmas themed ones, so they often made fun of them. Pepper loved them but it was often vetoed on family movie nights. 

 

“Can we get Starbucks?” Harley asked as the two just passed one. Peter thought it over for a second, it has been a while since he’s had a coffee. “I’m dying of thirst.” 

 

“I can see that.” Peter switched lanes, away from the lane that would lead them to the bridge that would take them out of the city. “Don’t get any decay on the seats, they’re custom.” 

 

“Custom my ass.” Harley shook his head, snickering. Peter drove a couple more blocks before the next Starbucks was seen. He pulled up in the drive through, a car was in front of them ordering. 

 

Eventually, they ordered and got their drinks, driving back to the bridge that would take them home. Music blasted (well, to Peter it sounded like it was being blasted. Super hearing is no joke) as they crossed the bridge, waiting at a stoplight to officially deem them out of the city. 

 

“Tell me about this potential new friend.” Peter said, turning the music down some. “Is he nice?” 

 

“Yeah,” Harley shrugged. “He’s okay.” Harley took a sip of his smoothie, the slurping was somewhat grating on Peter’s ears. “His name is Aaron, he’s funny.” 

 

Peter nodded, lightly strumming his fingers on the wheel to the beat of the song. “Same grade?” 

 

Harley nodded. “Yeah.” 

 

“Look at us,” Peter quickly shot Harley a smile. “Making friends.” 

 

“You sure Gwen is just a friend?” Harley teased and Peter sighed so deeply, he felt it in his soul. Why is everyone making a fuss about him being friends with her? Was it just because she’s a girl? Then why wasn’t it the same story with MJ? “Woah, okay, no need to be dramatic.” 

 

Peter raised an eyebrow at Harley but didn’t say anything. The drive continued on and soon, they found themselves in the woods, the road turning from asphalt to rocky gravel. Little roads branched off from the main one, indicating someone’s long driveway. 

 

Soon, Peter took a left, their mailbox standing in the grass. Getting the mail will be fun in the winter, Peter is already cringing at the idea. Their driveway was no longer than their neighbors, which meant it was long. Kind of annoying, if Peter were being honest with himself. 

 

As they pulled up closer towards the house, he saw Millie running around, sniffing areas Peter’s sure she’s smelt a thousand times already, and Pepper was sitting on the porch, a book in her hands. He squinted slightly and saw that it was a parenting book. He’s also sure she’s read that book a thousand times.  

 

He slowed the car down and put it in park before getting out. Harley went to grab the door in the back to get his backpack and once he shut the door, Peter started to walk towards the porch, locking the car as he went. Millie launched herself towards the two of them, her tail spinning and her tongue flapping as she jumped around them. 

 

“Hi, Millie.” Peter greeted, trying to reach out to pet her as he and Harley made their way to the porch, the dog still jumping. “Hi, sweet girl.” 

 

“Hey guys,” Pepper smiled as the two of them walked up the steps. She shut her book, resting her hands on her bump. Pepper had officially reached four months into her pregnancy, a few more weeks and they’d find out the gender. Harley was convinced that the baby would be a boy. “How was practice?” She asked the younger teen. 

 

“Good,” Harley smiled, sitting next to her on the couch, causing it to rock a little. “We mostly just practiced throwing and catching, but we’ll be hitting tomorrow.” 

 

“Any scouts at practice? Will I be getting a call that my son has been invited to play pro?” Pepper teased, reaching to pinch his cheek. Peter snickered, sitting in a chair as Millie sat in between his legs, letting him pet her. 

 

“No, that’s not until tomorrow's practice.” Harley joked back, batting her hands away from his face. Peter wasn’t even sure if scouts were invited to practice. He’d have to ask Harley later. 

 

“Oh, silly me, I’m getting so old that I can’t remember my days.” Pepper laughed. The soft wind hit Peter and he felt his hair brush against his forehead, reminding him of an upcoming hair appointment that Pepper scheduled for both him and Harley. She wanted the two of them to look clean for school photos and both he and Harley had let their hair grow out a little over the summer. 

 

“Have you felt any movement?” Peter asked, nodding towards Pepper’s bump. She was nearing that time in the pregnancy when she’d be able to start feeling the baby moving around. 

 

“No, not really.” Pepper shrugged. “I’ll let you both know when I do.” She tapped her womb before speaking again. “While you boys were gone I was thinking about what to name this kid.” 

 

Peter perked up a bit more, eager to hear. He didn’t share any ideas with Pepper, even when she asked for suggestions. He didn’t really have any, and he felt like it wasn’t his place. Pepper is the mother of that baby, she should have that honor of picking out a name. 

 

“Something good for him?” Harley asked, also looking interested. Harley really wanted a younger brother.

 

“Well, I… didn’t really pick out the name.” Pepper said. “Tony did. Many months ago.” Harley and Peter quickly looked at each other before focusing on Pepper again, who was staring at the lake with a twinkle in her eyes. “When he dreamed of us having a kid, he said their name was Morgan.” She then started to chuckle. “Why we named them after my uncle is still unclear to me.” 

 

“Morgan?” Peter likes the name. He could see a little baby, boy or girl, looking so much like Tony and the name just fits. 

 

Pepper nodded. “Pretty, huh?” 

 

Harley licked his lips and Peter saw some hesitance in his brother. After a moment, Harley spoke. “Morgan Potts or Morgan Stark?” 

 

Pepper turned her head to look at Harley and Peter was also curious, but he kept his mouth shut. Pepper was only Tony’s fiancé, she had no name change or written tie to his mentor. So the baby could technically be a Potts. But that baby wouldn’t be in Pepper’s stomach if it weren’t for Tony so Stark could also work. 

 

“Or both?” He heard himself say softly. 

 

Pepper looked up and he saw how she thought it over before shaking her head. “No, Morgan Potts-Stark doesn’t sound right.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I think I’ll give them Tony‘s last name.” She readjusted her seating, looking back at the lake. Peter looked over as well and saw some ducks swimming around. “I was supposed to have his, so…” she shrugged. “It feels right.” 

 

Peter nodded and Harley didn’t say anything more. Peter started to rock in the chair, Millie was still in between his legs but decided to lay down at some point. School was starting in a few days and he wondered if Gwen wanted to meet somewhere before school, so they could walk in together. He’ll have to text her. 

 

The ducks on the lake started to quack, some flapping their wings and spraying water. The August air was a lot more bearable compared to June and July but that also means the lake would be too cold to swim in right now. Living up north is so fun. 

 

Soon, dinner was the topic of conversion and all three decided to order pizza, Pepper didn’t feel like cooking and neither of the boys did either. Millie begged silently at the table as the three began to eat, Peter was given his own box and he happily chowed down, occasionally picking some cheese off his slices to give to Millie. 

 

“Given any thoughts on how you want your hair cut?” Pepper asked, chewing on her slice of pizza. Peter shook his head, he honestly was just thinking about getting a few inches off. His hair hasn’t grown too badly over the summer and while he isn’t a fan of the idea of growing it down to his shoulders, he also didn’t want to go super short. 

 

“You should get a fade. Maybe go bald.” Harley laughs, pointing weakly at Peter. “Or get a bowl cut.” 

 

Peter smiled menacingly, suddenly remembering an old photo of Harley. “I couldn’t pull that off like you did.” 

 

Harley’s smile fell and he glared at Peter. “That was a dark time.” He mumbled, biting into his slice. 

 

“I mean, yeah, I’d imagine with that haircut.” Peter continued to tease, letting Harley swat him in the arm a couple times. Peter looked back at Pepper, sobering up. “I was thinking just getting it trimmed, nothing too crazy.” 

 

Pepper hummed, tilting her head to the side as her eyes ran over his hair. He didn’t move, though it felt awkward to be watched so intently when he was trying to eat. 

 

“You know,” Pepper smacked her lips. “I don’t hate that. Just an inch off and maybe use minimal gel and run your fingers through your hair to keep it nice.” 

 

He nodded, going back to eating his box of the food. The appointment was in a couple of days, and he was determined to get out of that salon chair quickly. 

 

“What are you thinking, Harls?” Pepper asked. 

 

Harley looked up as he thought, his unruly curls falling into his eyes slightly. Peter wondered if Gwen would offer Harley a scrunchie if she were here right now. “I might just get it all cut off, it’ll help with baseball.” 

 

Pepper nodded, finishing her last slice and wiped her hands off on her napkin. “You want to?” 

 

Harley shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Tennessee gets hot.”

 

Point taken. Peter wasn’t sure if he’d ever want to feel the humidity of that southern state. Sounds brutal. He’d take cold, snowy New York over sweltering Tennessee. 

 

He went to grab another slice of pizza but his shaking hands made that a little harder to do. He had an appointment with Dr. Cho a few weeks ago, before Pepper had concerns with his medication, and Cho confirmed that, yeah, it was just trauma. She told him that it should go away soon, seeing as the shaking had gone down a considerable amount. 

 

Maybe by December the shaking will fully cease! 

 

---

 

The first day of school arrived quickly after he and Harley got their hairs cut. Peter stood outside Midtown High and waited for Gwen. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and held onto a folded up sticky note in his pocket, his therapist’s information on it. Apparently this doctor worked under SHIELD and has seen many heroes walk through his office. 

 

Dr. Cho trusted him. When he brought it up with Natasha, the spy spoke of her like in the man. Pepper knew his name, though she’s never talked one-on-one with him before. 

 

Tony has, apparently. 

 

Garrett Reeds was apparently very good at his job and if he’s helped so many, then Pepper thought that maybe Garrett could help Peter too. 

 

A familiar heartbeat and loud music overloaded Peter’s senses before he could brace himself and he turned around to see Gwen making her way over to him. She must’ve left her headphones at home, purple earbuds taking their place. 

 

She smiled brightly upon seeing him, taking her phone out to pause the music. “Good morning, Peter.” She greeted, wrapping her earbud wires around her phone and stuffing it into her backpacks side pocket. 

 

“Hey, Gwen.” He said as the two started to walk up the steps and walked through the doors together. “Wanna get a snack before homeroom?” He took her gently by her wrist and led her towards the communal vending machine. “Everything’s less than a dollar.” 

 

“Until the economy crashes.” Gwen murmured playfully before speaking up again. “My old school never had a functioning vending machine.” 

 

“Was it broken?” He asked, pulling out his wallet and buying Gwen an energy drink, one that she told him she liked once. He’s not sure why he still remembered that little fact. 

 

“Yeah, some kid got his arm stuck in the slot, and his friend took a running start to dislodge his arm,” Gwen took her drink from Peter, and he could’ve sworn her cheeks were slightly pinker than they usually are. “Maybe because he thought he could rock it the right way to get his friend's arm unstuck, I don't know.” The pair started to walk towards Peter’s locker, Gwen’s being a little farther down from his. “Anyways, he tripped and smashed his head into the glass, causing it to shatter.” 

 

Peter choked on his drink, nearly dropping his books. She had to be joking. Was Gwen there? Did she see that happen? He asked her such. 

 

“Oh, yeah, it was right by my locker.” Gwen giggled, helping Peter keep his backpack open to put his extra notebooks and pencils in his locker. “I’ve never heard the hallway so quiet.” She laughed a little louder. “They repaired the glass and the kid's arm got unstuck but it just wasn’t the same, it stopped taking cash, grabbed the wrong food, so it just became something to fill up the empty space in the hallway.” 

 

“I don’t think we’ve had anything like that happen here.” Peter said, closing his locker and they both made their way to Gwen’s. “We have drones snatched out of the air and there was this senior last year that always rollerbladed down the hallway. I did it a couple times with a skateboard.” 

 

“No way!” Gwen gasped before looking around and lowered her voice, a mischievous glint in her eye as she leaned towards him like she was spilling a secret. “Could I do that?” 

 

Peter matched her tone and lowered his head. He could smell her toothpaste. “Not if you want detention.” 

 

Gwen smacked her lips and stood up straight, crossing her arms over her chest. “Man,” she whined. “Can’t do anything.” Peter shook his head while Gwen opened her locker, putting away extra supplies before shutting her locker. “Where’s home—Peter, where are you going?” 

 

He didn’t even realize he was walking away, Ned’s locker in his sight. He stopped and looked back at Gwen, confusion written all over her face. He… was going to Ned’s locker. It’s what the two have done since freshman year, every single day. 

 

Peter’s locker came first, Ned’s locker was last. 

 

It was a habit that he didn’t even realize he had. That felt like a gut punch and he blinked rapidly. 

 

Instead of explaining (it’s way too early in the day for that), Peter turned around and walked towards Gwen again. “Nowhere. Um, homeroom.” He saw her nod while he looked at the hallway. “Mr. Harrington’s room is right here.” He led Gwen to an open door, Mr. Harrington talking to a student that Peter recognized. “I’ll see you here for chemistry.” 

 

“Where’s Mrs. Warren’s classroom?” Gwen asked, setting her backpack down on a chair. If no one was sitting in it, the spot wasn’t claimed. Classic high school rules. 

 

“I’ll walk you to her room.” Peter offered. “You have gym before physics, right?” Gwen nodded. “I’ll meet you outside the gym and we’ll walk together.” 

 

“Oh, uh, okay.” Gwen nodded and Peter saw her duck her head down. He could hear her heart pick up and for some reason, that caused his to beat faster as well. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

 

At that, the warning bell for homeroom went off. Peter and Gwen bid each other goodbye before he left and he wandered to Mrs. Warren’s room without issue. As he entered, he saw a few familiar faces and a couple unfamiliar. Abe and Charles were sitting in the back, together, but neither were talking. 

 

“Ah, Peter,” Mrs. Warren spoke from her desk. He smiled and she returned it. She looked tired and he saw an ache in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

 

If the world decimation hadn’t happened, that little sentence would’ve meant nothing to Peter, truthfully. He was usually told such sarcastically whenever he was late, as was every student. But now, it holds a whole new meaning. 

 

“It’s nice to see you.” He told her, just as genuinely. She smiled a bit bigger and gestured for him to take his seat. He was honestly just going to collapse in the first one he came across but it seems Charles and Abe started to pay attention when Mrs. Warren said his name. 

 

“Yo, Peter,” Charles called, pointing to an empty desk beside his and Abe’s. “Sit with us.” 

 

He nodded, suddenly feeling awkward. Charles and Abe have always been nice but, just like when Cindy made a groupchat with all of them, it didn’t seem personable. The three of them didn’t speak, and Peter didn’t take it to heart, all their best buds were gone. It was bittersweet, it felt wrong. Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he twisted his pencil in his fingers. Ned should be here. 

 

MJ should be here.

 

“So,” Charles spoke, knocking Peter out of his head. “What do you guys have next?” 

 

“Gym.” Abe groaned. “Which is bull, gym should be the last thing we should do. I don't want to be smelling nasty all day, and I don’t want to smell other nasty people.” 

 

Peter puffed out a laugh. Yeah, smelling everyone in general usually caused Peter to have a headache, and don’t even get him started on sweaty hormonal teens. 

 

“Chemistry.” Peter answered. 

 

“Oh, yeah, I have him last.” Charles said. “I think he may cry.” 

 

Peter raised an eyebrow. He knew Mr. Harrington cared deeply about his students, he remembers seeing the teacher have a “flashback” (as many of his classmates dubbed it) when the Washington Memorial incident happened, talking about how he can’t lose a student again. 

 

Peter grimaced. Mr. Harrington lost fifty percent of his students. Poor guy. 

 

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Abe agreed, lazily resting his chin in his hand. “I also don’t blame him.” 

 

At that, the three became quiet. Peter agreed with Abe, Mr. Harrington truly cared for each and every one of his students, crying and maybe even hugging his students might be good for the guy. 

 

After some time, Mrs. Warren brought the room's attention to her as she was about to do attendance. Peter barely paid attention in the first half, it would be a while before his name was called. He kept twirling his pencil around, looking out the window. 

 

“Harold Osborn?” Peter heard her call and he lifted his head slightly. Osborn? As in Norman Osborn, CEO of Oscorp Industries? The company was almost on par with Stark Industries, it was the new Hammer Industries except without all the illegal undertones.

 

As far as Peter knows, at least. 

 

Norman Osborn had started the company many years ago, maybe when Peter was around seven? Eight? He can never remember. But Norman had a son, one that he always preached about because he had the best of the best education offered to him. 

 

So why was Harold at Midtown Tech now? 

 

“Here.” 

 

“Would you like to be called Harold or do you have a nickname?” Peter remembers when Mrs. Warren asked Ned that, and how red his best friend got when she called him Edward. 

 

“Harry is fine.”

 

“Okay, Harry.” Mrs. Warren brought her pen to her clipboard and didn’t look up as she said his name. “Peter is here, I talked to you this morning.” She somewhat mumbled and he nodded his head slowly. 

 

She continued to call names and Peter tuned her out. What still played at the back of his mind was why Harry Osborn was here. Midtown was a great school, it offered amazing opportunities and taught subjects that most schools wouldn’t even mention and are usually introduced in college. 

 

But was the school great enough for a reputable guy like Normal Osborn to send his son to?

 

Peter’s eyes moved to stare at the back of Harry’s head. He was sitting alone, kind of slouched. Harry obviously wasn’t happy with these new arrangements. 

 

---

 

Charles was right, Mr. Harrington did cry. Once everyone in chemistry sat down for attendance, Mr. Harrington’s water works started. But after another class, lunch finally rolled around and he could confidently say that he was starving. Pepper made him and Harley a big breakfast to celebrate entering freshman and junior year but having a super metabolism makes that big breakfast seem like a tiny snack. 

 

The cafeteria was loud and it would’ve been an issue if he hadn’t had two years to get used to it. 

 

“Where do we wanna sit?” Gwen asked, looking around for empty tables. Peter managed to grab a sandwich before they were all taken and Gwen grabbed some chicken alfredo which she’s optimistic about. Peter doesn’t want to ruin her mood. 

 

“Oh, there’s an empty table.” Peter pointed out and he and Gwen made their way over to it, successfully managing to maneuver around classmates. Once they sat down, Peter immediately grabbed at his sandwich and practically swallowed it whole. He wasn’t kidding about being starved. 

 

“I think I made a new friend.” Gwen said, biting into her apple. 

 

“That’s great, Gwen.” Peter smiled, gently knocking his shoulder into hers. “I told you people would want to be your friend.” 

 

“Eh, it’s only the one person.” Gwen swatted his shoulder. She tucked a strand behind her ear, which was decorated in piercings. Peter often wondered how much those hurt. “She says she knows you pretty well. Cindy Moon?” 

 

Peter hummed, catching onto what Cindy was doing. What a coincidence that Gwen was brought up in a conversation on Instagram, Cindy obviously wanting him, Sally, Abe, Charles, and her to get closer, and Cindy befriending his only friend. 

 

Cindy is an evil genius, he’ll give her that. 

 

“Yeah, I know Cindy.” Peter nodded. “She’s in deca with me.” 

 

“And Mr. Harrington coaches it?” 

 

Peter shrugged, scooping some peaches into his mouth. “He… did. Then he appointed MJ as captain so she took over and he just supervised and did what he was supposed to.” He looked at Gwen. “But now, I think he’ll call the shots.” 

 

Gwen nodded, turning to scoop her alfredo into her mouth. Peter suddenly became excited and leaned towards her, watching her with wide, focused eyes. Her reaction would be priceless. It was kind of like a Midtown High student initiation, the famous Alfredo Tasting. He still shivers at the memory of trying it for the first time. 

 

Ned didn’t survive. 

 

So he waited for her reaction, to spit it out or grow green in the face. But when she didn’t, when she continued to chew happily, Peter sat up straight and his mouth fell open. No way. 

 

“Gwen!” He gasped. 

 

“What?” She turned her head, furrowing her eyebrows as she chewed. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“How can you stand that?” He asked in horror. 

 

“It’s good.” She smiled. Well, smiled as best she could with a mouth full of food. She looked so much like Kirby, he wanted to pinch her cheeks.

 

“What the hell…” someone behind Peter mumbled and both he and Gwen turned to see Harry Osborn standing with his own tray, a slice of pizza on it, looking at Gwen with disgust. 

 

“Got a problem?” Gwen asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

 

“You actually like that?” Harry nodded towards the alfredo. Peter narrowed his eyes at Harry, seeing if he'd say anything more. Yeah, trying the alfredo at first is down right revolting but it’s one of those things that everybody hates at first but then it grows on them. Doesn’t make it good. If Gwen likes it, so what?

 

“Yeah. So?” Gwen shrugged, scooping more alfredo in her mouth and looking back at Harry as she chewed. “Delicious.” 

 

“That’s disgusting.” Harry said. “It looks like vomit covered in milk.” 

 

“To each their own, bitch boy.” Gwen drank some of her orange juice and Peter subtly covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his smile and stifle his laughter. The urge to stand up for Gwen was strong but she seems to be handling the situation just fine. “Go away, you’re spoiling my appetite.” 

 

“I’m sure the alfredo is the one doing that.” Harry muttered but he walked away, disappearing in the crowds of students. Peter watched and Gwen rolled her eyes, scoffing. 

 

“What a dick.” Gwen huffed. 

 

“Made a friend,” Peter said, referring to Cindy. “Made an enemy.” Harry Osborn. “Congratulations, Gweny, that’s a new record.” 

 

She laughed. “Shut up, Peter.” 

 

He continued to eat the remainder of his lunch as Gwen ate her alfredo. He tried to hide a grimace because Harry was right, it did look like vomit covered in milk. It really was a meal that every student hated but couldn’t not eat. He and Ned once tried to find the science behind it, but they didn’t get anywhere. 

 

Finally, the bell that signaled the end of lunch came and he and Gwen dumped their trays, going their separate ways. 

 

---

 

Finally, the last class of the day came by and it was physics with Mrs. Warren. He and Gwen met up by his locker, seeing as it was closer to Mrs. Warren’s classroom and they walked in together, sitting at a random table. Gwen complained about gym, her argument similar to Abe’s from that morning. He wonders if they’ve met yet.

 

“The amount of deodorant and perfume I put on is sickening.” Gwen slumped in her seat. He could smell the heavy amount of her spray and usually a mass amount of fragrance would cause Peter to sneeze so much that people thought he was having an allergic reaction, or he’d have a killer migraine and “zone out” until he couldn’t smell it anymore. 

 

But he never minded Gwen’s perfume, no matter how much she put on. He remembers her telling him one time that she loved cotton flower and vanilla perfume and how it’s been her “signature scent” since middle school. 

 

He wonders if she’s starting to run low now. 

 

“Lorand is a hardcore man,” Gwen continued, fanning her face which was still a little red. “I don't know how I’ll survive the rest of the year.” 

 

Like most schools, Midtown Tech has trimesters and between those trimesters, they get a few days off for teachers to prepare for the next tri. But unlike most schools, Midtown’s classes remain the same all year. Only differences are the topics in each class and the overall credits. 

 

“Gwen, you’re a dancer.” He laughed. With her stamina, gym should be the easiest class for her.

 

“So?” She snorted. “Doesn’t mean I like playing dodgeball and getting nailed in the head.” 

 

“Did you actually?” Is that why her face was so red and a little blue? “How many times did you get hit?” 

 

“Too many times to remember.” She grumbled. “After the third time, I blacked out.” 

 

He chuckled again, watching as more people filed into the physics classroom. School has never been challenging for him and a while ago (back when he was in space, stranded, dying, cold—) he considered early graduation, so convinced he wouldn’t have anyone anymore. 

 

Gwen unknowingly made him change his mind on the matter. 

 

Soon, the bell rang and the students quieted down as Mrs. Warren stood up from her desk, clipboard in hand. One day all she’d need to do is look up from her desk, scan the room, and know who's here and isn’t. 

 

“Alright, boys and girls, welcome to Advanced Physics 104, congratulations, you’ve reached the highest level this school offers.” A few students snickered and looked smug, and Mrs. Warren rolled her eyes. “A lot of you are juniors, can’t wait to see you all forget this by next year.” Some students snorted, others nodded as if they agreed with her. 

 

“Are we going on any cool field trips this year?” A student named Luke asked. Peter and Luke rarely crossed paths but Peter does remember that Luke threw up when they all dissected a deer heart in biology their tenth grade year. 

 

“The cool ones are usually secret.” Mrs. Warren answered. “With that in mind, let’s move on.” She brought her clipboard to attention and got ready to take attendance. “I just wanted to say that because of… past events of this year, the overall population of this school has gone down significantly but I can say, with all my heart, that I am happy to see you all. I understand that this year has been hard and I don't expect things to be better for all of us now that school has started.” 

 

This is the first time Peter’s seen Mrs. Warren this… genuine. He didn’t like it. 

 

“If you ever need someone to talk to, please don’t hesitate to come to me or any teacher you trust. We all have your best interest at heart and we care for all of you.” Mrs. Warren continued. “Now, I see some familiar faces and some unfamiliar, so when I call your name, please show me that you exist and if you go by a nickname, tell me now.” 

 

Peter suddenly heard running footsteps, coming from outside the classroom, far down the hall. This person was sprinting by the sounds of it. Peter braced himself a second before the door burst open, Harry Osborn was gasping for air as he tried to apologize to Mrs. Warren. 

 

“S-sorry,” he gasped, bending at the waist a little as he tried to catch his breath. “Got held up.” 

 

Mrs. Warren looked back at her clipboard. “Take a seat, Mr. Osborn.” 

 

The only open seat was at his and Gwen’s table. Peter saw Gwen bristle and while he wasn’t as against Harry as Gwen is, it still kind of dampened his mood that Harry would be sitting with them. He hasn’t made a very good first impression.

 

The red head apparently had the same thoughts because he looked like someone told him his cat ran away and he was mostly annoyed by that fact rather than sad. He practically stomped his way over to the table and threw his backpack down on the floor, Peter may have winced a little at the harsh sound. He regarded Peter and Gwen with an uninterested gaze, slumping backwards in his seat. 

 

Mrs. Warren skipped through a vast majority of the names, mumbling to herself. “Peter’s here. Sophie’s here. Livia’s here. Harry’s here. Matt’s here.” 

 

“She’s good with faces.” Gwen whispered to him, not having her name called yet. 

 

“Definitely helps that a lot of us have had her class since freshman year.” He agreed. Occasionally, Mrs. Warren would call out a name if she either didn't see the student earlier or if they were entirely new. 

 

“Gwendolyn Stacy?” Mrs. Warren looked up from her paper.

 

Gwen raised her arm. “Here.” 

 

“Do you go by a different name?” 

 

“Gwen, please.” She smiled. 

 

Mrs. Warren nodded, writing a little before making a check mark. “Gwen Stacy, got it.” Then she moved on to the next couple of students before putting her clipboard down. “Alright, we’re going to start the year off by doing a project with your table partners.” Groans filled the room and Peter saw the way Harry looked between him and Gwen. “Hush, you all are acting like I stole your souls.” 

 

“You practically did.” Livia rubbed her face dramatically. 

 

“All your projects give me gray hairs!” A kid named Oliver yelled, pointing to his head full of dark hair. “The one I found last year literally made me have a breakdown.” 

 

“Mood.” Some other kid snorted. 

 

“Anyways,” Mrs. Warren clapped her hands together, pacing in front of the smart board. “The project is actually fairly simple and pretty fun.” 

 

Fun? Peter can speak from experience that what Mrs. Warren calls fun is what others would call academic torture, hence his classmates reactions.

 

“It should actually be review for all of you, and the project will be due next Tuesday.” Mrs. Warren continued. “That gives you guys today and Friday, the weekend, and Monday to come up with a plan on how to explain fluid dynamics.” 

 

Oh! Peter was great at fluid dynamics! He and Mr. Stark often messed around with fluid dynamics when they were bored or going brain dead from other projects. Gwen seemed to be pretty knowledgeable on that topic as well if her excited eyes told him anything. 

 

“Here’s the instructions for the project, you can either do a video or bring the physical object in, but you have to explain how it works with fluid dynamics.” Mrs. Warren passed out some paper and when she reached Peter’s table, she spoke quieter. “Peter, please keep your presentation to a minimum of ten minutes. I appreciate your passion for physics but last time you and Ned presented, it took up half the class time, as entertaining as it was.” 

 

The casual mention of his best friend made his heart ache slightly. Peter felt blood rush to his cheeks and he smiled shyly. “I will, don’t worry.” 

 

Mrs. Warren nodded and kept walking, passing out the remainder of the paper and telling her students to come up with ideas. Gwen arched an eyebrow at him. “What was the presentation on?” 

 

“Electromagnetism.” Peter answered. “Just how electric and magnetic fields interact with each other.” 

 

Mr. Stark actually helped him come up with the idea. Peter remembers that he was running on very little sleep because Queens and surrounding areas had been busy with crime all week and maybe Mr. Stark took pity on him when Peter started to complain about drawing a blank on what to do for the class. 

 

It was actually an interesting topic to present on because both fields are less intuitive to the conversation of momentum or waves. 

 

“Was it recorded?” Gwen asked lowly. “Please tell me it was recorded.” 

 

“No evidence.” Peter smirked. No way would he allow Gwen to have any sort of blackmail on him, even if it was a project that he loved doing.

 

Gwen swore, looking at the instruction sheet. “Well, any ideas? Cause I was thinking we just go the lazy route and use a spray bottle.” 

 

“Mrs. Warren doesn’t do lazy.” Peter sighed, running his hand through his hair. He looked up at Harry and saw that his classmate was looking out the window, his expression blank. “Hey,” Peter waved his hand in Harry’s line of sight, causing the red head to blink several times to bring the focus back to his eyes. “Thinking of any ideas?” 

 

Harry shook his head, tapping his fingers against the desk. “Nah. I’m not really a science nerd.” 

 

Gwen and Peter looked at each other before looking back at Harry. “This is a science school.” Gwen said slowly, like she was talking to a toddler. “If you aren’t really interested in the topic, then why are you here?” 

 

“Because of dear old Dad.” Harry hummed, not meeting either of their eyes. “Thanos snapped,” for emphasis, Harry did too. “And suddenly Dad had clarity.” Harry scoffed and shook his head in disbelief and Peter tried to ignore the ringing in his ears that didn’t come from anyone or anything besides himself. “He got rid of all my private professors and enrolled me in public school.” 

 

“Is this place even public?” Gwen asked Peter, who was beginning to feel himself sweat a little. “Since we have to take an entrance exam, wouldn’t that make it more private?” 

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry snapped. “This isn’t the place for me.” 

 

Peter tried to tune the conversation out, quietly taking deep breaths. It was literally the first day of school, he won’t have a panic attack here. But it was getting harder to control his composure, his breaths were sharp and shallow, and he distantly remembers asking Mrs. Warren if he could go to the bathroom, not even hearing an answer before he left the classroom. 

 

He stumbled to a random bathroom and locked himself in the big stall, sliding down the wall as he tried to get a handle on everything. His shaking hands got worse as he tugged on his hair, tears blurred his vision and all he could hear was himself crying, his heart feeling like it wanted to burst, a ringing in his ear so loud he just wanted to die. 

 

He had a distant, morbid thought of smashing his face into the tiled wall until he was dead, just to make everything go away. 

 

The deep breathing wasn’t helping and his vision was beginning to fade. He was shaking from head to toe and all he knows is that he can still hear that snap. The feeling of dust under his fingertips, dust that was once a man, a humidity so unEarthly, darkness surrounding him and the coldness of the spaceship, stars floating in nothingness- 

 

Another sob ran through him and he bit his lip to keep from crying loudly again. He could taste blood. He can’t do this, he can’t be at school without Ned and MJ, he even wants Flash and his bullying back. That’s how desperate he is for his normal to return to him. He wants May back, he wants Mr. Stark back, he wants his old apartment back, he wants his normal, non-shaky hands back. 

 

This is too much. He just wants it to end. He just wants to end. 

 

---

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry barked at Gwen and her eyebrows raised at his audacity. “This isn’t the place for me.” 

 

“Okay, first,” Gwen said. “Watch who you’re talking to, and—Peter?” 

 

Her friend practically shot up out of his seat like a cannon, he ran out of the classroom like he was on fire. She watched as the classroom door swung close and she looked at Mrs. Warren, who also looked worried and confused. 

 

“Uh, is he okay?” Harry asked, and Gwen frowned at him, because, did Peter look okay? She didn’t respond, only gathered their things together and heaved one strap from each backpack on her shoulders and left the classroom, leaving Harry behind. 

 

She looked around the empty hallway, trying to think of where Peter could have gone. Did he leave the school altogether? Would he? Peter didn’t seem like the type. 

 

She started to walk towards the bathrooms, knowing that’s where she and her friends usually went when something was wrong. He seriously looked terrified, and Gwen needed to find out why. He started to act strange right after Harry snapped, maybe that was it. But why would it? 

 

What wasn’t he telling her? 

 

She tried the boys bathroom that was closest to Mrs. Warren’s classroom but when she peaked her head in, nobody was in there. She wandered to the next one, way farther down the hall and kind of hidden (Peter says it was the less popular bathroom in the school) and when she was within arms reach of the door, she could hear crying and wheezes. 

 

“Peter?” She opened the door and tried to ignore the urinals that look like they haven’t been clean since the school was first built. She looked to see if there were any feet in the stalls and only saw one pair in the big stall, and it looked like Peter was sitting on the ground. “Hey,” she gave the door an experimental tug, already knowing he’d have locked it. “Peter, it’s me.” 

 

His breathing wasn’t slowing down and she could’ve sworn she heard a sob. She dropped the backpacks to the ground and didn’t hesitate to drop with them, sliding herself under the stall door.

 

Peter was a sight to behold. 

 

“Hey, hey, Peter,” Gwen called out, gently reaching to touch Peter’s hands that were glued to his head, gripping his hair tightly. “Let go. You’re hurting yourself.” 

 

His eyes were shut tightly and tears were slipping down his cheeks and she was scared. She’s never helped someone overcome a panic attack before, this was brand new territory for her. But she couldn’t freeze up, she had to help him. 

 

She removed her hands from on top of his, his own hands weren’t budging from his hair. Instead, she grabbed the sides of his face and forced his head to tilt upwards, level with hers. His lips were growing a little blue and he was growing pale. 

 

“Open your eyes, Peter.” She tried to make her tone firm, maybe a small form of stability for Peter to reach onto. She didn’t want to admit how hard it was. “Look at me.” 

 

She saw the way his eyes flickered under his eyelids until they slowly opened, his eyes glazed and his pupils wide. 

 

“Good, good.” She praised, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone to wipe away a tear. “Give me your hand.” 

 

With a lot of coaxing, Peter’s hand lessened on his hair and Gwen was able to grab it, putting it over her heart. It was pounding a mile a minute but she breathed in deeply, willing it to slow down a little. 

 

“Feel that?” She asked. “Feel my heartbeat? Pay attention to it.” She placed her hand over his heart and it felt like it wanted to spring free from his chest. “Take a deep breath with me.” 

 

After some coaching, his pants and wheezes were finally slowing down and she could imagine how lightheaded he must’ve felt. She herself felt like she was outside her body. 

 

“There you go.” She murmured. “I'm right here with you. You’re okay. We’re in the bathroom, you’re okay.” 

 

His hand still trembled above her chest but his heartbeat was beginning to slow and she hoped he could feel hers do the same. She kept eye contact, taking deep breaths with him. The hand that was still in his hair became limp and he let it fall, his brown eyes were bright with tears. 

 

It wasn’t until his breathing totally slowed and color returned to his face that Gwen dropped her hand from his chest. She smiled weakly at him, relieved that he was no longer hyperventilating, right on the edge of passing out. 

 

Gwen still kind of wanted to. That was a rush.

 

Suddenly, his hand that was on her chest had fisted her shirt and pulled her towards him. Her chest collided with his as he brought his arms around her, holding her close. She could feel him shaking, and she didn’t have the heart to remove herself from his embrace, no matter how awkward she felt right now. She could tell by his hold alone that he really needed this hug. 

 

So, she stayed kneeling in between his legs, her upper body bent so that Peter could hug her. She was practically face-to-face with the tile and she prayed there wasn't any gross residue from anything on that wall. 

 

She brought her own arms up to hug him back, his face was digging into her shoulder and she felt his tears stain her shirt. They stayed like that for a while, it was luck alone that no one had come into the bathroom. 

 

“Are you okay?” She asked, resting her cheek against his shoulder. 

 

She felt him nod and a spark of irritation ran up inside her. Why wasn’t he telling her the truth? The question was really just a test to see if he’d admit anything to her and he failed. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’m okay.” 

 

“Please don’t lie to me.” She heard herself say. 

 

He stayed quiet for a minute, but neither of them moved. She pressed herself closer to him, she could feel the hardlines of his arms under her hands and kept reminding herself that this isn’t the first time they’ve been this close. This isn’t the first time she’s felt his muscles or smelled his cedar scent. 

 

But this time, it felt more intimate, more vulnerable than dancing. Even when they practice together, and his hands are on her body with hers on his, they’ve never been this close. And she’s never seen him like this. It was scary but she was so glad he didn’t push her away and try to deal with this on his own.

 

“No,” Peter finally spoke. “I’m not okay.” 

 

She nodded against his shoulder, because, yeah, she knows and agrees. 

 

“My… mom is making me see a therapist after school.” He continued and Gwen felt her spirits rise. “And I really don’t want to.” 

 

“We don’t always want help.” Gwen said, removing her cheek from his shoulder and pulling back to look him directly in the eye, his hands fell from her upper back to her waist. She tried not to notice how warm his hands were. “But we need it. I’m glad that you’re willing, that’s all that matters.” 

 

She saw the way tears welled up in his eyes again and he shut them, nodding stiffly. Two more tears fell down his cheek and she wiped them away, moving her fingers up into his hair, gently running her nails on his scalp. The tension in his face disappeared slowly as did his shoulders. 

 

“Maybe you should go now.” Gwen suggested. “School is almost over anyways,” she shrugged and smiled at him. “I say that we go.” 

 

“My stuff—”

 

“I brought it.” Peter’s eyes looked away from hers and stared under the stall door, seeing their disregarded backpacks on the floor. “I wouldn’t leave our stuff for Harry to watch.” She smirked. 

 

He tiredly laughed, nodding his head. She dropped her hands from his hair (why was it so soft?) and Peter let go of her waist, both of them moving away from each other. The air felt colder to her now and she didn’t like it. 

 

She moved to unlock the stall door and grabbed their bags, handing Peter his. He swung it onto his back and they left the boys bathroom together. Their footsteps were loud in the empty hallway and she was almost worried they’d get caught trying to leave. 

 

But Peter seemed to know the best way to avoid detection as they maneuvered around cameras in weird ways and completely avoided classrooms that either had their windows or doors opened. How often did he do this? She mused to herself. She might have to revoke her earlier assumption.

 

Finally, they emerged through the school's main doors, walking down the steps and seeing some cars ready to pick up students that didn’t have the ability to drive themselves. She was grateful that her grandma lived a few blocks away. 

 

Parking passes were ridiculously expensive. 

 

Both she and Peter slowed their walks until they were both standing still. The wind felt nice, it was kind of a little too warm for September. Or maybe it was just her body that was too warm.

 

“Thank you,” Peter spoke suddenly. “For helping me.” 

 

Gwen smiled and nodded. She wouldn’t pry, not now. Not when she could clearly see how tired he was from that attack. “Anytime, Pete.” She said gently. And she truly meant it. 

 

“Do you want a ride?” Peter offered, pointing to a nice car that was parked at the end of the lot. Midtown Tech’s student parking sticker was seen in the corner of the windshield. “I do have time to kill.” 

 

“Nah, I think you should spend this extra time with your therapist.” Gwen really does want him to feel better, if he talks with his therapist early, he could leave earlier than planned. It’s simple. “But thank you. Text me later, okay?” 

 

He nodded, and she kept eye contact with him until she slowly turned around and started to walk away from him, the shortest route back home. 

 

She worriedly chews on her bottom lip now that Peter isn’t able to see her. She hopes he gets better soon, she doesn’t ever want to see him have a panic attack again. 

Chapter 11

When Helen told Garrett he’d be having an hour-long session with a teenager, he raised an eyebrow because last he checked, he was certified to handle superheroes, not random teens.

 

Then he was told this teenager was Spider-Man and he laughed at the idea because there is no way that this seventeen year old Peter Parker was Spider-Man, the people’s hero rather than the worlds, like the Avengers, if that makes sense. A hero that even Garrett respects. He just didn’t think that hero would be two decades younger than him. 

 

He toyed with his pen as he wondered what the notorious carefree hero could be dealing with under that mask. Was it an addiction? Depression? Was he forced to talk to Garrett or did he make that decision himself? 

 

“He’s a good kid, very smart. He’s suffered too much too young.” Helen told him as they sat in a random office at the Avenger’s Compound. Apparently this is where Helen decided he and Peter would be holding their biweekly sessions.

 

It was a very underwhelming office, if Garrett says so himself. 

 

“What’s his story?” Garrett asked. He’s not sure how much he’d get out of the kid in one go. Lord knows how hard it was with the Avenger’s, but luckily, Helen has always filled him in on the important stuff. 

 

Helen huffed and Garrett wondered if that was too broad of a question. “It’s an interesting one.” Helen chuckled humorlessly. 

 

Garrett raised an eyebrow as he messed with a pen. “Give me the gist.” 

 

“He fought Thanos, Garrett.” Helen said, her dark hair falling into her eyes. He felt his eyes widen a fraction, listening intently. “He… watched as everyone around him turned to dust. Tony died in his arms on some planet called Titan.” 

 

Garrett looked away from Helen’s gaze, his heart already feeling bad for the kid. That… must’ve been a sight. He was lucky, he didn’t see anyone get Dusted. He was eating dinner with his wife and children when it happened, the radio switching from their usual dinner music to a panicked radio host yelling about people disappearing all around them. 

 

“He was stranded in space for three weeks and he was so sure he was going to die. He was malnourished, dehydrated, and had severe hypoxia.” Helen continued, her usual calm and collected voice was now hurried. “When he came back, his hands were shaking so bad but I thought it was because of the physical toll on his body. But even weeks — months — after he came back, they still shake.” 

 

“Nerve damage?” It would make sense, and if Peter did fight Thanos in space, it’s possible. He doesn’t know if Peter had to grab things of extreme temperatures or if Thanos managed to hurt his hands in some way.

 

But Helen shook her head. “I tested him for nerve damage many times, but each test came back negative. It was clear that he was just suffering the physical effect of PTSD. I gave him antidepressants after I properly diagnosed him, to help with his anxiety and shakiness.” 

 

“How are those working for him?” He doesn’t know much about the hero, but if Garrett had to take a gamble, he’d say Peter would need a higher dosage than regular people. He’s seen how fast the hero can run, how much he can lift in YouTube videos his kids would sometimes watch. His metabolism must be off the charts. “What’s he taking?” 

 

“Paroxetine.” Helen answered. “I just had to up his dosage because they weren’t working too well for him. I’m thinking of switching him to something else, though.” 

 

“Any signs of depression?” He knows a lot of those medications were designed to counter depression and anxiety, but sometimes, the medicine was the evil one. 

 

“No word from him but it’s easy to see.” Helen answered. “Pepper, she adopted him a while back, brought it up with me. He hasn’t been doing too well.” 

 

“So then I assume there’s been no talk of suicide or suicidal tendencies.” 

 

“None that he’s shared.” 

 

Alright, it’s not the first time he’s worked with a hero where they were hush-hush with everyone. But Garrett’s confident that he’ll get Peter to break out of his shell within a few sessions. 

 

“Okay.” Garrett set his pen down on the desk, rubbing his eyes from under his glasses. “Okay,” he says again. “We’ll see how far I can get with this kid.” 

 

---

 

Turns out he isn’t getting very far. This kid that’s sitting in front of him looks like he’s been hit by a train and a bus. Then thrown through a building. He blinks at Garrett tiredly, the bags under his eyes look like bruises one would get from a broken nose, and whenever Garrett asks a question that usually requires some explanation, this kid finds a very unique way of making it vague. 

 

He’s reminded of Tony a little. 

 

He sees the way that Peter’s hands twitch, the way his knee bounces. He’s nervous, no, anxious to leave. Garrett expected nothing different. 

 

“Alright, Peter.” Garrett taps his pen against his knee. He’s never been one to carry a clipboard and jot down notes. “You’ve been sitting across from me for the last forty-five minutes and you’ve managed to dodge a lot of my questions.” 

 

Peter shrugged. “I wouldn’t say dodging.”

 

“Then what would you call it?” 

 

“I don’t like oversharing.” Peter answers. “Especially to strangers.” 

 

“We don’t have to be strangers.” 

 

“I’d rather be.” 

 

“You got some edge, Peter.” Garrett chuckled, slightly taken aback by how quick the kid fires back retorts but he was entertained nonetheless. “You don’t want to be here, I get it. But I know that you know that people are worried about you. That’s why you’re here, to make those people happy, is that correct?”

 

“I have no other choice.” Peter said. “Pepper literally would have my head if I missed this session.” 

 

“Mothers are dangerous people.” Garrett nodded. “My own mother threatened to “beat my ass” when I expressed doubts about college. She said I was being “a pansy” and that I “needed to get out of the house”. She was right, of course.” He laughed. 

 

That seemed to pull a small smile out of the teen. Garrett, one. Peter, zero. 

 

“What about your mom?” Garrett asked, maybe talking about other things besides Spider-Man and PTSD would help Peter out. “What’s her name?” 

 

From what Helen told him earlier, Peter’s mothers name was Mary Fitzpatrick, Parker after she married Richard. They were both in their early twenties when Peter was born, not married until the boy was about three, they died a year later. 

 

“Mary.” Peter answered softly. “Her name was Mary.”

 

“What can you tell me about her?” 

 

Peter didn’t answer, and Garrett could practically see Peter’s thoughts running around in his head, all just by looking into his eyes. After a moment, he mumbled, “Not much.” 

 

“That’s okay.” Garrett said. “Just tell me what you can.” 

 

Peter licked his lips, shifting in his seat. “She, uh, had long hair. Dark, long hair. Darker than mine.” 

 

Garrett nodded, not even daring to open his mouth. He can see the struggle Peter is going through with trying to remember his deceased mother and he didn’t want to interrupt. 

 

“Her eyes were green, I think. Or blue, I… I can’t really remember. The pictures of her don’t really clear that up.” 

 

“Was she a good mom?”

 

Peter nodded without any hesitation and Garrett smiled a bit bigger as Peter acted a tad more animated than Garrett’s seen all day. “Yes. She used to take me on walks… and I know that she used to sing to me. I just can’t remember the songs or… or her voice.” 

 

“She sounds like a wonderful woman.” Garrett hummed. “What about your dad?”

 

“I remember even less about him.” Peter shrugged, not looking as hurt as he did when Mary was the topic of conversation. “He had dark hair too, but his eyes were apparently blue. That’s what Uncle Ben always told me.” 

 

Garrett nodded, beginning to tap his pen against his knee again. “You said you remember less of him?” 

 

Peter nodded. “He probably wasn’t as involved as my mother was.” He shrugged again. “I don’t… really feel sad when I think of him.” 

 

Interesting…

 

“Why would he not have been as involved?” Garrett asked. 

 

“I don’t know. Both of them were scientists, maybe I just got in the way of his work.” Peter guessed. “I’m not upset about that, by the way.” 

 

“Oh, no, I can see how little it’s affecting you.” It might’ve sounded sarcastic but it’s true, Garrett sees nothing but nonchalance and disinterest in Peter about Richard Parker. “But do you have any memory of him?”

 

Peter’s silent for a few seconds, biting in the inside of his cheek. “I mean,” Peter started to bounce his knee a little faster. “I think I remember him talking about baseball. Him watching a game on TV.”

 

“Anything else?”

 

Peter shook his head. “No, not really.”

 

Alright, well, this is session number one, it’s rare that he gets anywhere with anyone in the first meeting but at least Peter doesn’t look as tense now. His hands still have a slight tremble to them and he wonders if it was worse when Peter returned from space. 

 

“Well, Mister Peter Parker, it was a pleasure to meet you today,” Garrett stood up from his chair and Peter followed suit, shaking hands. He had to hide the wince at how strong Peter’s grip is. “I’ll see you in two weeks, same time and place, okay?”

 

Peter nods and practically sprints out of the office, leaving Garrett in the dust. The man shakes his head at the dramatics of the kid but still can’t get used to the idea that a teenager is Spider-Man. 

 

If Garrett remembers correctly, the hero has been around for a few years now. Peter must’ve been about fourteen when he debuted. When Garrett was that age, all that he was worried about was puberty, girls, and school. He couldn’t imagine how Peter must’ve felt. 

 

The SHIELD agent sat back down in his chair and reached for his bag, pulling out Peter’s file that Helen gave him before Peter’s arrival. He didn’t really have time to look it over in too much detail but now that he has the time…

 

FIRST, MIDDLE, LAST NAME: Peter Benjamin Parker 

 

DATE OF BIRTH: August 10, 2001

 

PLACE OF BIRTH: Queens General Hospital 

 

MOTHER: Mary Leah Fitzpatrick (deceased; 2005)

 

FATHER: N/A

 

Woah, what? Garrett blinked again, trying to see if it was his mind playing tricks on him, maybe it was the lighting, but reading it over and over, nothing on Peter’s document changed. Is this what it says on Peter’s birth certificate? Probably not because Peter had surely looked at his documents before and if he knew that Richard Parker wasn’t his father, he most likely would’ve said something. Right? 

 

SHIELD obtained this information somehow and Garrett isn’t much of a techy agent, but he knows a few tricks to unlock a few files and truthfully? Peter Parker’s story kind of seems interesting, Garrett would love to know more about him. 

 

---

 

As the final bell rang through Midtown and everyone in Mrs. Warren’s gathering their belongings. The weekend officially started as teenagers raced to their cars to get out of the parking lot quickly. 

 

Peter and Gwen walked down the school's steps together, Peter having to drive back to the Avenger’s Compound to fight one-on-one with Natasha until seven. Then he’ll patrol until midnight. Then homework. Yay. 

 

“I managed to grab Harry’s phone number when we were in Ms. Ardine’s class,” Gwen told him and his walk slowed until they were both standing outside the school. “We could always work on the project tomorrow and Sunday.” 

 

Gwen has ballet everyday except for on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s (and of course the weekends, too), Peter trains with Natasha on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and he has a scheduled therapy session every other Thursday for an hour. 

 

Honestly, both their schedules are packed. 

 

“We could do it at my house.” Peter suggested and he almost laughed in Gwen’s face when she snapped her head up from looking at her phone, her face comically shocked. 

 

“Wait, really?” Her eyes were wide, her blue eyes bright in the sun. “I can finally see who your madre and brosef are?” 

 

“Madre?” Peter laughed. “Brosef? Gwen, what—?” 

 

“Never mind what I just called them, this will be so fun!” Gwen gripped his forearm and started to jump up and down, he ignored the stares the two got. “Could I come over before Harry? I wanna talk to them!”

 

“If you want.” Peter smiled. Without thinking, he then blurted, “I can even come pick you up.” 

 

He literally felt himself freeze up at the offer he made. He’s also not sure why. He and Gwen have traveled together before, but that was through the subway or walking together. Never ever have they been in a car together. The idea was kind of scary. 

 

But Gwen, whether she had similar thoughts to him or not, didn’t falter. “That would be amazing and unfortunately, I have to go now. Madame Odine,” she said in a horrible French accent, “will be pissed if I’m late for recital.” Gwen gave his arm one last squeeze before walking away, waving at him as she walked towards a sidewalk that would bring her to her ballet class. He knows she’s grateful it’s only a ten minute walk from the school.

 

Once he couldn't see her anymore, he started walking towards his car, the parking lot less compacted with other students' cars. He’s still grateful that Pepper gifted him a car, she claims that he deserves it. 

 

She just doesn’t want to share cars anymore, Peter thought with an amused smirk. 

 

---

 

“So you’re inviting two classmates over today?” Pepper asked that Saturday morning. He would’ve talked to Pepper after patrol on Friday but by the time he got back home, she was sleeping and he didn’t have the heart to wake her up. “Who?” 

 

“Gwen and Harry.” He avoided Pepper’s more intense gaze at Gwen’s name. “It’s just for a physics project.” 

 

“I can finally meet this girl?” Pepper reached over the counter she was leaning against and squeezed his arm. “Finally, Pete.” She laughed. 

 

“You act like I’ve kept her locked away for years.” Peter joked. Really, Pepper was acting a little dramatic. “I’m just nervous.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

Peter looked away from Pepper and stared out of the kitchen window, not looking at anything in particular. “Gwen is a smart girl. She’s already curious about how I know Natasha, wouldn’t seeing you be a bad thing?” 

 

Pepper hummed, popping an almond in her mouth. That seems to be a new craving she’s having. “Has she asked you about it?” 

 

“No,” Peter shook his head. “But I know she wants to. I can see it, the way she struggles to keep her mouth shut.” Honestly, he’s a little impressed, he doesn’t have that much restraint. “And now that Harry is going to be here, he’ll also have questions and he doesn’t seem like the most…” Peter shrugged. “Fun guy.” 

 

Pepper brought another almond to her mouth. “Do you want to tell Gwen about Spider-Man?” 

 

Does he? He’s never asked himself that question, mostly because deep down he knows that he really doesn’t. At least not yet. Gwen is already his friend so he knows that she’s not just some kiss-up because of the hero. 

 

But… was he ready? 

 

Peter shook his head. “No. Not now.” 

 

“Okay.” Pepper said, giving his arm another squeeze. “Then I’ll just hide away in my room. I’ll take down any pictures or decor—” 

 

“No, Pepper, don’t do that.” Peter said a little too harshly, his annoyance shining through slightly. He smiled apologetically at her for his tone when she raised an eyebrow. “This is your home, you shouldn’t have to.” She really shouldn’t, he would never ask her to deface her home. “And why hide the fact that you’re my mom?” 

 

When he heard Pepper’s heart beat a little louder and her slight intake of breath, he looked at her again and saw her smiling at him in a way she hasn’t since he came back from space. He saw her eyes grow misty and he felt his follow suit as if they had their own consciousness. 

 

That was the first time he acknowledged her as his mother to her face. Sure, she’s called him and Harley her sons and he never felt weird about that, but this was different. Mary was his mother, and he still loved her very much but whenever someone mentioned the word “mom”, it was always Aunt May that he pictured. But now, even though it makes his heart ache, Pepper is the one he thinks of. 

 

“Well,” Pepper cleared her throat, letting go of his arm. “Then why don’t you kids all stay outside then. I’ll have Harley deliver snacks for you guys and I’ll make sure he doesn’t reveal too much.” 

 

Peter nodded, smiling gratefully at Pepper. “Thank you.” He said. “I’ll be leaving here soon, I offered her a ride.” 

 

Like a switch, Pepper's caring, motherly smile melted into a teasing one. “How chivalrous of you.”  

 

“I’m just being nice.” Peter insisted as Pepper left the kitchen, laughing over her shoulder. Seriously, no one would be acting this way if it were Ned or MJ. What makes Gwen so different? 

 

Sure, he finds her really cute, and sometimes his heart skips a beat when she smiles at him, and yes, she’s super smart and talented and smells really nice. 

 

But she was just a friend, why couldn’t anyone else see that? 

 

But the time came to pick her up, and Pepper promised to have a snack ready for when the two arrive. Harley was luckily out practicing his swings so Peter didn’t have to hear any more unwanted teasing. 

 

The drive was quick and before he knew it, he was parking right outside Gwen’s house. He figured he’d knock on the door instead of texting her that he’s arrived. So that's just what he did, able to hear her curse frantically before he heard footsteps running around crazily. 

 

He must’ve been a little early. 

 

“Come in!” He heard her yell and he slowly opened the front door, seeing Gwen run around the living room before looking over her shoulder, smiling at him as she pulled her pony tail onto her opposite shoulder. “You’re early!” She gasped. 

 

Just as he thought. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He shut the door and took off his shoes. “What are you looking for?” 

 

“My phone.” She answered, blowing her bangs out of her eyes as she bent over to feel between the couch cushions. Seems like her black headband is more for accessory than for purpose. “I just had it, too.” 

 

“Are you sure they’re not in your pants?” He asked. 

 

Her pants could only be described as comfortable. They were this light gray thin material and super baggy he kind of wants to try them on. The pockets look eternal, like there’s a black hole at the bottom. 

 

“I’d feel it if it were, Pete.” Gwen smirked. 

 

He shrugged, putting his hands in his own sweatpant pockets. Today was a chilly, dreary day. Sweatpants are always acceptable on days like this. He shivered and he could already feel that the heat was off in the house. Upon asking about it, Gwen let out a quiet groan. 

 

“Because my grandma is a senile old woman who thinks today is the perfect temperature to keep the windows open.” She answered. “She opened them last night and I shit you not, I wore fleece to bed. We’re not even halfway through September yet!”

 

Peter laughed, glancing her outfit over. Yeah, it seems like Gwen doesn’t like the cold too much. Her fuzzy light pink cardigan seemed super heavy and Peter already knows it must be a nightmare to wash. Her white tank underneath it hugged her body and Peter had to quickly look away from her before his thoughts got bad, looking around the living room to help her look for her phone. 

 

“Gwen,” Peter said after a few minutes of unsuccessful phone hunting. “Are you sure it’s not in your room or something?” 

 

“Help me find it then.” She said as she bolted up the hardwood stairs, and he’s a little surprised her sock covered feet didn’t make her slip. 

 

“Where’s your grandma?” He asked, suddenly nervous because he’s never been in Gwen’s room before and she was a girl and he was a boy and this just seemed impolite and improper. 

 

“Shopping.” Gwen answered as she opened her bedroom door. He stood in her doorway and looked around her room, a very homey feel to it. It honestly looked really cool and it smelled nice. “Your face is on fire, Pete.” 

 

He stopped his little room observation and locked eyes with her, a sly smile on her lips. He opened his mouth to say anything, but he wasn’t so lucky. He took one step back from the doorway and pointed towards where the bathroom was, the open door showing a sink. “I’ll check the bathroom!” 

 

Before she could respond, he was gone and looking around the bathroom, clean and spotless, no sign of a phone. Where the actual hell could that phone be? Unless Gwen’s phone was somehow different from every single phone out there, it didn’t just walk away. 

 

“It’s not here.” He said loudly, hearing Gwen groan in frustration. He walked back to her room, leaning against her door frame as he watched her tear her room apart. “Want me to call it?” 

 

“If you could.” Gwen sighed, planting her hands on her hips, her eyes wandering over every surface in her room. He pulled his own phone out and quickly called Gwen, both stood still and quieted their breathing to hear it. 

 

That’s when Peter heard its vibration sounding against the floor, all the way downstairs. He turned away from Gwen’s room and walked back downstairs, walking back towards the couch that Gwen tore apart. 

 

“Peter, I already looked there.” She grumbled. 

 

But he just dropped to his knees and reached under the couch, immediately grabbing hold of Gwen’s phone. He turned it over in his hand and saw that his contact photo was not the most flattering, but he couldn’t help but chuckle at it. 

 

It was when he and Gwen were in the dance studio back in August and they were doing stretches. His face was red and sweaty and he looked like a mess. But it was also when he and Gwen decided on a whim to just go on their own and dance. It was very fun. 

 

“Thank you.” Gwen smiled when she plucked her phone out of his hand. “I don’t even know how it managed to get under the couch. How did you hear it?” 

 

He remained on his knees as Gwen stood over him, pocketing her phone. Her phone was on vibrate, there’s no way he could say he heard it ring. It was downstairs while they were upstairs, so he can’t say he felt it against the floor.  

 

When Gwen raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, he realized he ran out of time. 

 

“I just have really good ears.” He settled on. 

 

Gwen hummed sarcastically, following his movement as he stood to his feet. “Oh yeah, I’m sure.” 

 

“It’s a superpower of mine.” He joked but immediately felt like kicking himself. He literally had super hearing as a power, why didn’t he just let her have the last word? He could already feel his forehead begin to sweat and the urge to take a run around the block was insistent. 

 

Gwen nodded and made her way over to the shoe rack, pulling on her graffiti’d converse. He let out a silent sigh of relief that she isn’t asking any questions, though he can see the curiosity in her eyes. He’s not sure she’ll be able to keep a hold on her questions if she sees Pepper and Peter feels like he should mentally prepare himself incase that were to occur. 

 

Once both of them had their shoes back on, Gwen locked up the house behind her and they walked to his car, and drove towards the city’s exit. During the car ride, the two blasted music, shot ideas back and forth about the project, and talked about ballet and that was when Natasha was brought up. 

 

“What do you do with her?” Gwen asked, and Peter tried not to tense up. “I didn’t want to ask you this when I first met you, but it’s been nagging at the back of my head ever since. You can’t tell me that it’s only about learning to dance, cause then that’s just bullshit.” 

 

He didn’t take his eyes off the road, the light over the bridge had just turned green and traffic started to move ever so slowly. He was by far not ready to even tell Gwen about that part of his life, but how well can he keep it up when Gwen already knows about Natasha? They’ve been friends for a few months now, so maybe it’s time. But how could it be time when he was friends with Ned for years and still hadn’t told him the truth verbally?

 

“There’s,” Peter cleared his throat. “Some things that I want to tell you. Some things I’m sure you’ll figure out because you’re smart, but…” he licked his lips and he tried to ignore her intense gaze as he turned on a side road that led them into the woods. “I can’t tell you. Yet.” 

 

That’s when he took his eyes off the road to look at Gwen, her face was passive and she slowly nodded, turning back to the road just as he did. “Okay.” She said softly. “Don’t think I won't figure it out.” 

 

Peter chuckled. “I know you will.” And that’s kind of what he’s afraid of today. 

 

“And how was therapy?” She asked. “You didn’t tell me how it went.” 

 

Peter shrugged, not even sure how to answer that. He didn’t hate Garrett but he hated therapy. The questions the man asked him before they started to talk about Peter’s parents was too much. How is being Spider-Man since The Snap? Any panic attacks? Last panic attack you’ve had? I hear you're on medication, talk to me about that, is it working? Do you feel any guilt? Do you have suicidal thoughts? Is being Spider-Man hard now? So forth and so on. 

 

It was exhausting, and the anger that Garrett brought out of Peter was crazy.

 

“It was okay.” Peter shrugged, trying to bring a lighter tone to his voice. He's not sure how well he’s succeeding in that. “He was trying to crack open my mind, gathering intel for his villain buddies to take over New York.” 

 

“You’re deflecting.” Gwen giggled. “And what intel could you offer? Just last week you asked how to spell ceiling.” 

 

“Yeah, well, spelling is hard sometimes, okay?” Peter laughed and the air just felt light again. He knows Gwen will still have questions and he knows he can’t hide everything from her forever. But he can try.

 

No second later, he pulled up onto the long, rocky driveway. He could hear Millie barking and he could make out her shape, trotting towards the car and wagging her tail in a circular motion. 

 

“Oh, it’s Millie! She’s even cuter in person.” Gwen practically became one with the car window as she pressed herself up against it, her voice jumping up an octave or two. “Hi, Millie! Hi, good girl!” 

 

“I don’t think she can hear you, Gweny.” Peter grinned. 

 

“No,” She agreed. “But she can see me and that’s all that matters.” She continued to coo at Millie, even though the dog was several feet behind them now. Peter continued to slowly drive up the road until he came to a complete stop, Harley was still practicing his hits, the automatic pitching machine going strong. 

 

The pair got out together and Millie practically jumped on Gwen, wagging her tail a mile a minute and her tongue flopping out of her mouth. Gwen immediately went to gush over her, laughing when Millie attacked her face with kisses. 

 

Peter looked at the sight and for some reason his heart swelled. Why did he wait so long to introduce Gwen to Millie? He should’ve taken the dog into the city and the two could’ve given Millie a walk together or something. That actually wasn’t such a bad idea…

 

He heard the sound of a metal bat being tossed onto the ground and he turned around and saw Harley looking at him, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Peter could hear his heavy breathing and smell the sweat on Harley’s skin from where he stood and he tried not to wrinkle his nose. 

 

“You need a shower, Harls.” Peter said, causing Gwen to look away from Millie, the dog dropping back down to the ground and trotting around them. “I can smell your stench from here.” 

 

“So it’s a crime to get better at sport?” Harley made his way over to Peter and Gwen, eyes never leaving the blonde. “Hi, I’m Harley.” 

 

“Hi, Harley.” Gwen stepped forwards and offered her hand to his brother. “I’m Gwen.” 

 

“The infamous Gwen.” Harley shook her hand. “You are too cute for my brother.” 

 

Peter balked, eyes wide like plates. “Okay, go shower.” He pushed Harley towards the house, a little too harshly but the boy caught himself before his face could even meet the dirt so Peter didn’t really feel bad. 

 

Gwen laughed awkwardly, her cheeks pink. “Well…” she blew her bangs out of her eyes again. “Your brother is… nice.” 

 

“Oh, yes,” Peter nodded, leading her and the dog to the porch. “Nice is a word you could use.” 

 

Gwen giggled and plopped down close next to him on the couch, rocking it slightly. He reached to grab the instruction paper that was resting on the table next to the couch. “What’s that big brain of yours thinking?” 

 

“Well,” Peter turned his body to face Gwen, his back resting against the arm of the couch as he propped a knee up. “I was thinking we could do a cannon. We have the ability to do that here and we can record it for class.” 

 

“Oh, yeah!” Gwen practically had stars in her eyes, also turning her body to face him. Their knees were touching. “Like an Airzooka toy?” 

 

Exactly! He was glad Gwen was able to catch on. “Yes! But we use scrap parts that we have around here. I have the majority of all we need.” 

 

“You do?” 

 

“Yeah.” Peter shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “That garage over there,” Peter pointed, Gwen following. “I was able to convert it into a workshop of sorts, my mom was nice enough to let me.” 

 

“And when can I meet this mom of yours?” Gwen questioned, moving to fold her arms over her chest as she looked in the windows above the couch. Peter’s grateful the curtains are drawn shut. “Is she inside?”

 

“She’s got a really bad cold.” Peter’s hero, Harley Keener, stepped out from the house, carrying a tray of snacks. “She doesn’t want to spread it to you, says it’s just killer.” 

 

If Peter wasn’t brothers with Harley, he can admit that he’d believe the younger teen. But since he is Harley’s brother, he’s trying hard to fight his smile as Harley played into the lie a little too much. He was grateful that Gwen had her head turned away from him. 

 

“Pregnancy colds are no joke.” Peter added, not meeting Gwen’s eyes as he dipped his head to look over the instructions again, like there was a hidden direction that he hadn’t seen before. If he looks at Gwen, he’s not sure if she’ll believe them. “Thanks, Harley.” 

 

“Eh, I was made to do this.” Harley grumbled as he set the food tray on the outdoor coffee table. He stole a grape from Peter’s bowl. “Tax.” He shrugged. 

 

Peter just shook his head and the two watched Harley disappear into the house, Millie following happily. The pair sat in silence, Peter using his foot that was hanging off the couch to rock them. Distantly, he could hear some ducks quacking to one another as they swam around the lake and he wished it would warm up again so he could swim too.

 

“We have auditions on Monday.” Gwen said softly, she was also looking at the lake. “Right after school.” 

 

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. Gwen being at his house while he’s keeping some major secrets from her is suffocating. Hopefully he’ll get over his dilemma and he won’t have to lie for much longer. “Are you trying out for the Sugar Plum Fairy?” 

 

“Yeah, I am.” Gwen smiled, finally looking at him again and suddenly he was able to breathe again. “As you know, she’s always been my favorite character.” 

 

He did know. When he had dinner with Gwen and Daphne, that was the first he'd heard of her interest in the character. But since then, Gwen kept talking about how cool it would be to be casted as the fairy and how beautiful the outfit would be. 

 

He can’t wait to see her perform. 

 

The two continued to chat and wait for Harry to show up before they got too carried away with their physics plan, Millie would occasionally sit outside with them before wanting to go back inside, Peter was sure he heard Pepper whisper to him (while she was in her room) to keep the dog inside. 

 

He and Gwen ignored Millie’s whines from then on out. 

 

Soon, Harry pulled up onto the rocky driveway, parking next to Peter’s car. He and Gwen both got up off the couch to meet Harry halfway, Peter holding the instructions and his notebook. 

 

“Not going to lie, Parker,” Harry said in greeting, shoving his hands in his sweatshirt pockets as he stood in front of Peter and Gwen. “Thought you gave me directions to my death.” 

 

“Can still be arranged.” Peter heard Gwen mutter before she spoke up, jabbing a thumb behind her. “Get back in your car and keep going straight.” 

 

The lake was a straight shot from where Harry parked and Peter almost wanted to push Gwen’s arm down. “She’s joking,” he said instead. “She’s just joking.” 

 

But Harry continued to stare at Gwen, his expression one of freaked out proportions. Finally, he spoke. “You got a twisted brain, blondie.” 

 

“Alright!” Peter clapped his hands together, not even realizing he positioned himself between Gwen and Harry. “Why don’t we all just start on this project? The sooner we get this done, the more free time we’ll have.” 

 

Harry rolled his shoulders but didn’t object, walking towards the deck while Peter and Gwen stood behind. The blonde huffed and wrapped her arms around herself as she tilted her body away from where Harry was. “What a douche.” 

 

“It takes two to play nice.” Peter shrugged, putting his hands on her shoulders to turn her around, pushing on her lightly to walk the both of them towards the house. 

 

“What? Peter—”

 

“Let’s just get this project done, okay? That way you don’t have to deal with him longer than you want to.” He smiled tightly, Gwen frowning at him. He didn’t want to fight or make Gwen upset, but he’s hoping that if she plays nice, Harry might too. Plus, how embarrassing would it be for Pepper and Harley to hear the two bicker. 

 

Gwen sighed but nodded, muttering a grumpy, “okay” and the two walked over to Harry, the red head was rocking in a chair, looking around like everything intrigued him. There wasn’t much of anything on the porch that showed that the Pepper Potts is now his mother, some pairs of rain boots, gardening supplies here and there, a grill that Peter used just a few days ago. 

 

“So,” Harry said when Peter and Gwen sat back down on the couch, across from the red head. “What’s the game plan?”

 

“We were thinking of doing an air cannon.” Peter said, opening his notebook and handing it over to Harry for him to look over. “We’d film a video so we won’t have to really do much in class.” 

 

Harry hummed, nodding as he looked at the pages. “Okay, right.” 

 

“It would work like an Airzooka toy.” Gwen piped up, and Peter felt relief when her tone didn’t hold anything malicious. “Only bigger.” 

 

Harry hummed again, nodding, and Peter got the sense that Harry had no idea what he was looking at. The teen looked like he was trying, so Peter will give him kudos for that, but they were wasting time. Peter really didn’t want to work on this tomorrow. 

 

“You don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?” Peter asked. 

 

“He did say he wasn’t a science nerd.” Gwen added. 

 

“Hey!” Harry snapped the notebook closed and tossed it to Peter. “I said I wasn’t much of a science nerd. Doesn't mean I didn’t understand the notebook.” 

 

“Did you?” 

 

Harry kept his mouth shut, looking at Peter like he was a deer in headlights. “Well,” he said after a moment. “No. But that doesn’t mean I won’t catch on.” 

 

Gwen once again crossed her arms over her chest but Peter rushed to speak, knowing that she might not be so friendly to Harry. “You’re right. Let’s get the materials and we’ll help you understand as we go.” 

 

---

 

“Are you sure you don’t want my help editing?” Gwen asked over the phone. It was late that Saturday night when she called Peter as he sat in his room, fiddling with the video on his laptop. 

 

It took a few good hours to properly set up the canon and coach Harry on what to say in the video. He kept forgetting his lines or important parts and it got to the point where Gwen literally filled out cards for him to read while she held them up, standing behind Peter as he filmed. 

 

“Gweny,” he chuckled into his hand. “This is the fifth time you’ve asked me. I promise, I can do a little editing by myself.” 

 

“I just feel bad.” Gwen sighed.

 

“Why?” He asked, somewhat absentmindedly as he tried to put Harry’s voice over a specific part of the video. “You helped plenty.” 

 

“I feel like you’re just saying that.” 

 

“I say a lot of things.” Peter said, watching the parts where he and Gwen speak in the video, making sure there wasn’t any unnecessary feedback. “Half the time I don’t even know what I’m talking about.” 

 

He heard Gwen giggle and he felt himself smile in response, not even realizing he did. But truthfully, he’s more than happy to do any final touches, especially now as he was feeling a bit antsy. Millie was behind him, sleeping on his bed and Pepper went to sleep a few hours ago. He could hear Harley playing on his Xbox but otherwise he was alone and he really wasn’t fond of the idea of patrolling this late. The night was still hard to deal with.

 

“If you do need any help, please let me know.” Gwen spoke and Peter nodded, not caring that she couldn’t see him. 

 

“You know I would.” Peter said. With that, the two said their goodbyes and Peter quickly saved the finalized project to a file that he’ll send to Mrs. Warren in the morning. He shut the laptop and sudden fatigue washed over him, gone was the fidgeting he literally just felt. His nightlight burned brightly as he walked past it, his shadow falling onto Millie before he laid down beside her. 

 

He didn’t register falling asleep till he heard the birds chirping the next morning. 

Chapter 12

A week had passed and throughout that week, Gwen auditioned for the Sugar Plum Fairy, Peter somehow advanced in sparring with Natasha, almost beating her. He’s uncertain where that progress suddenly came from but Natasha sure was smug knowing that she was still able to best him. 

 

Kids in lower grades were T-posing (Peter’s just now starting to get back in touch with the media and keeping up with the memes that are surfacing) in the halls and Peter’s never had a problem with his fellow students (whether they’re above or lower than him in grades) doing random stuff in the halls, but blocking the stairs and bathrooms?

 

He’s pushed more kids in a singular week than he has collectively in freshman and sophomore year. 

 

He, Gwen, and Harry got an A on their project, the trio sitting around the smart board as Mrs. Warren let their video play, the class asking questions after the video was done, Peter found it to be almost... nostalgic and it lifted his spirits for the rest of the week.

 

Speaking of Harry, the red head was starting to act more friendly towards Peter and Gwen, even if the blonde finds it a tad bit suspicious but Peter tries to keep her level headed. Sometimes it’s hard but Peter’s not giving up. 

 

Cindy, Sally, Abe, and Charles have been reaching out to him a bit more and it’s a little less weird now, the five of them have been putting up decathlon posters around the school to get more teammates, seeing as five isn’t really an ideal number. 

 

No ones come forward. 

 

“You know I would love to join, but I can’t, not with ballet.” Gwen said when Peter asked if she’d join. “Having a teammate show up twice a week isn’t exactly professional, you know?” 

 

“No thanks, Parker.” Harry shook his head, and though Peter didn’t really ask if he’d want to join, Harry still took his complaint as an invitation. “More into business than science.” 

 

So there Peter was, Friday after school, sitting with his deca team and Mr. Harrington, the first practice since The Snap. 

 

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Harrington began, sitting at the head of the little rectangle desk. “I’m happy that you’re here to lead our deca team to another victory. I know that having five people on a team isn’t what competitions look for but due to recent events, all schools have been given some slack in that regard. Have you guys heard anything from classmates that would like to join?” 

 

Abe shook his head. “Radio silence.” 

 

“For a nerd school you’d think everyone would want to showcase how much of a nerd they are.” Charles twisted his pencil in his hands lazily, and Peter couldn’t agree with Charles' sentiment more. “Does everyone think deca is for losers? Are we losers?” 

 

“I don’t know about me, per say—“ Sally began but was interrupted by the brunette. 

 

“Oh, whatever!” Charles threw his pencil at her and it bounced off her head, the girl only blinked. “Even Flash was on the team!” 

 

“As an alternative.” Cindy pointed out and Peter could almost see a vein popping out of her forehead. He's not sure why she and Charles were getting so worked up, but he didn’t want to be the subject of their (a little overly dramatic) wrath. 

 

But even as he thought to keep himself in the clear, his mouth, for some reason, worked on its own accord. “I think he was made to join.” 

 

Cindy glared at him like he just insulted her grandmother, and if he remembers freshman year correctly, no one insults Cindy’s grandmother.

 

“Guys, let’s chill.” Mr. Harrington said, reaching for Charles' pencil and tossed it back to him. “Don’t make stationary fly, especially at your classmates.” He then clapped his hands together and smiled brightly, like the past few minutes didn’t happen. “But the state has recognized how… tough this year has been and so they decided that the decathlon team that wins nationals will get a week long trip to Europe!” 

 

Peter’s eyes widened but not for the same reason as his teammates. They all gasped in shock and delight, looking at each other in disbelief. But Peter? Peter felt something cold wash over him for reasons he can’t explain. 

 

“What's the catch, Mr. Teacher-Man?” Charles asked. Peter felt himself nod, is the state going to help pay for everything? Will they, the students, have to worry about their own tickets? Peter doesn’t have a passport and he’s pretty sure his teammates don’t either. 

 

“Details are to be seen, especially since nationals are a few months away.” Mr. Harrington answered. “That’s all I really have to say for this meeting, we’ll be back here Monday after school and start practicing, okay?” 

 

The idea of Monday makes Peter want to throw up, the weekend just started and Monday is already looming over Peter’s head. 

 

School sucks. 

 

---

 

“Peter! Peter! Peter!”

 

“You know we’re in New York, right?” Peter smiled as Gwen rushed to meet him in a park close to the school, minutes after decathlon practice ended. She had texted him to meet her as soon as possible. “Someone might think you’re getting mugged.”

 

“Their fault if they mistake excitement for fright.” Gwen snarked before the smile returned to her face, jumping around him. “Anyway! Guess who got a call back for the Sugar Plum Fairy!” She squealed.

 

“Oh, no way!” Peter wrapped an arm over Gwen’s shoulders, pulling her into a side hug as the two began walking out of the park, the bustling streets awaiting them. “That’s awesome!” 

 

“It’s between me and my friend Janessa.” Gwen said, wrapping her own arm around Peter’s waist, the two walking instep with each other. “I just hope this doesn’t put a strain on our friendship.” 

 

Peter made a face. He can’t imagine not being friends with Ned anymore just because he won an award Peter hoped to get, that just seems silly. “Would it?” 

 

Gwen looked up at him, shrugging. “How could it not? Peter, friendships have been destroyed over things like this, has been a thing since the dawn of time.” 

 

“Oh, my bad, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” Peter heard Gwen huff and lightly slap his chest in retaliation. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He chuckled. “When do you go back?” 

 

“Monday.” Gwen beamed. 

 

It’s always Monday, Peter thought with a silent groan. He’s forgotten about the Monday-dreads. “You’ll do great.” 

 

“Don’t feed my hope, Pete.” Gwen untangled herself from under his arm, running ahead to gesture dramatically towards an ice cream shop. “Feed my sweet tooth instead!” 

 

Peter followed her inside and the two got their cups of ice cream. Gwen practically threw herself at the glass that hovered over the cold dessert, trying to decide which flavor to get. Peter peered over her shoulder and saw the usual assortment before seeing the “Avenger’s Section”. 

 

A Hunk of Hulk’s Burning Fudge, Stark Raving Hazelnut, Rocky Rhodes, Double Vision, etc etc. 

 

Peter almost felt sick looking at those flavors. 

 

“Oh, look, they have Spider-Man.” Gwen pointed, and Peter’s eyes followed her finger. The sick feeling suddenly went away as he peered at Spectacular Cider-Man which was not in the Avenger’s section. 

 

A while ago, he would’ve felt hurt and slightly offended to know that New York didn’t consider him an Avenger. To be fair, he wasn’t publicly announced as such, so he’s not sure where his younger self would’ve gotten the audacity to feel left out, but now he couldn’t really care less if New York thought he was an Avenger or not. 

 

“It looks good, but I think I’ll stick with my strawberry cheesecake.” Gwen decided, the ice cream worker nodded as he began working on it. Peter thinks he’ll give his flavor a shot. 

 

Once they paid, they decide to sit down inside, seeing as it’s gotten a bit too windy and Gwen voiced how she didn’t want her hair in her ice cream. But, Peter thought dejectedly a minute later, all good things must end. 

 

Police sirens came from far and wide, Peter picking up on them before the other inhabitants of the ice cream shop did. He looked outside once he knew that the others could hear it as well, and something fast flew past the window, and that’s when Peter’s sixth sense went crazy. 

 

~GET DOWN~

 

He felt like he was moving in slow motion, practically throwing the table out of the way and launched himself at Gwen, tackling her to the ground, covering her body with his. No second later, the street that Peter had his back to exploded. Peter heard people, both outside and inside, scream in terror and surprise. Looking up, many people hit the deck, Gwen’s face pressed hard into his shoulder and she gripped him tightly. 

 

Dust had flown into the shop as the windows and glass door had shattered, Peter feeling the shards pelt his back. His own ears were ringing and he felt disoriented, almost collapsing entirely on Gwen.

 

“You okay?” He asked and he felt her nod against him. He looked behind him and saw the torn up street, the buildings that weren’t safe from the explosions, the cop cars that slammed on their brakes to avoid falling into the craters. 

 

“What was that?” Gwen mumbled, peeling her face out of his shoulder. 

 

Peter couldn’t answer because a laugh responded instead, sounding far and high. Gwen gasped and Peter struggled to his feet, pulling Gwen up as well. 

 

“Where is the Spider-Man!” The voice cackled, shivers ran up Peter’s back and Gwen’s hand clenched his hand tighter. Everyone in the shop froze and held their breaths. Peter needed to get out of here now. “Come out to play, Spider!” 

 

“Oh, shit.” Gwen gripped his hand with a new vigor, practically pulling him into her. “We have to go! Grandma is only a few blocks from here, we have to make sure she’s okay!” 

 

And this is where the lies really need to be believable. “Gwen, you have to go. I… need to use the bathroom.” 

 

“What? Now? Really?!” Gwen shrieked, looking at him like he grew two heads. 

 

So much for being believable. “I’ll be right behind you,” Peter ripped his hand out of hers, grabbed his bag from off the floor, and tumbled towards the bathroom as everyone else quickly ran out of the shop. “Just go!” 

 

“Peter, no—!” Gwen grunted when someone knocked shoulders with her, making her take a few steps back as more and more ran into her. “Don’t be stupid, get back here!”

 

“Right behind you!” And with that, he swung open the men’s bathroom door, throwing his backpack down and yanked his suit out. He felt bad leaving Gwen like that, but how else would he be able to run after whoever is terrorizing Queens? 

 

Peeking his head out, he saw that the shop was empty and swung out, following the sounds of yells and laughter, explosions and chaos. He pivoted over buildings and ran along windows, his heart beating fast. 

 

This is so exhilarating, he’s only ever really stopped robberies or muggings, Toomes was his first official “baddy” and then it was Thanos. Whoever this laughing clown was, Peter hoped it was something he could clean up quickly. Dinner would be soon, anyways.

 

Landing on a light post, a man on a flying hoverboard was all Peter had his attention on. He was sporting a dark green suit that looked thick and heavy and a mask that looked like a demonic jester or goblin. Below him were overturned cars and broken roads, some fires from the explosion spreading fast as civilians either took cover or remained stuck under debris. No one looked seriously injured, thankfully. 

 

“Yes, Spider-Man!” Someone shouted and the man snapped his head in Peter’s direction. Peter felt his eyes widen slightly, getting a better look at this clown's suit. Knives were strapped to his arms, legs, and belt. Kevlar is what Peter would now identify the suit as, something Peter considered making his own suit out of at one point, but while he knows it’s great for protection, Spider-Manning in Kevlar would not be fun. 

 

“Oh, so the spider comes out of hiding.” The green apple wannabe sneered, lowering his glider as Peter stood to his full height on the lamppost. “So meek.” 

 

“I have a question.” Peter said, pointing his finger to the sky. “I actually have many questions.” 

 

“I’m not here to talk, you fool.” 

 

“Really? Because I was hoping to get my Q and A on.” Peter shrugged before turning more serious. “I don’t know who you are or why you sound like William Defoe, but you need to leave. Now. New York doesn’t want to deal with this right now, man.” 

 

“We don’t always get what we want, Spider-Man.” With that, the clown’s glider protruded sharp knives, aimed straight at Peter’s chest. They shot at him at a very impressive speed, but Peter was faster. He jumped up off the lamp post and shot a web at the tallest corner of the nearest building and swung towards the clown, bringing both his legs straight out and put his feet together, colliding into the man. 

 

He wasn’t sure who this man was, or if he was powered, but he didn’t want to take any chances if this was just a normal man. Peter didn’t want to be responsible for caving in his chest. 

 

The man must’ve been strapped to his hoverboard because when he fell, the board went with him. Peter landed on the pavement and looked back at where the knives impaled themselves, he was relieved to find that they got stuck in buildings rather than people. Turning back to the bad guy, he quickly struck a web to his glider and yanked him into the already broken road, trying to see if he could somehow disconnect them from each other because that’s where the disadvantage lies. 

 

The clown started to laugh and brought out a large knife, almost a miniature sword, from his glove and sliced the web in half. “Oh, Spider-Man, futile attempt!”

 

“No harm in trying, right?” Peter struck another web to a building, swinging himself around the clown in an attempt to draw him away from the civilians in the street. “Hey, so, uh, what can I call you?” 

 

“Die, Spider-Man!” The guy yelled and used his glider to race at Peter. His miniature sword was still out and aimed at Peter again. 

 

“Mm, sounds tacky.” It really did, Peter almost cringed. “What about… Flying Green Elf?” He quickly dodged the knife swing by flipping over the clown, using that move to twist and kick the clown in the back.

 

Peter let gravity take over and he fell below the glider, shooting a web in the center of it and when his feet connected with the road, he stuck himself to it and started to swing the bad guy in a circle above him, going faster and faster until he finally let go, watching the green elf collide into a nearby billboard. 

 

“Oh, sorry, was that too hard?” Peter winced, but his words were laced with sarcasm. “Sorry, man.” 

 

The clown unstuck himself from the dented metal and his hoverboard sprang to life again, and this time, little tiny green balls fell from the board around the hero. Peter only had a second to let his sixth sense spring to life before the street exploded around him, knocking him off his feet. He couldn’t even collect his bearings as the loud blasts kept coming and for some odd reason he thought he felt liquid coming from his ears.

 

Reaching a shaky hand to his ear, he gently touched around it and heard the tell tale sound of blood pooling out of his ears. His eardrums had burst. All around him were muffled sounds, ringing, and his focus was even off kilter.

 

Wonderful.

 

“Not so tough now, are you, Spider-Man?” If Peter had to guess, the villain was grinning, as muted as it sounded. “Get up!” 

 

And that’s what Peter did, his balance basically nonexistent, but he managed to straighten his back and quick as lightning, he shot a web at the man’s face, blocking his sight of the world. The clown roared and clawed at his face, trying to rip away webbing but was unsuccessful as it came off in strings, making a bigger mess than anything else. 

 

Peter ran over to a broken stop sign, waiting until the clown could see him clearly before making his move. Like a frisbee, Peter whipped it at the clown and it knocked the man down, his grunt telling Peter all it needed to. The man was still trying to regain his balance on his hoverboard and Peter shot a web to the green suit, yanking the man to be right in front of Peter. 

 

“You really should practice using your RipStik.” Peter advised before punching him in the face, the man crashed into the ground. “I don’t think Flying Green Elf works,” Peter said, circling the goblin face, practically seeing the steam escape through his covered ears. “See, I keep calling you a clown in my head, but now that I’m really getting a good look at you, that’s just not right.” 

 

The man growled as he rose up in the air, Peter quickly following. He scaled the side of a slightly damaged building and that’s when the Shrek cosplayer attacked. The bombs that produced from his glider were suddenly in his hands and he shot them at Peter like they were missiles, the building coming undone in seconds. Peter jumped off the slabs of broken cement and stuck his web to a different structure and connected a web to the villain’s blade, quickly breaking it off and then chucked it back at the man, stabbing the hoverboard right between the man’s feet, the force making him wobble. 

 

Peter used the elf’s distraction to his advantage and he quickly changed his trajectory to slam his feet right into the man’s chest, sending him to the ground, dust clouds forming around. Peter dropped down beside him and raised his knee to stomp on the glider, breaking it to pieces. 

 

“No!” Greenie yelled, struggling to his feet, stumbling as his board chipped off his boots. Peter had to give it to the man, he didn’t back down. But Peter didn’t either. 

 

“I’ll destroy you, and everyone you love! I’ll figure out who you are behind that mask and you won’t even know the definition of mercy when I’m done with you!” 

 

Peter just nodded, because, what? This guy was… mischievous and cocky, and Peter was ready to end this fight now. He was tired. “Uh huh. Whatever you say, Green Goblin.” Oh! That wasn’t that bad! 

 

With a grunt, Green Goblin grabbed a slab of concrete and chucked it at Peter. He flipped over it and watched as it slammed into a bodega. Hopefully no one was in there. 

 

So, Green Goblin has super strength. Good to know. Peter shot a web at Goblin’s fist, using his other hand to shoot another at Goblin’s remanding hand, criss crossing them in a makeshift straight jacket of some sort. Maybe that’s what Goblin needs. 

 

“I think it’s time that we all go home, Greenie.” Spiderman said, shooting more webs around Goblin’s torso to secure the webs a bit more. 

 

“This isn’t the last time you’ll see me, Spider-Man!” Green Goblin laughed hysterically and whistled, his stance looking like he was ready to bolt for it. 

 

~JUMP~

 

Peter lunged to his left just as another glider with knives and spikes poking out of every side and corner whistled past where Peter was just standing, and Green Goblin laughed again, his arm straining against the webbing. 

 

“You really think I’d let you win?” Green Goblin shook his head and clicked his tongue condensindly. “Oh, Spider-Man… this will be fun.”

 

Peter could only watch as Green Goblin hopped on his board and flew away, his figure disappearing in a cloud of green smoke, leaving Peter alone in a broken street. His hearing was already repaired, but the blood was dry and starting to itch. He looked down at his suit and saw how singed it became, but luckily there weren’t any rips. Nothing that can’t be fixed. 

 

Peter sighed tiredly. “Okay…” 

 

So much for this weekend being relaxing. 

 

---

 

He quickly swung around the city to help out, see if anyone was in need of assistance while first responders did what their duties were. He helped deliver water and shock blankets, kept kids laughing, helped with finding people, their family or friends, there was never a quiet moment. 

 

Then he came across the ice cream shop and his heart dropped. He ran inside and immediately went to the bathroom, seeing if his backpack was still there. It wasn’t. 

 

“Oh, that’s not good.” He mumbled to himself and ran out of the shop again, looking around for anyone that could have his bag. “This is so not good.”

 

But maybe life was feeling a little bit of pity for Peter because that’s when he heard her voice. “Peter?” She called. 

 

Peter looked around for Gwen, following the sound of her voice. She kept calling out for him, and he was really starting to feel bad about leaving her. He could’ve sworn he heard her sniffle. 

 

Finally, he came across her. Gwen was walking through the crowds, sporting two backpacks; hers and his. She wasn’t hurt, looking just as she did when he left her in the ice cream shop earlier. “Peter!” She called, her voice mingled with the other voices calling out for their loved ones. 

 

“Hey!” He waved his hand as he jogged up to her, ignoring the looks of others around them. Gwen’s eyes widened as he approached her. “Hey, uh, you’re Gwen?” 

 

Somehow, her blue eyes got even wider. 

 

“Yeah, I, uh, ran into Peter earlier. He's been looking for you.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with this. He really hoped she didn’t recognize his voice even if he pitched it lower than necessary. “He’s okay, you don’t have to keep looking for him.” 

 

“He is?” She said, almost breathlessly. “Where is he? I need to see him.” 

 

Crap. “Oh, well this was earlier earlier, so he could’ve moved around since I last spoke to him. But if you give me his bag, I can find him for you and he can meet you here?” 

 

He hoped she’d believe him, that she’d hand over his pack and trust the hero without a doubt. But the blonde only tightened her hold on the strap. Double crap. 

 

“I need to see him.” She said, her voice slightly stronger. “Take me to the last place you saw him. Please.” 

 

“You don’t trust me?” 

 

“I trust my eyes more.” 

 

Peter stared at her, slightly taken aback by how fiercely Gwen acted towards his alter ego. He knew she’s a fan of Spider-Man, he would’ve thought she wouldn’t have given it a second thought in following Spider-Man’s requests. But here he was, standing in front of this girl that looked like she had fire in her eyes, and it was all for him. 

 

He was glad he had a mask to cover his blush. 

 

“Peter said he didn’t have his phone on him. I’m assuming you tried calling him?” At her nod, he continued. “He needs his backpack because his phone is in it.” And his wallet, keys, clothes. “I’ll make sure he calls you as soon as he has his backpack, okay?”

 

But Gwen still hesitated, looking around his head to stare at the throngs of people in the street, the lights coming off of police cruisers, ambulances, fire trucks. The sounds of people either reuniting or crying as they realize some didn’t make it through the attack. It was mayhem. Peter tried to not let the noise get to him. He’s helped out as much as he could. 

 

Finally, Gwen relented. “Okay.” She handed Peter his own bag, not that she knew that. He smiled, telling her thanks before he started to swing through the city, acting like he was looking for himself as he knew Gwen was watching. Once she was out of sight, he landed in a deserted alleyway, unnerved by the shadows that erupted around him as the sun began to set. He had to get Gwen home fast. 

 

He practically tore his costume off him as he got back in his clothes, making sure to spray his cologne so he didn’t smell like sweat. He didn’t need Gwen questioning why, even if he could say he was running away from the fight.

 

He emerged from the alleyway, rubbing the dry blood away from his ears and all but sprinted back to where Gwen was, moving through people like he was made of water. Fishing his phone out of his jeans pocket, and quickly dialed Gwen’s number. It didn’t even make it to the first ring. 

 

“Peter? Are you okay? Where are you?” 

 

“Gwen, hey, I’m okay.” He really was. He muttered quiet apologies to those he accidently bumped into. “Where are you? I’ll come find you.” 

 

“Uh, I’m on the corner of West 34th Street and 6th Avenue.” She answered, and he could just imagine her running her hands through her hair. “Where did you go?” 

 

There was that sniffle. He didn’t want her to cry. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I’m coming right up to you, I’ll be right there.” He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and as soon as he turned the corner, he saw her. She was standing right where he left her, but this time she was slightly hunched and he could see her biting on her thumb, glaring at her phone. 

 

“Gwen!” He called, waving his arm in the air to get her attention. She looked up and her thumb dropped from her mouth as she ran up to him. He wasn’t expecting her to cling to him like a koala. 

 

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” She kept repeating, holding him tightly. He wrapped his own arms around her, nodding along to her words. “You lied.” He heard her mumble in his ear. “You weren’t right behind me. I… I was so scared that… I mean—”

 

“Everything’s okay, Gwen.” He said, pulling away from her. He saw her drop slightly and he didn’t even realize she was on her tippy toes when they hugged. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

 

“Where did you go?” She asked softly. His hands were still on her shoulders and hers were on his back. He suddenly felt suffocated. “Why leave your backpack?” 

 

Ah, shit. “Panic?” 

 

She frowned, looking at him like he just told the biggest and stupidest lie of the century. In a way, he did. “Peter.” 

 

“Why don’t we go over everything later?” He suggested. He’s maybe still a little antsy from that fight, the sounds were starting to get to him, the sun wasn't stopping its descent, and Gwen still looked like she wanted to cry. “Let’s just get you home, okay?” 

 

She slowly nodded, like she was also becoming overwhelmed. The adrenaline from earlier was still present but it wasn’t mixing well with the atmosphere right now. They walked hand-in-hand away from the main part of the city and when Peter dropped her off at her doorstep, she hesitated. 

 

“What's wrong?” He asked, looking over to see if the lights were on in the house. He knew Gwen had her keys and he could hear the TV play from the living room, the news reporter detailing Green Goblin’s attack. 

 

She slowly turned around to face him, their height level with each other as she stood on a couple of stairs above him while he stood on the sidewalk. Her hand was still clutching his and maybe if he didn’t have super strength, he would’ve been wincing. 

 

Gwen made eye contact with him and oh did he feel bad. She looked scared and angry all at once. “Peter Parker, you scared you today.” She said lowly. “I mean it. I thought you were going to die.” He stayed silent, brushing his thumb over her hand. “If I had just stayed with you, where I could see you, this would be different but…” she let out a shaky breath. “I’m really happy you’re not dead.” 

 

He huffed out a laugh as her bluntness, nodding along. “I’m glad you’re not dead, too.” 

 

They were very close still, even if the steps were between them. Gwen’s eyes kept shifting from his hair to his eyes, his cheeks and lips, and he strangely didn’t find it to be uncomfortable. He continued to let her analyze his face, knowing that she must need that reassurance that he’s still alive. 

 

He truthfully didn’t think he would’ve died today anyways. 

 

The air between them became thick and silent, the city sounds being blocked by houses and trees, the setting sun giving Gwen a golden look, she almost looked unreal. He felt his heart pick up as neither of them moved, still holding each other's hands. 

 

Gwen took a tiny shuffle forwards, reaching her unoccupied hand up to wrap around his shoulders, bringing him in for another hug. Their hands disconnected as it turned from a one armed hug into two. 

 

“Everything’s okay.” He said, and she pulled her face away from his shoulder, their faces only inches apart. Her blue eyes were like a whirlpool and Peter could honestly say he’s never seen such beautiful eyes before. “Don’t be scared anymore.” 

 

She didn’t say anything, didn’t even nod or hum. Peter felt his lips part as if they had a mind of their own, and he slightly leaned his head towards her, Gwen didn’t move, only continued to stare at him. He wasn’t sure what he should be feeling in this moment, but he just knows that she fits perfectly in his arms. 

 

Her grip on him tightened just a smidge but Peter didn’t mind. The wind blowed her hair perfectly and her lips were inviting and if Peter could just-

 

A sudden bang on the door made both of them flinch. Gwen sighed and she unwrapped her arms from around his shoulders, taking a few steps back from him. “Sorry.” She mumbled. 

 

He shook his head. “It’s fine.” 

 

The two stayed standing, the air suddenly awkward between them. Gone was the tension, gone was the wind (somehow), gone was the opportunity of something that Peter didn’t even realize he wanted. 

 

“I’ll, uh, see you Monday?” He tried, stuffing his hands in his pockets, playing with a small pebble with his shoe. 

 

Gwen nodded, inching towards the door, wrapping her arms around herself. “Monday. Have a good night, Peter. Let me know when you get home.” Then she was gone, leaving Peter alone outside. 

 

Fixing his backpack, he started to walk away, barely registering an alleyway that he found. He put his suit back on, finally swinging home for the night, it’s cheaper than hailing a taxi, especially right now. Hopefully Green Goblin waits to make his appearance until next week. 

 

---

 

“Really, Grandma?” Gwen sighed as she closed the door behind her. Daphne stood in front of her with her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. “Why?” 

 

“Oh, no, missy.” Daphne wagged a finger. “I’m sorry I interrupted but having you inside the house seemed much more important than you having your first kiss.” 

 

It wasn’t Gwen’s first kiss, but her grandma didn’t need to know that. But Daphne did raise a good point. Gwen should’ve been home hours ago, and now that the green freak attacked, Gwen’s sure Daphne wouldn’t let her out much for a while. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Daphne said again, this time softer. “I just wanted you home.” 

 

Gwen nodded and let Daphne pull her in for a hug. Gwen made sure to call her grandma as soon as Gwen was someplace safe, refusing to come home until she found Peter. She didn’t mean to cause her grandma stress but she couldn’t just leave her… well, whatever Peter is to her now. 

 

“I got a callback today.” Gwen murmured, blinking in surprise when Daphne yanked Gwen away from her, her grandma gripping her shoulders tightly. 

 

“What?” Daphne gasped. “Gwen, that’s amazing!” 

 

“It’s between me and Janessa.” Gwen explained, trying to ignore the way her grandma's nails were digging into her shoulders. “I have to go back on Monday.” 

 

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s just incredible.” Daphne tugged Gwen close again, holding her tightly. Gwen’s eyes shut and she just now noticed how exhausted she was, trying to not lean too heavily on her grandma. Crazy how adrenaline and terror can affect the body. “This is your first big role, isn’t it?” 

 

Gwen only nodded. It really was, all the other times her ballet school had shows, she and everyone else her age or younger got either background characters or was part of the ensemble. It was right around Gwen’s age where the girls got bigger roles. 

 

“Oh, your mother would be so proud of you.” Daphne whispered and Gwen furrowed her eyebrows, opening her eyes and staring at the doorway that led to the kitchen. Her mother would be proud, Gwen knows that deep down. 

 

Elaine has always shown her pride and support in Gwen no matter which role she got, and it was hard knowing that her mother wasn’t here now to celebrate. 

 

“I…” Gwen’s voice broke. “I was so close to calling her.” She admitted. “It’s like I forgot what happened… I just—I wasn’t even thinking—”

 

Daphne shushed her gently, and Gwen’s eyes closed again, fighting the tears that quickly wanted to fall. Once she hung up with the director of her school, she immediately scrolled to click on her mothers name and that’s when she clocked back into reality. She didn’t cry when she remembered her mother was one of the Dusted, she kind of just stared at her phone screen until it shut off before she put it away. 

 

“Peter also disappeared…” Gwen continued, not caring that she already explained everything to her grandma over the phone earlier. “I didn’t mean to worry you, but he was gone and I—what kind of person would I be if I just left him?” 

 

“He told you to leave, sweetheart.” Daphne responded. “He cared about your safety enough to push you away.” 

 

“But I don’t know why.” Gwen pulled away from her grandma, blinking to get rid of the tears. She will not let them fall. “Why couldn’t he have run out with me? Then Spider… Man…” 

 

It was like a lightbulb finally turned on in her head. Gwen always knew something was strange with Peter, she was immediately tipped off when she saw him dancing with Natasha freaking Romanov. 

 

The obvious muscles that she feels when they dance, much too toned for any regular high schooler. And instead of showing them off like so many usually do, he covers them up with baggy clothing. Then the secrecy about his family, what he does when he suddenly disappears or the reflexes he has. How was he able to tackle Gwen before the bomb went off? She was staring outside at the same time he was, there was no way he saw bombs drop from the air because she sure didn’t.

 

Him running towards the bathroom, then seemingly vanishing without his bag when Gwen ran back to the shop moments later when she finally separated from the crowds.

 

Then the interaction she had with Spider-Man, the way his voice was obviously adjusted like he didn’t want her to recognize him, the way he was so insistent about getting Peter’s bag. She was tired and desperate to have Peter where she could see him that she didn’t put up much of a fight. 

 

And it was the way he didn’t even seem scared. He let her hold him and just kept saying that everything would be okay, to no longer be scared. She didn’t even realize in the moment because she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts and mumbles. He was too composed, not something she’d have expected. 

 

There’s no way… 

 

“Gwen?” Daphne spoke. “What about Spider-Man?”

 

Gwen quickly shook her head, taking a few steps back from her grandma, shuffling towards the stairs. “Nothing!” She said way too loudly. “Ah, sorry. Nothing. He's just… super cool, we’re lucky he’s protecting us.” She hopped up on the stairs, leaning against the railing. “I’m going to head to bed, see you tomorrow! Love you!” 

 

She dashed up the steps, not hearing her grandma respond. Shutting her door, she leaned against it, trying to process what she just discovered. Or maybe she was reaching a little too far with this one. She’s known Peter since July, only three months and yet she feels like she’s known him for years. 

 

They hung out so much during the summer and now during and after school, it never felt like this was Maya, Camile, or Lexi. It took months for Gwen to even feel comfortable calling them on the phone, forget about hanging out with them right away. 

 

And now she (maybe, potentially, she thought) knows his secret. Should she question him about it? Probably not, he’d just deny it and he’s really not too good at lying on the spot so she’d have her answer whether he told her or not. 

 

She slapped her hands to her cheeks, suddenly feeling like her face was on fire. She almost kissed him! He almost kissed her! Was that too soon? She knows so little but so much about him, they’ve only been friends for three months and they almost kissed! 

 

She slid down her door, bringing her knees to her chest. She’s always thought he was cute, it was mostly his dancing that grabbed her attention, his looks were just an added bonus. Her friendship with him, her attraction, her interest has never been about Spider-Man, always Peter. 

 

The revelation did nothing about how she felt. Sure, she’s a fan of Spider-Man, always thought he was cool. But it’s Peter Parker she’d rather spend her time with. 

 

The hands covering her cheeks moved up to cover her eyes. 

 

I’m in trouble. 

 

Notes:

JUST A FEW NOTES:

I know in the comics Gwen’s mom’s name isn’t Elaine but there’s a reason why I changed it, it just won’t be revealed for a while.

I also know that in FFH, decathlon isn’t the group that goes to Europe but I thought it would be more fun this way.

And the Monday-dreads is something a lot of high school students deal with, so why should Peter be any different, you know?

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!

Chapter 13

Garrett searched tirelessly for more clues on who Peter Parker was, besides all the basic information he was given; like his birthdate, his full name, his alter ego, where he went to school, etc etc. 

 

He was to have his second session with Peter in a couple of hours, the last one being two weeks ago. While it wasn’t a total success, it did reveal a fact about Peter that Garrett wouldn’t have known otherwise. 

 

Richard Parker is not Peter Parker’s father. 

 

He truthfully doesn't know why he’s so interested in this, it wasn’t really his business. But he was so intrigued, and he kind of wanted Peter to know. Garrett just wouldn’t be the one to deliver that news. No thanks. 

 

He tried asking agents who created the file, when it was created, and each answer got shrugs and shakes of heads. It finally left him no choice but to seek out that one certain spy. 

 

“You spar with him,” Garrett said when he found Natasha practicing shooting a couple of targets that look mangled beyond belief. “You know him. Is there any way you know this fact?” 

 

Handing her the file, Natasha pulled the earmuffs off, and gave him an uninterested look but otherwise opened the yellow folder. Garrett stayed silent while Natasha looked it over, and when he saw her eyes freeze, he knew she saw what he wanted her to. 

 

“All I know is that someone here made this file on him, most likely when he started to work with Stark.” Garrett said, Natasha looking up at him and this time not looking bored out of her mind. 

 

“I’d have to gamble that Fury did.” Natasha murmured, looking back down at the file. “If not him, then definitely Hill.” 

 

Two problems. Both of them were Dusted. 

 

“But how did they know?” Garrett asked, taking the folder back. “Richard and Mary Parker had zero affiliation with SHIELD. Unless Fury somehow got Peter and Richard’s DNA, there’s no way to know that fact.” 

 

“He had to have a reason to look for it besides making a file.” Natasha agreed, hanging her earmuffs on the rack and unloading her gun, putting it back on a cart for a weaponry agent to clean. “Something about Peter must’ve tipped him off.” Looking back at Garrett, Natasha asked, “Are you sure you did a thorough background check on Richard and Mary?” 

 

“As much as I’m able.” Garrett nodded. “I don’t really work with computers.” 

 

Natasha hummed, nodding. “I’ll double check for you. See all that you missed.” 

 

Ignoring the dig, Garrett was just glad that the spy was willing to help. “Thank you.” 

 

---

 

That night, Garrett ate dinner with his family, and although he talked and contributed to conversations, his mind was elsewhere. What will Natasha find? Why was he so interested in this kid's life? Something in his gut told him that this will benefit Peter in more ways than one and hopefully, it would help the kids' head a little. 

 

The session wasn’t a disaster, he was still reserved but there was this strange air surrounding Peter. Like he was relaxed and giddy but also stressed and concerned. Garrett knew it might’ve had something to do with the newest villain that Peter was dealing with: Green Goblin. 

 

He remembers hearing it on the news and the way his kids lit up talking about how cool Spider-Man was. He’s glad that Peter has that effect on people, it would be a real shock for people to learn that he was just a teenage boy struggling with his head and everything fumbling around in it. 

 

“We played superheroes at recess today!” His daughter, Alana, said, happily kicking her feet as she ate her meatloaf. “I was Scarlet Witch!” 

 

“And I was Iron Man,” his son, Spencer, nodded enthusiastically. “I even drew his mustache!”

 

“Which is why I had to pause dinner and clean your face.” Garrett snorted at what his wife said. Spencer’s face was still a little red from where Liza scrubbed with a washcloth. Liza pointed at him with her fork. “Don’t do that again.” 

 

“Daddy, did you know Iron Man?” Spencer asked, smiling cheekily at Liza before his attention was back on Garrett. His twins don't really understand the gravity of the destruction the world went through all those months ago. They knew one day people just went poof, but it’s like asking a kid to deeply understand any of the wars that happened in America’s history. They just can’t. 

 

But Garrett nodded. “Oh yeah, I knew Iron Man. I know all the Avengers, actually.” He smirked as he saw the way his kids somehow lit up even more. These kids love superheroes. 

 

“Are they cool in real life?” Alana asked, stars in her eyes. 

 

“Super cool.” No way would he tell his kids that he only knows them because they came to him for mental help. “Maybe one day you guys can meet some of them.” 

 

“I hope to meet Spider-Man.” Spencer said, tearing into his food like it was going to run away from him. “He’s so awesome! A girl in my art class said her older brother got an autograph from him once!” 

 

“No fair, I want one!” Alana grumbled and Garrett silently groaned, Liza seemingly sharing his thoughts as she rubbed her forehead. 

 

“Do you know Spider-Man too?” Spencer asked, ignoring his sister. Garrett looked up again to stare at his son, his brown eyes shining in the dining room light. “He’s not an Avenger but he could be!” 

 

“He is.” Garrett said, Liza raising an eyebrow at him. He tried to tell her as much as he could about his job, but all she knows is that Garrett’s been holding therapy sessions with the webslinger. “Just not publicly. Don’t you be telling your friends though. It’s a secret Spider-Man entrusted me with. You don't want to break Spider-Man’s trust, do you?” 

 

At once, Alana and Spencer shook their heads. Spider-Man was their overall favorite hero and the seven year olds dreamed of the day they could meet him. Garrett would never mention it to Peter directly, it just seems wrong to have his patient do something for his kids. 

 

Once dinner was wrapped up and the twins were playing in their room, Liza approached Garrett as he was washing dishes, hand on her hip as she leaned back against the counter. “When were you going to tell me Spider-Man is an Avenger? I could write an article about it and make the first page—”

 

“That wouldn’t do much good.” Garrett interrupted, not looking up from the task at hand. “Spider-Man was made an Avenger by Tony Stark, moments before they had to fight Thanos.” He then looked up, stopping his washing. “If that information hasn’t been released to the public by now, then I think Spider-Man would like to stay detached from that title.” 

 

“You think or you know?” Liza asked, her subtle hint at his therapy sessions with the hero wasn’t missed by Garrett. Truth be told, the kid hasn’t told him anything about that, he’s still a closed book. All the prodding Garrett did this session was just as fruitless as the last session. 

 

Instead, he said, “I believe.” And he turned back to the dishes. His wife was the lead editor of a company called Dispatch and she moved from being a columnist to a journalist, something she’s always been passionate about. 

 

He felt her stare at him for a little while longer before she walked away. Garrett — as much as he loves his wife — still couldn’t tell her everything, and he knows that the reporter in her struggles to accept that fact. The reporter and the SHIELD agent clash a lot of the time but he cannot imagine living without her. 

 

The idea alone scares him to his core.

 

---

 

“Are you boys ready to go?” Pepper asked from the foyer. Peter stumbled around in his room, trying to slip his socks on while Millie watched from his bed, wagging her tail slowly as she watched him struggle. 

 

Peter blew air out of his mouth, ruffling his hair slightly. “Almost!” He yelled, almost falling as he finally got his sock on. He doesn’t know why it was so difficult to do now. 

 

It was now September 22nd, and Pepper’s appointment with Dr. Cho was in an hour. They were finally going to see if Peter was getting a little brother or sister. Harley was even trying to make bets now. 

 

“For a super, you sure are slow.” Harley said, leaning against Peter’s door frame. The dog perked up even more but she didn’t move. “Pepper already left the house.” 

 

“She did?” Peter was so preoccupied with trying to get the proper attire on his feet that he didn’t even hear the door. 

 

“Yeah. Anyways,” Harley stopped leaning against the door frame and instead leaned towards Peter, like he was telling a secret. “Twenty bucks on the baby being a boy.” 

 

“Pepper wouldn’t like us betting,” Peter said, giving Millie one last pat before he shut the light off, tugging Harley away from the door. “Especially since you’re going to lose.” 

 

“Says who?” Harley said, walking down the stairs first, Peter following. 

 

“Me.” With that, the two left the house, locking the door behind them. Peter shoved Harley towards the car, chuckling when the younger teen turned to glare at him. The two settled in and Pepper pulled out of their driveway, the ride was calm as music played from the radio and the three talked about anything and everything. 

 

Finally arriving at the Avenger’s Compound, Dr. Cho was waiting for them outside, smiling brightly at Peter as he got out of the car. “Hey, Dr. Cho.” 

 

“Hello, Peter.” She nodded at him and turned her attention back to Pepper as Harley made his way to stand beside Peter. “And hello, baby.” 

 

The doctor reached out to grab Pepper’s pregnant belly; like she was cradling an egg. From where Peter stood, he could hear Morgan’s heart beat strongly. Pepper reached the five month mark on her pregnancy just about a week ago and seeing as she’s in the middle of her second trimester, she made plans to announce her pregnancy and the adoption of Peter and Harley (keeping them anonymous, of course). 

 

The announcement would be one made over a press conference, one where Pepper would be officially announcing the events of The Snap and how it has affected Stark Industries and the direction they plan on going in. 

 

Peter was excited to watch. 

 

“Oh, there’s a kick.” Dr. Cho snickered, letting go of Pepper’s belly. “Are you ready to see if you’re having a son or daughter?” 

 

“More than ready.” Pepper said as they all walked through the doors of the Avenger’s Compound. “Harley is very excited about the possibility of Morgan being a boy.” 

 

“Oh?” 

 

“I know it’s a boy.” Harley insisted. “Been trying to make cash off it, too.” 

 

“How much are you betting?” Dr. Cho asked as she opened a door for the small family, Peter instantly being hit with the smell of antiseptic and chemicals around the little examination room. Exactly the first thing he smelled when he first gained consciousness after his trip to space. He shivered. 

 

“A twenty.” Harley answered, jumping on a chair and spinning a few times. “No one wants to take the bet.” 

 

“I’m so poor, Harley.” Peter said, almost automatically. “No money.” 

 

“Me neither.” Harley nodded, leaning his elbow on the counter. Peter ignored the snickers from Dr. Cho and Pepper. “Which is why I’m willing to gamble.” 

 

“Fine, fine.” Peter sighed. “I bet it’s a girl, you bet it’s a boy.” 

 

Harley beamed. “Finally! I knew I could crack you down.” 

 

“Well, while that was fun to watch,” Dr. Cho said, almost sarcastically. She led Pepper to the bed and rolled up her shirt to display her baby bump. “Let’s see how the baby is doing.” 

 

Harley stayed put on the chair but Peter moved closer to Pepper, leaning against the bed. Pepper smiled brightly at him, and he could see how anxious she was beneath her grin. He smiled back and offered his hand, to which she took it tightly in her own. 

 

“So,” Dr. Cho said, booting up the computer and monitor. “I’m just going to pour this gel on your stomach, use my wand to see what’s inside, okay?” 

 

“That’s so weird how a machine can see inside you.” Harley remarked. Peter knows he’s never seen this happen before, Peter’s never seen this either, and he almost wanted to laugh. Sound waves from the transducer is kind of an interesting thing to hear. 

 

“But cool.” Pepper countered with a teasing lift of her eyebrows. Peter chuckled at that and watched as Dr. Cho squeezed some blue sparkly gel onto Pepper’s womb, the woman jerking a little. “Still cold.” 

 

“Never a feeling to get used to.” Dr. Cho smiled and nodded. Peter almost wanted to sprinkle some gel on his stomach to know what the two women meant. It couldn’t be that cold, right? “Alright, let’s take a look here.” 

 

Dr. Cho picked up her transducer and placed it over the gel, using her other hand to type a few things into a keyboard below the screen. Little by little, the image became more clear and Peter could make out the shape of a baby. He's seen the baby’s sonograms before, but seeing them on the monitor, watching the way the perspective changed as Dr. Cho moved around Pepper’s stomach brought on a completely different emotion. He felt his eyes get slightly misty and he blinked rapidly to rid them. 

 

“There’s your baby,” Dr. Cho said softly, pointing to the monitor. “Very clear that it’ll be a human now, huh?” She joked. “They look very cozy in there. Alright, and it looks like…” Dr. Cho moved the transducer around again but Peter was just focused on that little body, not caring if it’ll be a boy or girl anymore. All he knows is that this little trip made his love for his new sibling increase tenfold. “You'll be having a healthy baby girl.”

 

“Really?” Pepper gasped, and Peter looked down to see that she was openly crying as tears dripped down her cheeks. He squeezed her hand a little, he didn’t know what else to do. “A baby girl? You’re positive?” 

 

“Positive.” Dr. Cho confirmed and that’s when Peter felt an elbow hit his arm. Looking down, he saw that Harley’s gaze was stuck on the monitor but a twenty dollar bill hung loosely in his grasp. He honestly didn’t care much about the bet, only really did it to get Harley to shut up, so he pushed Harley’s hand away, silently telling him that he didn’t want the money. 

 

Harley’s gaze finally tore from the screen and looked at Peter quizzically and Peter only shook his head. The younger teen quickly got the hint and put his money back in his jeans. Would Peter regret not taking the twenty dollars later on in his day? Probably, he wasn’t lying when he said he was poor (never mind the money he put into his savings or his current checking). 

 

He looked back at the monitor and saw the way the baby slightly moved her legs, wondering for the first time in a long time, what it’ll be like once she’s born. He and Harley got along fine, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of how close they were in age, or because they were both boys, he has no idea what having a sister would be like. 

 

But Harley does. 

 

Harley had a little sister, Hannah. 

 

Peter tries not to look at Harley again. 

 

---

 

The drive back home consisted of Pepper excitedly talking about Morgan, calling both Happy and Rhodey to deliver the good news that Pepper was going to have a daughter, and Peter listened intently. He was just as excited, he itched to text Gwen about the good news, but he figured he’d rather call her later. 

 

Harley remained silent in the backseat, Peter snuck glances through the mirror. The younger teen didn’t look upset, just kind of watching the scenery around them move, like he was thinking deeply about anything at all. 

 

He wonders what it’s like, to have a younger sister disappear only to gain a new one months later. He wants to know what Harley’s thinking, maybe even help if he can. 

 

“And then I need to plan the details of the press conference that’s happening in a few days,” Pepper said, bringing Peter’s attention back to her. “Which shouldn’t take long at all. I think I’ll start off by mentioning you boys, no names, of course. Then that’ll lead me to talking about Stark Industries and answering questions the reporters may have, such as where the company’s going to go, the future overall, what Tony has discussed in his will.” 

 

“You can plan that all in a few days?” Harley asked, speaking for the first time since they left the Avengers Compound. 

 

“Oh, honey, I’ve been able to do a lot more in a lot less time.” Pepper said, and Peter huffed out a small laugh. She almost seemed smug. “I just need to go over some notes and I should be set.” 

 

“You make it sound easy.” Harley said. 

 

Pepper shrugged, like it really was no big deal. “After doing it for so long, it kind of is.” 

 

Before long, they crossed the bridge that would lead them home, Peter watching as the bustling city became woodland, cars and people diminishing into the chirps of birds and the trees that moved in the wind. Once they pulled up into the driveway, Peter could hear Millie barking from inside the house, he saw her jumping up and down through the glass door. Chuckling to himself, he and Harley exited the vehicle, ready to cease the dogs barking. 

 

But just as he was about to reach the porch steps, Pepper called him back towards the car. He let Harley beat him to unlocking the door, Millie’s barking turned into whining as she circled Harley, the boy reaching to scratch her behind the ears as they ventured more into the house, leaving Peter and Pepper outside. 

 

As he walked over to her, he almost wondered if she needed help out of the car. She’s never had an issue before, her baby bump was more inward than outer and the bump was relatively small for being five months along. 

 

“Need help?” He asked, offering his arm for her to brace herself with. She rolled her eyes but took him up on his offer, lightly groaning as she rose. 

 

“Not necessarily but since you offered.” Pepper said, letting go of his arm as she shut and locked the car behind her. Peter went to move away but when Pepper leaned against the hood of the car, he stopped. 

 

Something’s wrong. “What's up?” 

 

Pepper crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him intently, like he was either about to get the best news of his life, or the worst. “It’s about Tony.” 

 

Bad news. “…what about him?” He asked, his somewhat okayish mood dwindled. 

 

Pepper opened her mouth but quickly closed it, like she was trying to properly articulate her words. Really bad news. “I wanted to wait till tonight to tell you, but… Tony made a will, long ago, back when he first became Iron Man.” Pepper said quietly. “I practically begged him to, it would’ve led to a lot of stress if he didn’t. He argued, being his usual arrogant self.” She chuckled. “Over the years, he updated it constantly, back when relationships were changing and the outcome of situations shifted.” 

 

Peter shifted on his feet, almost wanting to lean against the car too. 

 

“After seven months of you and him having regular lab days and you spending weekends with us, he changed it for the final time.” Pepper stopped leaning against the car, walking closer to Peter and put a hand on his arm. “You were written into his will.” 

 

“What?” He said weakly. He’s been in people’s wills before. He’s in his mothers, fathers, and Ben’s. He’s probably in May’s too, all four were squared away tightly in the box of “important documents” Peter sorted months ago, sitting in the back of his closet. He’s been told not to open the envelopes until he was eighteen, seeing as he wouldn’t gain anything until then anyways. “I am…?” 

 

Pepper nodded, her eyes held understanding and Peter looked away, staring at the gravel driveway. “You get a third of his fortune, Peter.” 

 

He felt like he just got punched in the gut. 

 

“He gave you access to all his projects, tech, and codes.” She continued on, her voice getting softer the more she talked. But he didn’t really register that, only focusing on each little pebble the driveway was made of. “And he gave you his company.” 

 

That's when his hearing completely gave way to an intense ringing, his heart felt it stopped beating and he might’ve stopped breathing, he can’t recall. Mr. Stark gave Peter his company? He’s the heir? No, no, no, that’s not right. Why would Mr. Stark think that was a good idea?! He has no idea how to run a company, forget the actual logistics of it. He had no experience, he was totally unqualified for this big of a thing. 

 

Stark Industries was entrusted to him? He wanted to laugh in Pepper’s face because what a great joke, she really got me with that one! But no laugh erupted from the center of his chest, no amount of delusional humor broke the blank slate of Peter’s face. 

 

He was in no way shape or form ready or able to handle such a hefty responsibility (if he were in his right mind, he would’ve countered that with the argument of Spider-Man). He couldn’t do it, I can’t do it. Mr. Stark made a mistake ensuring his literal company to Peter, he shouldn’t even have considered it! 

 

“Peter?” Pepper’s voice pulled him back to his body and he finally realized how fast his chest was rising, the slight sweat he felt on his forehead. “Peter, honey, listen to me,” she said, taking Peter by his shoulders and making him look at her. He averted his eyes. “He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t certain that you’d be an amazing fit.” 

 

There was no way he could be better than both Mr. Stark or Pepper. He could not live up to them, he knows that, the public will know that. Amazing fit? Yeah, right. 

 

“We both knew you’d do great things, become a very smart, capable man.” Pepper continued. “He was always certain about you, never once did he doubt you.” 

 

A tear slid down his cheek, but no more followed. Mr. Stark was always certain about him? Even through all the mess up’s and accidents? Even through all the teenage rebellion and angst? He wasn’t worthy of certainty. 

 

“I know it’s a lot to process. You would need to get your masters in finance, and you were thinking of getting a masters in biophysics?” 

 

Peter felt himself nod. “Y-yeah, um, a doctorate in biochemistry… too.” He barely felt the words roll off his tongue. He needed to move, to leave, to think, to never come back, to disappear, leave, be gone —

 

“Peter?” Pepper spoke gently and he tore himself out of her grasp, and he just walked, ignoring Pepper, ignoring Harley as he poked his head outside, ignoring Millie’s barking, and he just kept walking until he reached the end of the driveway. He got there fast, just how quickly was he walking? Peter didn’t know, and he didn’t think too much of it. 

 

He had his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets and just kept moving. 

 

Mr. Stark must’ve been out of his mind to think Peter had any right to his things. His money, projects, and company? That was way too much and it made Peter think deeply about how their relationship was before The Snap. 

 

He got pretty close with Mr. Stark and Pepper within a few months of having lab days with Mr. Stark. It would turn into dinner nights or they’d watch movies, or he’d just hop over because he got lonely with May working at the hospital some nights. 

 

He and Mr. Stark often had inside jokes with one another, they’d laugh so hard that Peter couldn’t remember what breathing was. He felt safe with the man, it got to the point where Mr. Stark’s face was what he thought of when Peter thought of the word “father”. 

 

He would always get embarrassed thinking such a thing, thinking that there was no way the two of them would even get close enough to consider each other family; father and son? Forget it. 

 

Maybe he misread everything. 

 

He never asked Pepper if Mr. Stark thought of him like his son, he was too scared of the answer. But learning Mr. Stark trusted him and his abilities to care for his company and all that it entails? Peter wanted to throw up. 

 

Oh, how he wished he could just ask Mr. Stark what he was thinking, why Peter? Why not literally anyone else?

 

But he also couldn’t help but wonder how it was fair. Tony couldn’t have known he and Pepper would have a baby, Morgan must’ve not really been a thought until the day Thanos showed up if what Pepper has said was true. Would Morgan gain anything? He really wanted to throw up now. 

 

He didn’t realize he was back in the bustling city, waiting at crosswalks to get from one side of the street to the other. His breathing was coming out in puffs and he wasn’t sure if it was because of his panic or because of how fast he was walking. His hands stayed glued to the inside of his jacket pockets, and he knew he didn't look pretty. 

 

Really drove that final nail into the coffin when people he passed gave him an assortment of looks. Pity, worry, judgment, curiosity. He just kept his gaze forward, wanting to go somewhere. He just wasn’t sure where somewhere was. 

 

His breathing slowed somewhat and it clicked in his brain how parched he was. He smacked his lips together and kept an eye out for any sort of cafe or restaurant that would offer anything good to drink. He finally came across a smoothie cafe, one he remembers MJ rolling her eyes at. He's never tried it, MJ told him it was a waste of money and attraction but he was practically dying of thirst. 

 

He opened the doors and immediately was welcomed by the two workers on duty. The shop definitely was going for a rustic theme with its paint and decoration. He gave them a small smile and walked to the counter, looking over the chalkboard menu. He’ll probably just have a strawberry smoothie, something simple and good. 

 

The worker in front of him smiled brightly, her platinum blonde (practically white) hair a stark contrast to her black roots and it almost hurt Peter’s eyes to look at. 

 

“Hello, I’m Felicia, welcome to Soothey Smoothie, what can I get you?” She asked, tilting her head slightly. 

 

Peter suddenly felt like a fish in a tank, her green eyes stalking Peter’s every move… and he wasn’t even moving! He shifted awkwardly where he stood, trying to avoid eye contact with her. 

 

“U-um, yeah, can I just get a strawberry smoothie, please?” Peter fished out his wallet. “Medium with whip cream.” 

 

“Anything else, doll?” Felicia asked, leaning heavily on the counter, like she was trying to meet Peter’s eyes. He shook his head, ignoring what she called him as he fished out a ten dollar bill. He didn’t need to hear his total. 

 

“No, thanks.” 

 

“Oh, too bad.” Felicia shook her head, giving him his proper change. “You look like you’d enjoy coffee cake. Maybe after my shift—”

 

“Yo, Parker, that you?” 

 

Not once had he ever been so happy to hear Harry’s voice. He turned around and saw the redhead enter the shop, Felicia made a noise of disappointment but Peter ignored her. He left the counter and walked over to Harry. “Hey, Harry.” 

 

“I didn’t take you for a fan of smoothies.” Harry remarked, the two of them standing near the doors, and Peter hoped no one tried to walk in at this very moment because that would not be fun. Who doesn't like smoothies? “I’m going to order, save me a spot. I’ll bring yours over.” 

 

Peter nodded, picking a small table in the corner. The shop wasn’t busy at all, the pop music playing from the speakers up above were at a moderate volume, and the sound of a knife smacking against the cutting board made Peter go back into his head a bit, messing with a napkin holder that was on the table. 

 

Becoming an owner of a business, running said business, being a businessman. A hero, a brother, a son, a student, a friend, a… well, whatever he was to Gwen now. 

 

He stopped toying with the holder at that thought, his face suddenly heating up. What were they now? After Green Goblin attacked, they had a very… special moment. They had almost kissed and yet, that Monday, they went back to normal. Like nothing had almost happened. 

 

But something did almost happen and he was getting itchy over it. 

 

Harry plopping down harshly across from Peter startled him out of his thoughts, the redhead drinking a sort of orange, yellowish smoothie. The brunette caught his own smoothie as Harry pushed it across the table and the two sat in silence for a moment as they drank their beverages. 

 

Harry popped the straw out of his mouthing, hissing as he brought his hand up to his forehead. Peter smiled and shook his head, still slowly sipping his smoothie. “Not fun, not fun.” Harry mumbled. 

 

Peter snorted, taking his own straw out of his mouth. “That thirsty?” 

 

“Didn’t even realize till now.” Harry responded, giving one final rub to his forehead before looking at Peter. “So what’s up? Why do you look so winded?” 

 

Peter dropped his eyes to his cup, swirling the straw around to properly blend the whip cream and smoothie together. He wasn’t sure how to talk about his current predicament, he kind of just wanted it to linger in his mind and deal with it himself. 

 

But his mouth was always too fast for his thoughts. “You're the heir to Oscorp Industries, right?” 

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Dad’s not one hundred percent certain when he’ll retire but he says I’ll for sure run it by the time I’m twenty-five.” 

 

Twenty-five? “Really.” 

 

“I’ve been practically training to run the place since I started school.” Hardy said nonchalantly. “As I got older the harder the classes became which makes sense, five year olds would not comprehend the technicalities of running a business.” 

 

“You’re not nervous?” 

 

Harry hesitated this time, and he took another sip of his drink. Peter could smell oranges and papaya from it. “I think I’m the right amount of nervous, but not for the obvious reason. I’m ready to tackle the company and carry on my fathers legacy. No more will I be Norman Osborn’s son. But just, Harry Osborn, instead.”

 

Peter nodded along, trying to wrap his mind around what exactly Harry is meaning. Because he honestly can’t understand it. 

 

“I’m nervous about how I’ll be perceived.” Harry clarified, acting like he and Peter were talking about the weather. “My father carried the company up from the ground, I always ask myself how I could do better than that.” 

 

Peter stayed silent, unsure how he should respond or even if he should. Seems that while Harry is more confident, he and Peter share the same worry. He hunched forward slightly, still playing with his straw. He didn’t feel like drinking his smoothie anymore. 

 

“I,” Peter looked up, almost surprised. He didn’t realize Harry had more to say. “Try not to think too deeply down that rabbit hole. I’m not my father and I don’t have to be like him, and if the media thinks so, then I say fuck them!” 

 

Peter snorted, grateful that the shop was practically barren. He wasn’t even sure how Harry hadn't gathered attention from paparazzi or random people off the street that just so happened to look in through the windows of the shop. 

 

“I can be better,” Harry continued. “The only one that can truly stop me, is me. And I don’t plan on stopping before I start.” 

 

That's when Peter finally met Harry’s eyes. His green eyes were practically blazing with determination and even some excitement. Peter was almost stunned, how could someone the exact same age as Peter be so sure of his future? 

 

Because he’s always known his future. 

 

Peter sighed softly, pushing his smoothie cup away, tucking his arms over each other as he rested them on the table. Harry was practically a born entrepreneur, he had the face, personality, and smarts for business. Peter… couldn’t see himself in those categories at all. 

 

But could he really let Mr. Stark down? The man believed in Peter, and it would be like punching the man in the face if Peter declined the offer. 

 

He remembers seeing the documents Mr. Stark had to read and sign, the statistics and graphs, the meetings and calls. Peter truthfully understood what he saw and heard, but he just didn’t feel ready. 

 

“Why the sudden interest?” Harry cocked his head to the side, moving his empty smoothie cup to the side to sit next to Peter’s half drinken one. Peter just shrugged. 

 

“Just curious.” 

 

 Harry only cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, and Peter felt too emotionally drained to keep up a front. “I just… some new information came to light a little bit ago, I… kind of just started walking and then I ended up here.” 

 

“Ah.” Harry nodded. “Well, I hope whatever it is gets sorted out.” 

 

A small genuine smile lit up Peter’s face. Harry really wasn’t all that bad of a guy, he and Peter really could become good friends. Hopefully Gwen wouldn’t be opposed to the redhead possibly joining their group. 

 

“Thanks, Harry.” Peter said. “You… really helped.” 

 

“Glad I could.” The teen smiled brightly, reaching for his empty cup to recycle it. He then hovered over Peter’s forgotten cup. “You done with this?” 

 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “Thank you.” 

 

Harry nodded and tossed it into the blue bin, but he didn’t sit back down. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Pete.” 

 

That was the first time Harry didn’t call him Parker. It really did feel like the two shifted up on the friendship scale and that made Peter’s mood brighten even more. 

 

“See ya.” 

 

---

 

Later that night when he returned home and apologized to Pepper for running off and making her worry, he was sitting on the floor of his room, looking over exactly what Tony left for him. 

 

His will wasn’t the traditional type most people go for, lots of jokes and “Tony-Style” wording. Peter teared up as he read but he was determined to keep his face dry. 

 

Pepper wasn’t lying when she told him that Tony really did give him access to all his “toys and gadgets”. Dum-E was still at the compound and whenever Peter was there for training, he always stopped by the lab to talk to the little machine. While he loved the little monster, Peter knew the cabin wasn’t a suitable place to keep it. 

 

He already expanded FRIDAY’s code to the cabin as well, Karen was just an added feature. He’s always treated the AI’s and machines like they were people, so maybe that’s why Mr. Stark decided it was a good idea. Half of the blueprints and equations at the compound were also Peter’s ideas, so Peter supposes it would make sense for him to get the other things. 

 

What Pepper didn’t mention was that Mr. Stark also gave Peter his personal lab. No longer was it “Tony’s Lab: Do Not Enter” but “Peter’s Lab: Enter if You Dare”. Mr. Stark was still teasing Peter’s ability to blow random things up even beyond… well, wherever the Dustee’s went off to. 

 

Peter didn’t want to believe that they’re dead, but what other possible explanation does he have? 

 

Reading further, Mr. Stark did give Peter is company, and though the will only stated that fact, the changes and contracts, signings and meetings, would need to be done through a whole bunch of lawyers and attorneys that work under Pepper. 

 

She would have to sign over the right to Peter seeing as she technically is the CEO and fiancée of Tony Stark, and he would have to put his own signature on that very same paper. 

 

Luckily, Mr. Stark required that he at least gets his masters in finance first before he truly takes over the company. 

 

His eyes grew tired staring at the tiny words with only a nightlight (though very bright) to keep the darkness away. He sighed and leaned against his wall, letting his legs stretch out. This was still so overwhelming but luckily Peter didn’t feel the need to run away this time. 

 

Just thinking about what he did earlier made his cheeks grow red in slight embarrassment. That was… a bit too immature of him and though he apologized to Pepper, he still felt bad. Maybe he could make her breakfast before he leaves for school tomorrow, an extra form of apology. 

 

Maybe he should just put the piece of paper back in his “important documents” box and go to bed. Its already late and he would have to get up early to make breakfast. 

 

But he made no move to grab the paper, just continuing to look at it like it would grow legs and put itself away. He felt lazy. Maybe he should just sleep on the floor. Floor time felt nice.

 

“Peter,” Karen spoke from around his room. “It is currently 11:24 pm, I recommend you head to bed now.” 

 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I know.” 

 

He still made zero attempts to move. 

 

The floor seems comfortable enough for tonight. 

Notes:

HELLO EVERYONE

Just wanted to let yall know do I do have a tumblr (I’m sure a few of you may have come from there if yall have seen fanfic updates under tags) and I sometimes do polls on things I can’t decide on for this story (like making Gwen valedictorian or Peter, or Gwen’s future career).

My username on tumblr is the same on here: ladypostal

I also try to post random stuff but I never think to and instead just say/send texts of all that like of stuff to my friends.

BUT IF YALL WANNA TALK OR YOU HAVE QUESTIONS OR JUST HAVE RANDOM SHIT YOU WANNA SAY, IM YOUR GIRL, PLS DONT HOLD BACK, I WELCOME IT!!!!

Anyways, this is it! LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!

Update:

Also, before anymore people comment on it, Liza finding out about the therapy sessions… there’s a point to her knowing. Garrett didn’t tell her, she isn’t as she seems. This will be introducing a new arc (AFTER Green Goblin is taken care of, ofc😂)

Love can be blinding.

Chapter 14

Notes:

NEW POLL ON TUMBLR YALL🤩

Pepper smoothed down her peplum dress, simultaneously flattening the wrinkles and wiping off the little sweat she had, thankful her dress was black. She watched from the sidelines of the conference room as many reporters and journalists filled in, some she recognized from past interviews and others that were undercover from SHIELD to make sure no funny business happened, both as pretend journalists and security. She could see Garrett and Natasha trying to fit in, but Natasha didn’t make it easy. The makeup artist at her side finished up and that was Pepper’s cue to begin the conference. 

 

As she took the podium, the mumbles and small talk dissipated from the group and cameras started to flash. She put on her “public smile” (as Harley puts it) and kept her notecards loosely in her hands. Happy stood behind her, looking like he belonged in Men in Black (Peter’s words), and Rhodey was off in the back, watching from afar. 

 

“Good evening,” she began. “Thank you all for joining me today, I know it was last minute so I appreciate your presence today.” That got her some nods. “I called this live confidence regarding the future of Stark Industries, addressing not only the tragedy that happened six months ago, but what became of it.” 

 

She took a deep breath, happy that it wasn’t picked up by the microphone. This was a lot harder than she thought it would be, and she already knew it was going to be hard. 

 

“My fiancè, Tony Stark, was one of the many brave souls that fought against the monster that we know as Thanos. He wasn’t spared from The Snap, as wasn’t the other fifty percent of the world's population. Stark Industries worked hard to keep the world turning, not only opening up shelters and replacement centers, but starting food drive organizations and hosting donation events.” 

 

She licked her lips, wanting to press a hand to her baby bump like it would bring her comfort. It probably would but she doesn’t want to stir a commotion before she delivers more information about Stark Industries. Instead, she takes comfort knowing that her boys were at home watching, hopefully not causing any trouble. 

 

“Ever since Tony became Iron Man, he’s had a will written, keeping it in the back of his figurative pocket.” She continued. “He has been updating it from time to time, and the last time he changed it was in mid 2017.” This is where things will get rough. “Which leads us to the future of Stark Industries. As per request of Tony’s will, in a few years, a new CEO will be announced.” 

 

Immediately shouts and flashes from cameras overwhelmed Pepper’s senses. She’s had many years to let it drip off her back, acting like it didn’t affect her as much as it truly did. So she waited, not giving the people in the crowd the satisfaction of an answer. The undercover agents reigned in the crowd, and over the next few minutes, they finally settled down and Pepper waited an extra second longer before continuing. 

 

“He shall remain anonymous for he is a minor,” she said. “And he shall make the decision to expose his true identity when and if he chooses.” She looked down at her notes, and struggled to find the proper way to announce that she’s also the adopted mother of said minor. Nothing she could quickly think of sounded great. “Tony Stark trusted this individual enough to hand over the company to him. I have known this boy for a year and half now, and because of recent events, I have placed him under my care.”  

 

Once more, an uproar. She raised a hand this time, trying to settle the crowd. Apparently when she says it’s time to calm down, they listen. They quieted down almost faster than they did with the agents and she kind of wanted to smile. “Following him, there was another that was entrusted to me. I have been a mother to two boys since April, and this coming February, there will be another addition.” That’s when she placed her hand in her bump and she was momentarily blinded by the cameras flashing. “Tony left his mark before his departure.” 

 

She was lucky this crowd could take a joke, the chuckles rounded the group and she felt tension rise off her shoulders. Going back to her note cards, she continued. “In the meantime, Stark Industries will continue what it’s been doing for the last ten years, and for the past few months. I will still be the chair and face of Stark Industries, I will still run the company like normal. But expect changes in the next few years. I will now be taking questions.” 

 

Hands shot through the air like bullets, and Pepper looked over the crowd to see if there were any sleazy reporters. She could recognize a few but otherwise there weren’t many. She picked the hand of a middle aged man in the front. “Thank you, Ms. Potts. Jeffrey Ingle from New York Times, how is it that we can trust this child to carry on Tony Stark’s legacy?” 

 

A question she’s sure Peter’s been asking himself all this week. “Tony wouldn't have picked him if he wasn’t confident in this child’s ability.” 

 

She hoped that satisfied Jeffrey’s curiosity. Another hand was picked from the middle of the crowd. “Angela Johnson, Evolve Express. How are we so sure this wouldn’t lead to an economic collapse?” 

 

“We will ensure that he is trained by the best of the best at Stark Industries, and he will be coached and watched for a while before we release him to be independent.” Pepper answered. “He already has a wonderful insight on the company, so I am not worried.” 

 

“My name is Amy Yule, and I work with News Hub. How have you kept your two children and your pregnancy a secret for so long?” 

 

“NDA’s are a wonderful creation.” Pepper winked, another chuckle went around the room. “And no one expected me to walk around town with two teenagers and a baby bump. It's amazing what baseball caps and sunglasses can do.” 

 

“Oliver Scottson from Bulletin, thank you for your time, Ms. Potts. Will the organizations you created ever expand?” 

 

“I hope to make them grow.” She nodded. “It’s easy to communicate with the states senator when it comes to the good people of New York, but it’s tricky with other states. Rest assured it is being negotiated.” 

 

One last question, and she could go home. Her feet were killing her, these heels were gorgeous and worked perfectly with her dress, but they were killer on the feet. She pretended to ponder on who to pick but she already had her eye on a certain reporter that was married to a trusted SHIELD agent. 

 

“Liza Reed-West, Dispatch. How did this child come into your lives? I can’t imagine you ran into him on the street.” 

 

Pepper didn’t answer at first. She could say “the truth”, that Peter won the September Foundation of 2016 and his impressive work landed him a personal internship with Tony. But it’s common knowledge that high schoolers don’t even get considered for internships or higher under Stark Industries and they know he’s a minor, so that could raise some questions. 

 

But she also couldn’t say that Peter’s Spider-Man and Tony tracked him down. That… that was just out of the question. 

 

So she picked the lesser of two evils. 

 

Keeping it vague, she mentioned the September Foundation of an earlier year and the impressive mind behind this child that landed him a role in Tony’s company. Just as she expected, more hands shot in the air but she quickly gave the single to Happy, who quickly made his way to the podium. “Ms. Potts will be taking no more questions.” 

 

She and Happy walked down the steps of the mini platform, where Rhodey and Natasha greeted them. The redhead spy smiled at Pepper, reaching to hug her. “That was great.” 

 

“Thanks, Nat.” Pepper looked over at Rhodey as he nodded in agreement. She hoped Peter was satisfied with not only the questions that were asked, but the answers she gave. “That was… fulfilling.” 

 

It really did feel like a weight was lifted off her back. One last thing to worry about. 

 

“I’ll say.” Rhodey said, going to hug her as well, giving a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Why don’t we wrap this week up with some wings and a movie.” 

 

“Oh, the boys would like that.” It was Friday after all, Harley was practically bouncing off the walls before she left and Natasha graciously let Peter have a night off from training so he could watch the conference with his brother. “It’s been a while since you guys have been over.” 

 

“Speaking of which, Harley’s birthday is coming up soon, right?” Happy asked. “In October?” 

 

“Yeah, he’s not sure what he wants to do yet, I’ll keep you guys in the know.” Pepper began to walk over to the back hallway, trying to grab her coat and purse from the break room but Natasha quickly grabbed her arm. “What's wrong?” 

 

“There’s been some new information brought to light regarding Peter.” Natasha said in a quiet voice, though they were the only ones that remain in the conference room now. Pepper looked between Happy and Rhodey and saw that they looked just as confused as she felt. “Garrett looked through the file SHIELD has on Peter.” 

 

“Why does SHIELD have that?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed. As far as she knew, Peter has zero affiliation with them, Natasha and Garrett excluded. Was there something he just neglected to tell her? Did he reveal his identity to them?

 

“He was a masked hero swinging through New York who was then seen hanging around Iron Man. I'd be more concerned if there wasn’t one.” Point, Natasha. “They managed to uncover his identity, whether they saw him change or saw Tony hanging out with a kid in his lab and connected the dots, we still don’t know. No one at SHIELD knows who made the file or kept it updated. This file was made the day Peter was born.” 

 

Again, silence from the other three. What? 

 

Happy raised an eyebrow. “You’re positive?” 

 

The spy nodded. “When Garrett approached me with it, I thought it might have been Fury or even Hill that created it, but when I saw that it was made the day of his birth, I ruled them out. If they kept it updated, though, I don’t know. But there’s nothing on our systems to tell us who made it, they covered their tracks well.” She then looked Pepper in the eyes, and she couldn’t look away. “I looked into his parents further than Garrett could. Mary Parker was a legitimate scientist but she worked for SHIELD. The reason why he couldn’t find anything was because he didn’t search for her by her maiden name.” 

 

“No way.” Rhodey whispered. “That seems lazy.” 

Natasha only shrugged. “He’s not good with computers.” 

 

Pepper only stared at Natasha, frowning as she did so. Mary Parker was a SHIELD agent?  That… how? How did Mary get involved in the first place? Peter couldn’t have known that, he would’ve told her if he did, right? 

 

“Her file was incredibly protected and I had to decrypt many files to reach hers, whoever made it didn’t want her to be found.” Natasha carried on. “Whether she was the one who did it or not, I managed to get through. She specialized in undercover work, infiltrating many enemy territories to gain more insight for SHIELD, which led to her having multiple foes; people who wanted her dead.” 

 

Pepper only shook her head slightly at that news. Mary was a spy, a damn good one if Natasha's brief description of her was any indication. “Why are you telling me about her? Why is Peter’s file at SHIELD so important?” There must be details on him that aren't common knowledge if Natasha’s telling her about this and Pepper isn't sure she wants to know about them. 

 

“Richard Parker is who Peter believes to be his father.” Pepper nodded, because, yeah, she knows of Richard and she’s heard Peter refer to him as “dad” before. “But whoever made this file knew that that wasn't the case.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Pepper waved her hands in front of her, like she could physically grab the conversation and keep it from moving forward. Natasha’s face was a blank slate, and Pepper wanted nothing more than for the spy to at least look concerned for Pepper’s sake. “Stop.” 

 

“Richard isn’t Peter’s father?” Rhodey asked, an airiness to his voice. “Then who is?” 

 

“We still don’t know.” Natasha said. “I’m willing to bet that Mary was the one who created that file and she made it because maybe she thought he would want to join SHIELD too. Or because she was an agent, this was probably her way of ensuring Peter’s safety.” 

 

Pepper continued to stare, but her mind was running hundreds of miles a minute. Mary Parker, Peter’s mother, was a SHIELD agent and she made sure he was in their database all his life? Richard Parker wasn’t Peter’s biological father, did the man know? Maybe he did and that was why Peter had little memory of Richard. She just kept repeating this newfound information in her head, letting it run in circles. 

 

Oh, Peter… 

 

“And you said that you’re not sure how they knew Peter was Spider-Man?” Happy spoke, jarring Pepper out of her thoughts. SHIELD always knew things they shouldn’t, getting information in a number of semi-unethical ways. How did they figure Peter out?

 

“Where’s his file?” She asked before Natasha could respond to Happy. She needed to know what SHIELD had on Peter, and maybe even his mother. “I need to see it.” 

 

“Back at headquarters.” The spy said. “And no, it is still unclear how or when they unmasked Peter.” 

 

“But they haven’t done anything to him yet, so it’s not like they’re tryna use it as blackmail, right?” Rhodey asked. 

 

Natasha didn’t say anything, only staring at the man and a surge of protectiveness washed over Pepper. SHIELD may be considered “the good guys” but that doesn’t stop them from doing what they think is necessary. They could one day decide that Peter is a threat and try to capture or even kill him. She knows he’s getting stronger everyday, knows that his senses are more alert than ever before. His brain is still growing and if his intelligence is dangerous enough for SHIELD, she can only imagine how’d they categorize him with powers. 

 

Peter is an enhanced individual who keeps his identity a secret, that’s what started the whole Accords thing years ago. Some of the public believed they deserved to know who was protecting them and while she always kept her mouth shut and opinions to herself (so no one could accuse her of swaying Tony’s own belief), she prays that Peter's secret stays just that; a secret. 

 

If SHIELD tries to use Peter’s identity to their advantage, she won’t hesitate to march into headquarters and give them all a piece of her mind. Peter just turned seventeen, he’s still a minor, they would have no protection from her or legal threats. 

 

She could practically feel all their eyes on her while her own were staring hard into the floor. She was sure if she stared any harder, she might burn a hole in it. She knew she would have to tell Peter this news, but how? 

 

She was going back and forth between telling him the truth now, or telling him when he’s no long under so much stress. Just today alone made the boy skittish and a little snappy, there’s no way she could drop this bomb on him now. 

 

“Is he at least aware of the file?” She then made eye contact with Natasha, and the spy nodded. 

 

“He knows. Helen was curious about its existence as well, but she didn’t voice any of that to Peter.” Natasha explained. “As far as he knows, Helen made the file and he hasn’t looked at it. She needed his permission to give it to Garrett, as well.” 

 

Okay, well, that makes things a bit easier. In a way. Pepper tried to rake a hand through her hair but stopped when she remembered it was slicked back into a tight bun, opting to just press her palm to the side of her head instead. “Helen tried to make a file on him and that’s when the system showed one already existed?” 

 

Natasha nodded, and that’s when Rhodey asked his own question. “But Helen’s known Pete’s Spider-Man since October of last year, why wasn’t a file made then?” 

 

“I can guess it’s because his injuries were never serious enough to make one.” It really was a guess, and it made sense to make it. Pepper once again sighed and her straight back slouched slightly. Today was exhausting, she really just wanted to get home and kick her feet up, but now she’s more worried about this kid more than ever. 

 

“This kid…” Happy whispered, almost just as exasperated as Pepper felt. He turned his back to the group and brought his arms above his head, his hands on his crown. 

 

“Well,” Rhodey said, scratching the back of his ear. “This is fucked.” 

 

He could say that again. 

 

---

 

Peter shut the TV off after Happy escorted Pepper off the stage, tossing the remote to the side. That actually went fairly well, he expected to hear more hate and criticism from the reporters but Pepper seemed to have a sense for those who were truly curious rather than finding some juicy gossip. 

 

He’d have to ask her how she does it. 

 

He and Harley sat in silence, Millie was running around the yard so they didn’t have to worry about her too much. He knew Pepper would reveal their presence and Morgan, but it was still a little weird to hear it. 

 

He took a deep breath as it suddenly felt all too real. Pepper made a public announcement that he’d inherit the company, there was technically no going back unless he wanted to face backlash for the rest of his life, whether the public knew who he was or not. 

 

“Could've gone worse.” He said at last, shrugging as he did so, wondering if his voice sounded normal and didn’t hold a shaky undertone to it. He wonders if Gwen or even Harry tuned in to watch the conference. 

 

“I actually thought it went pretty good.” Harley said, turning to his phone, lazily typing away on it. He obviously didn’t hear anything wrong with Peter. “Aaron and Lalit think so, too.” 

 

“You guys also said that about the Pinocchio movie. I don’t trust your judgment.” The one from 2002 was like a weird lucid, fever dream. Ned begged Peter to watch it one time at a sleepover and they couldn’t even finish it. But the one time he mentions it to Harley, he brought it up to Aaron and Lalit and they watched it at a sleepover. 

 

Harley has no taste in movies, Peter decided that day when Harley came back. 

 

“Not my fault you’re scared of a puppet.” Harley grumbled. 

 

Peter only rolled his eyes, reaching for his own phone that sat on the edge of the couch. It was blowing up with notifications from all the social media apps he has, some texts from Harry and even from the groupchat with Cindy, Sally, Abe, and Charles. 

 

But none from Gwen. 

 

He tries not to let the disappointment sink in too deeply, maybe she’s busy. Looking at the time, she would just be getting out of ballet class and hopefully today she’d know whether she got the role for the Sugar Plum Fairy. 

 

Instead of waiting for Gwen to call, he distracted himself by opening up the group chat on Instagram, the other four still spamming each other with texts. 

 

A B E: I’m calling secret love child rn

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Tony Stark, we see u man

 

Sal-E: You both are stupid 

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Oh yeah? Well wht do u think it is? 

 

Sal-E: We legit know someone who won the QUOTE ON QUOTE “September foundation” 

 

Oh no, oh goddammit. 

 

A B E: We do? 

A B E: OH WSIT NO

A B E: PEETTTERRRRE

 

Kill me now, please Lord.

 

☾Cindy☽: Peter

☾Cindy☽: Anything you’d like to tell us?

 

He only gulped, albeit accidentally. Must’ve been loud enough for Harley to hear because the younger teen gave him a face of mild disgust. Peter only shook his head and turned his attention back to his phone. 

 

He just needs to play it cool. 

 

⌞Pete⌝: Nah

 

Nailed it. 

 

KanyeDeezNuts: bruh 

 

A B E: bruh 

 

KanyeDeezNuts: YOO?? TWINZ???

 

☾Cindy☽: Peter, just tell us the truth

 

⌞Pete⌝: There’s literally nothing to tell 

⌞Pete⌝: Sounds like a coincidence to me, honestly

 

Sal-E: Too much of a coincidence 

Sal-E: You suck at lying 

 

Peter snickered to himself humorless. If only they knew…

 

A B E: We will know the truth eventually, Peter…

 

⌞Pete⌝: Tf???

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Abe, pls, buddy, don’t go to the dark side 

 

☾Cindy☽: I am confused 

 

Sal-E: Thatsba first 

Sal-E: That’s a first*

 

☾Cindy☽: Am I not allowed to be confused??? 

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Wrong 

 

A B E: NOPE

 

Sal-E: Never ever 

 

⌞Pete⌝: Really tho

⌞Pete⌝: There’s been many September foundations and other fun and cool things SI has done over the years 

⌞Pete⌝: I have not been the only winner to these things

 

☾Cindy☽: That may be true

 

A B E: You do have a point

 

KanyeDeezNuts: Accidently drank gross ass milk 

KanyeDeezNuts: Pray from me yall 

 

Sal-E: Ohmyfuckingodhesfuckingdead

 

It was then that the chats feed was suddenly replaced by Gwen’s name and number, her contact photo staring straight back at him. He didn’t have to think twice about answering her call, jumping up from the couch and walking up the stairs. “Hey.” 

 

“Peter! Oh my god, you’ll never guess!” Came Gwen’s immediate reply. He shut his bedroom door and collapsed on his bed, grunting as he did so. He had a few guesses for why Gwen was so excited. 

 

“Did you get the role?” He asked. 

 

“I got the role!” She squealed. Peter smiled and let Gwen ramble about how she was so sure that Janessa would get the Sugar Plum Fairy, and how excited she is to really learn the choreography. He didn’t even tilt his phone away from him and he found that he didn’t mind if she screamed in his ear.

 

Just as he thought that, red blossomed all over his face and he was pretty sure the tips of his ears were smoking. That sounded really bad, he didn’t mean it like that. 

 

“I’m proud of you, Gweny.” He said when she took a deep inhale, trying to get the air back in her lungs. “Let me know when I can buy a ticket.” 

 

“You seriously want to come watch?” She asked, and Peter could’ve sworn her voice was higher pitched than normal. He felt himself nodding. 

 

“Yeah! I’ll be in the front row, cheering you on.” 

 

Gwen was quiet for a moment, and Peter picked at his bedding, his hands weren’t as shaky nowadays, and for that he’s grateful. But it still sucked. 

 

“October is when they’ll be up for grabs.” Gwen said at last, her voice sounding far away from the phone. “The front row is usually the one people go for first so be ready.” 

 

“I will, don’t worry.” He said. He was really excited to see Gwen perform, he just knows it’ll be vastly different from when the two dance together. Maybe he should get her some flowers…

 

A quick knock on his bedroom door startled Gwen out of her sentence about the press conference. She told him she’d watch it through YouTube and how she can’t wait to see Pepper Potts in action. 

 

“Is someone at your door?” She asked, and Peter mumbled a confirmation as he got up off his bed, practically sludging to the door. 

 

As soon as he opened it, Millie broke through the tiny space and Harley stood in the doorway, sparing a glance at Peter’s phone as Harley held up his own to the older teen. “Mom’s on the phone.” 

 

“Oh,” he hummed. “Gwen, I’ll call you back later.” 

 

“I might not answer but you can try anyway.” The blonde spoke before she hung up the phone, Peter tried not to chuckle, he did not need Harley or Pepper saying something. He tossed his own phone on his bed, giving Harley his full attention. 

 

“She on speaker?” He asked and that’s when Pepper’s voice shot through. He might’ve jumped slightly if Harley’s smirk said anything. 

 

“Hey, Pete.” Pepper said. “I tried calling you but it didn’t go through? Anyways, how would you guys feel about having a movie night? Rhodey and Happy would love to join us.” 

 

Peter and Harley exchanged looks of equal nonchalance, the younger shrugging. “Uh, sure?” Peter said, walking back to check his phone for any missed calls. Upon seeing one from Pepper, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t notice her name pop up while he was on the phone with Gwen. “Sounds fun.” 

 

“Great,” Pepper chirped, and Peter heard the sound of a car door being slammed shut. “We’re on our way back. Love you, boys.” 

 

Harley returned the sentiment but Peter didn’t open his mouth, still finding it… weird to say it back. He does love Pepper, whenever he and Mr. Stark were in the lab and the man would mention the woman, Peter would always laugh and say, “oh I love Ms. Potts!”. But back then, it was said in a way where one would say that about any celebrity they like or admire. 

 

Now it feels more real, more like the parental love he felt for Uncle Ben and Aunt May and he’s able to fully recognize that, he’s not ashamed to admit it to himself. But to say it? Not yet. Feels… wrong. 

 

“I call picking the movie.” Harley called from where he stood, halfway down the staircase. Peter only nodded and reached to shut his light off, gesturing for Millie to follow him out of his room. 

 

He smiled as she walked over, her tail slapping him as they walked down the stairs together. Millie immediately went to lay down on her bed beside the couch, already shutting her eyes. He plopped down next to Harley as the boy scrolled through Netflix, mumbling about how Hulu or HBO might have better picks. 

 

Peter honestly didn't care what was picked or which streaming service was better, he just made his way to the window and shut the curtains tightly, reaching to turn on the lamp that was beside the couch. 

 

He plopped down onto it, the lamp enveloping him in its soft glow. It felt nice and it kept the shadows away from him. He went right back to his phone, deciding to look at Twitter first, a little curious to know what everyone is saying. 

 

A whole lot of speculation that he’s the secret love child of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, that he was made in a lab, that he isn’t really a minor but used it as a cover for extra protection, etc, etc. It was actually pretty kind of funny to see all the speculations that revolved around him. 

 

Before long, Peter heard the familiar sounds of a car rolling in the driveway and Millie shot awake and raced to the door, wagging her tail excitedly as headlights shined through the glass door. It is the only window without curtains or blinds to pull down. 

 

Peter turned his head as Pepper entered with Rhodey and Happy in tow, Millie practically jumping around them as she whined excitedly.

 

The three of them made their way over to where Peter and Harley were sitting and Harley pressed the play button on the remote without a word to the adults, just enthusiastically patting the couches and shushing them in the process. 

 

Peter smiled and let Pepper settle down next to him, not at all bothered by the way she ruffled his hair. The lights dimmed somewhat and while he tensed, he knew the AI’s wouldn’t fully shut the lights off, but the nervousness didn’t fully dissipate. 

 

Pepper’s hand didn’t leave his hair and he almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at that. He’ll be okay if the lights are dimmed, plus the light from the TV helps, she doesn’t need to “ground him”. 

 

But looking at her, he sees that she isn’t paying attention to the movie at all. Her eyes are moving rapidly but not to catch up with the movement on the TV, but like she was lost in thought. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he was staring at her and yet she’s oblivious to it. That raises another red flag in his mind. 

 

But he kept to himself, letting her absentmindedly keep her hand in his hair as the movie continued on, finally putting his full attention towards the film.

 

He was right about his earlier sentiments, Harley’s taste in movies suck. 

 

---

 

“Alright, welcome to class on this beautiful Tuesday,” Mr. Harrington greeted the class as he wrote the date on the whiteboard, and in big giant letters, wrote chemistry under it. “Are you ready to do a review packet for this Friday’s test?” 

 

The class groaned or rolled their eyes, Peter was too busy writing equations for a new form of a web fluid he’s had on his mind all weekend. Doing it discreetly was never really a big issue, seeing as none of his classmates paid much attention to him or because he was near Ned and his best friend was known to be easily distracted. 

 

But now that Gwen was sitting right next to him, it was a little harder. The girl was sickeningly observant and she wasn’t an idiot in the chemistry department. It's been a little less than a month since they had that… moment out on her doorstep and while it’s gotten easier to be around her again, there was still that barrier that told him that she still remembered and was just as confused as him. 

 

But she did a fantastic job pretending nothing was wrong. 

 

She was… more understanding as well. Before, his secrecy was something Gwen would blow a raspberry at, she’d still respect his privacy but he knew she wasn't exactly happy with it. But now, she just smiles and nods and moves on a little quicker than before, like she truly wasn’t bothered by it anymore. 

 

It was a little unnerving. 

 

But, he kept his notebook subtly out of Gwen’s line of sight, using his arm as a blockage between her and his notebook. 

 

“We got this test in the bag.” Gwen whispered to him and softly elbowed his side, biting her lip as he turned to look at her. He nodded and swiftly shut his notebook. 

 

“Want to study together later?” He asked, sliding his chemistry book over his notebook.

 

“Sounds good.” Gwen smiled, thanking Mr. Harrington as he handed her a review packet. He thoughtlessly grabbed his own paper as he stared at Gwen, her bangs falling into her eyes as the rest of her hair was held back by a headband. He still doesn’t understand the purpose of the headband if she still lets hair get in her face. “Oh! We can go to Soothey Smoothie.”  

 

It was like a record scratch sounded through his head, making all other thoughts disappear. Soothey Smoothie? Of all places, it just had to be that one. 

 

“Oh?” He said. 

 

“Yeah, Nate’s—” she cleared her throat and her smile faltered a little. “My younger brother — his friend went there a few months ago and said it was pretty good. I never had the opportunity to try it.” 

 

Well now he feels bad, he can’t deny her the chance to try that place out. Especially if she brought it up to him which basically means she wants him there. So he nodded and agreed, and he prayed to whatever deity that’s out there that the cashier from last time wouldn’t be there. 

 

He was sure, for some reason, that Gwen wouldn’t take too kindly to her. 

 

Class was nearing its halfway mark when he heard his phone vibrate several times in his backpack. He kept his eyes on Mr. Harrington as he went over questions and problems while Peter reached for the tiny device. Hiding it under his desk, he saw that Harley was blowing up his phone, messages after messages. They were coming in so fast that Peter could barely read one before another replaced it. 

 

Finally being able to click on his name, Peter saw that Harley was absolutely freaking out. Texting his name is all caps, his words misspelled, yelling about how a green freak was attacking the school. 

 

Wait, what?

 

Me: Harley stop, what’s going on??

 

Harley: Remember that bad guy from September? That clown mf?

 

Peter remembers Green Goblin well. The teen grimaced, texting a confirmation back to his brother. 

 

Harley: He’s back and we’re in a hard ass lock down rn

Harley: Kinda freaking out here man

 

Oh, god. 

 

Peter shot his hand in the air, waving it around like a maniac to get Mr. Harrington’s attention. “Sir, can I please go to the bathroom?” 

 

“Now? But Peter, we’re going over molecular geometry—”

 

Already slipping out of his chair, Peter made his way to the classroom door and accidentally smacked his classmate in the head with his backpack as he tried to tug it on. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, Beaux.” Fixing the bag on his back, he pushed the classroom door open, half of his body already out the door. “The geometry of molecules is in relation to a central atom and recognizing their lone pair of electrons. They’re usually in a three dimensional arrangement of the atoms that are in a molecule.” 

 

He didn’t say another word as he ran out of the classroom, the door slammed shut behind him but he paid it no mind, beelining for the schools main doors as his heart pounded. 

 

Green Goblin was attacking near Brooklyn High and Harley could get hurt, anyone could get hurt. He felt sweat already coating his face as he raced down the steps of the school, dodging into an abandoned alleyway and threw his costume on, zipping out from the gross corridor in record speed. He doesn’t remember a time ever changing as fast as he just did. 

 

He zoomed across the city blocks, already hearing explosions and the laughing of the goblin. Brooklyn High stood proudly from where Peter decided to perch, taking inventory of what Green Goblin has already done and how to go about it. He heard many heartbeats and yells from panicked civilians but everyone just sounded scared, he didn’t smell any blood besides his own either. 

 

Smoke and fires had already started, the whirling of the goblins hoverboard broke Peter out of his analysis and he rose up to his full height, the goblin oblivious to Peter. He could use that to his advantage. 

 

He aimed a web to land in the middle of Green Goblin’s hoverboard and gave a yank, causing the man to tilt dangerously forward at the erupt stop. The villain snapped his head in Peter’s direction as the hero planted his feet firmly on the stone wall that he was standing on. 

 

“Great to see you again, Spider-Man.” Green Goblin sounded like he was smiling. 

 

“Can’t help but disagree with your sentiment, buddy.” Peter said. “Why are you doing this?” He asked, this time his voice was stern and he couldn’t stop the crawling in his gut. Once he gets Green Goblin away from Brooklyn High, the better he’ll feel. “Whatever point you’re trying to make, this isn’t the way.” 

 

Green Goblin’s posture turned into one of relaxation as he turned the hoverboard to where he was face to face (albeit, many feet away) with Peter. His voice was loud but calm and goosebumps raised instantly on Peter’s skin at the way he croaked. “It’s the only way. Once I have your head on a mount, all will be perfect.” 

 

No second later, with the quick movements of his arms, he slammed the goblin into a nearby building that looked abandoned. He jumped off the wall he was on and was immediately assaulted with the goblin’s bombs. Seems Green Goblin has gotten better at picking himself up, that was going to be a slight hindrance to Peter. 

 

Peter managed to avoid the bombs this time around, zipping himself away from the school and effectively leading Green Goblin away. Bombs were still being thrown in his direction but thanks to his sixth sense, he managed to side sweep them all (though, the explosions still wrecked his ears heavily). 

 

“Running away?” Goblin taunted. “The noble Spider-Man fleeing the fight!” 

 

“I’m obviously swinging, not running.” Peter couldn’t help but quip, turning his whole body away and assaulted the goblin with his webs once more. The villain was practically covered like he was last time, stopping midair to clear himself of it. 

 

Peter used that to his advantage by connecting a web to the highest point of a nearby building and used that to free fall towards Green Goblin, connecting his fist into the man’s cheek and sending the outlaw to the ground, breaking the road. 

 

Peter would’ve felt bad if he hadn’t seen the test of the man’s strength from their previous fight. Why the goblin waited so long to come back was a mystery to Peter, and it danced on his nerves. “How is this destruction the only way?” 

 

The glider had broken in pieces onto the road and Green Goblin got back to his feet, a few feet between the two of them. Peter instinctively took a step back and clenched his fists, ready for anything this man might throw his way. But his sixth sense wasn’t acting up at all besides a buzz. 

 

“You don’t get it.” Goblin’s voice was raspy and sounded wet, like blood was in the way. Peter hoped not. “No one will stand against me! Not the law! Not the Avengers, or what’s left of that pathetic clique! And certainly,” that’s when the man’s voice lowered dangerously. “Not you.”

 

The buzz grew stronger and Peter bent his knees. While he managed to get some distance between Harley’s school and the fight, there still wasn’t enough that Peter deemed comfortable. Quick as lightning, Green Goblin lifted his arm and a tiny missile launched out of it and Peter honestly didn’t have enough time to dodge. The projectile connected with his chest and with a boom, Peter felt his feet fly off the cement and wind whistled in his ears. 

 

Then his back connected into something hard and rough, his suit had for sure been torn and ripped from the explosion alone, being thrown into bricks didn’t help the status of his suit either. 

 

Rubble fell around him and he heard the sounds of screams and running. He opened his eyes and saw that he completely knocked a hole into the wall of a classroom with his own body. 

 

This is Brooklyn High… shit.

 

He tried not to groan as he got to his feet, already feeling the bruises and blood drip down his body. Kids were huddled in the corner of what looked to be a math classroom, their teacher standing in front of them. 

 

“Get out of here.” He said and that’s when he noticed the bottom half of his mask was gone. He hoped that was all that was missing. “This place isn’t safe anymore. Go.” 

 

The kids didn’t need to be told twice apparently because they ran straight for the door, even though their teacher was shouting at them to wait. Peter almost felt bad, but that was before he felt his sense go off. 

 

~JUMP~

 

Peter threw himself to the ceiling and that’s when Green Goblin crashed into the spot Peter was just standing. He dropped on top of goblin and used a move Natasha first taught him all those months ago. 

 

With the tightening of his legs around the goblin's neck, he heard the struggle of oxygen the man was facing. Peter tilted his body dangerously towards the left and when goblin stumbled in that direction, Peter quickly tilted right and casted himself  backwards, making the man lose his balance and crash to the floor with the bricks breaking his fall. 

 

Peter flipped off of him just in time and used the villain’s defenselessness to gain the upper hand. Peter thwipped a couple of webs to nearby bricks and smashed them on top of the goblin. 

 

Peter felt his confidence boost, this may be the fight that brings Green Goblin down and put into prison. He may have enhanced strength than the average man does, but he was still a man. And Peter wanted to see this man cuffed and behind bars. 

 

But Peter spoke too soon. Just as he was walking over to finish the fight, the goblin brought out a miniature sword that was hidden in his gauntlet, just like the last one that Peter broke, and rolled on the ground to get behind Peter slashed it across his calves, getting both of his Achilles heels. 

 

He screamed, momentarily cursing his sixth sense for not sensing anything, and he crashed to the ground. 

 

The classroom may as well be a rage room with the amount of broken objects that was around Peter. While it might’ve been a cool concept, Peter didn’t enjoy feeling it prick and stab into his skin. His exposed skin from where the suit had torn was once again a target to debris around him and he cried out. 

 

His blood pooled around him from his flesh wounds and he’s pretty sure he bit his lip open when he fell unless he was feeling a rather wide sweat drop fall down his chin. Out of all the injuries he’s gotten in the past, this one hurt so badly. His legs felt like they were on fire and he doesn’t even know how to stop the blood flow. It was spilling out of him like water and he felt nauseous just looking at his wounds. Or maybe it was from the blood loss, Peter's not sure yet. 

 

His legs were screaming and he wanted to do the same, to roll around and cry. Tears welled in his eyes as he panted and his hands shook considerably, much worse than they’ve been in a while. He looked up to see if Green Goblin would take the advantage but the villain was still down and Peter dreaded the idea of getting to his own two feet. 

 

But the moment didn’t last as Green Goblin started to laugh as he got up, his weapon leaking with Peter’s blood and a shiver ran down his spine at the sight. “I’m going to enjoy this for a little bit longer.” 

 

~DODGE~

 

But Peter couldn’t as his legs didn’t want to work, his healing factor having yet to kick in. Green Goblin charged at him and Peter couldn’t stop the panic that welled in his chest, and the goblin once again threw Peter through many brick walls and many times he heard screams and crashes, he just wasn’t sure if the screams were entirely from the scared students and workers. 

 

He was pushed through one wall face first and landed heavily on his stomach, feeling a piece of metal poke dangerously into his stomach like it was teasingly telling him that it could pierce through him if it wanted to. Clawed hands gripped his face from behind and pulled his head back, his neck becoming extremely exposed. He gave a pathetically weak fight attempt towards the man but it was ineffective. 

 

Green Goblin didn’t hold back, stomping on both of Peter’s arms (which, ow) and practically tearing his face apart as the clawed gloves inflicted it. Peter shouted as he felt blood pour out of the wounds with the claws still staunching the blood flow. 

 

“You’re the hero New York claims you are?!” Green Goblin screamed into Peter’s ears, somehow louder than he’s ever yelled at Peter before. “The one they brag about?! If only they could see you now! Their god can bleed!” 

 

Okay, that was a stretch. Peter doesn’t know a single soul that considers Spider-Man as a god, that’s just silly. But Peter still thrashed under the man’s weight, hearing not only his skin tear but more of his mask. His already pounding heart picked up the pace at the idea of this man knowing his face.

 

So he pulled and pulled until one of his arms was free and brought a very sore arm up and slammed his elbow into the man’s jaw, feeling the claws rip out of his face. Peter yelled once more at the pain, his arms were limp now, his face was hot and wet and he could smell his blood and sweat stream down his face, he really wanted to vomit now. But instead he got to his feet, his knees shaky and his calves feeling like they were being torn to pieces. He couldn’t let this man think Peter was down for the count, he always gets back up. 

 

So Peter willed his body to move, to ignore the pain, and roundhouse kicked Green Goblin. He grabbed the man by the shoulders and uppercut him in the chin, throwing another punch at his cheek. Goblin fell to his knees and Peter just kept going. 

 

His handle on his strength was much better now than it was back in August, and while he knew this man before him was able to take a punch, Peter didn’t want to find out if Green Goblin could take Spider-Man’s punches. 

 

So he kept his strength at bay but that didn't mean the punches didn't hurt the insane man who was now laughing maniacally as his mask chipped and Peter could see blood pouring out of the man’s mouth. Peter was just about to land his last punch, planning on wrapping the man up with webbing and sticking him to the ceiling for the authorities to take care of.

 

But Green Goblin seemed to have different plans. Just as Peter’s senses went off, Green Goblin grabbed a bomb from his belt and chucked it in Peter’s direction, comically whistling as he did so. 

 

Peter’s torn and sore muscles tightened as he jumped out of the way but the shockwave from the explosion still hit him and the next thing he knew, he was practically infused with the brick of the classroom wall, the plaster having crumbled underneath him to reveal old brick. He groaned and when he turned his head, he saw that Green Goblin brought down another wall, this time the city was before him. 

 

A green glider (another one? How many of these did this guy make?) slowly lowered itself into the bulldozed classroom for the clown to have easy access to, the man chuckled as his boots were automatically strapped to the device. 

 

“You put up much more of a fight this time than last, bravo!” The maniac clapped slowly, rising into the open city as he did. Peter only watched, his bones felt broken, muddy, and nonexistent at the same time. “Till we meet again, Spider-Man.” 

 

Peter’s eyes widened and they followed Green Goblin until the guy was out of sight, and that’s when Peter laid his head back onto the brick, all the fight having finally left Peter’s body. Out of all the fights and battles he’s had, there’s never been one to leave him bleeding and broken as much as this one. 

 

Sirens started to get closer and he could hear helicopters flying over and he wasn’t sure if it were first responders or a news station detailing the fight. 

 

That thought alone sent Peter into a different kind of panic, the public could not see Spider-Man like this, bloody and bruised, his costume torn in many places (hopefully nowhere embarrassing, he hasn’t exactly had the opportunity to check). 

 

He struggled to get out of the crater in the wall, a perfect mold of himself. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so tired and wrecked. But he stayed on his feet even though his legs flared and checked his web cartridges and found that he had just enough to find an alleyway far away from the mayhem to change and hide out till his injuries wouldn’t send Pepper into a panic. 

 

He brought his hands to his face and found that he got lucky. Though he was still bleeding and the gashes in his face would take several hours (maybe even a day) to heal, his mask still covered his eyes. But below his nose and above his eyebrows weren’t spared and his hair was free to fall as it pleased. 

 

He tried to take a step away from the hole in the wall in case anyone ran through but walking was a whole lot worse than standing and his slashed tendons seized painfully at him, making his knees weak and he barely caught himself on an already destroyed desk before he face planted. 

 

“Damn.” He muttered. Calling for help seemed to be the only option for him, he was in pain and in a physically unstable situation. But oh, how he didn’t want to ask. But fate wasn’t on his side because the sound of fast approaching footsteps and a beating heart only gave him so much time to realize someone was coming towards him. 

 

He tried to use his legs but they didn’t want to listen and instead, his hold on the desk loosened and he crashed to the floor again, groaning in pain as he laid his head down. The door burst open and that’s when Peter saw who it was. 

 

Harley stood there panting, slightly covered in sweat and looking scared but physically unharmed. His eyes looked Peter over and the older teen wanted to tell him to go away and get home, but he couldn’t find the power to even raise his voice. 

 

“Peter…” Harley gasped, his entire body tense as he stepped over bits of ceiling and broken chairs. Peter just laid still, trying to catch his breath. “Oh, shit, are you okay?” 

 

Harley kneeled beside Peter and his hands hovered over him, his voice was shaky and his hands trembled. “Are you hurt?” Peter wheezed instead of answering. “Are you okay?” 

 

“Am I okay?” Harley raised his voice and it cracked, staring at Peter exasperatedly. “You look like you ate shit!” 

 

Peter coughed out a laugh, but he knew he wasn’t the prettiest sight right now. I certainly feel like shit. But luckily he could already feel his skin mending together (as gross as that sounded) so the bleeding should slow significantly soon. 

 

“Are you able to get up?” Harley asked, his eyes still wide and looking horribly out of place in this husk of a history classroom. 

 

“Yeah,” Peter coughed dryly, sighing as he stared at a light fixture a few feet away, looking moments away from falling to the ground. “I always get back up.” But he didn’t try, not yet. And that would be his downfall. 

 

“Peter?” Karen spoke for the first time today and it made him jerk slightly. How could he forget about Karen? He’s pretty sure she’s already tattled on him. “It is crucial that you seek medical help now. You have many contusions across your body, but the most worrisome reside on your abdomen, chest, and your right eye.” 

 

A diagram of his body appeared before his eyes, the technology took a massive K.O. too it seems as everything kept glitching and becoming fuzzy. Karen highlighted the exact spots she just named and Peter almost grimaced. Yeah, he was going to be sore tomorrow. 

 

“Your Achilles tendons seem to have suffered the most harm as they were completely sliced in half, I recommend a full week of bed rest with your injury. You will have remarkable bruising while they heal and your calves will be sore for a few weeks.” 

 

Once again, the diagram was highlighted near his calves. This time he did wince. 

 

“Peter? Are you okay?” Harley asked hurriedly. Peter nodded and gently shushed him, letting him know that Karen was speaking to him. 

 

“Your face also suffers from many puncture wounds, a few having pierced completely through your cheek.” What? Peter gently swiped his tongue along the insides of his cheeks and found no entry wounds, just the coppery taste of blood. “Luckily, your healing factor has kicked in and repaired the holes but your face is looking at approximately a full day of healing.” 

 

Dammit. 

 

“I have already informed Dr. Helen Cho. She’s getting a room ready for you.” 

 

“What? No!” Peter lifted his practically deadweight of arms to his face. That’s exactly what he didn’t want. He’ll be fine in a couple hours to walk home, there’s no reason to bring anything up to anyone. 

 

“What?” Harley yelled, just as on edge as Peter. His literal school just got attacked, Peter made a face. He shouldn’t have yelled the way he did. Especially since Harley can’t hear Karen. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“Just—nothing, everything’s fine.” It was not fine, he didn’t need Dr. Cho knowing just how badly he was hurt. Pepper neither. “I just gotta get up.” 

 

And for the next few minutes, he struggled but in the end, he got to his feet, Harley wordlessly keeping him up right. Once again, his legs felt like they were on fire and he struggled to keep all the pained grunts and gasps from escaping his closed lips and wrapped an arm around Harley’s shoulders for stability and for maybe a smidge of comfort to the younger teen. Peter was okay, Harley didn’t need to be worried. 

 

He tried not to let the pain blind him of his focus on his strength. Harley did not need a crushed shoulder or collarbone. 

 

“Incoming call from Pepper Potts.” 

 

“Oh, jeez.” Peter sighed, his movements gaining a smidge of speed as the two walked to the door. “Patch her through.” Then with false pep, he spoke again, a sort of song like tune. “Hello?” 

 

“Peter Benjamin Parker, why the hell did Helen call me saying you were going to be needing a check up? What happened?” 

 

“Had a chance to watch the news?” He asked as Harley used his free arm to open the classroom door.

 

“I’m at work.” If he could see Pepper, he knew her face would be comically deadpan. “Tell me what happened, young man.” 

 

So he explained in a very veiled way, Harley scoffing at his side as he spoke. He didn’t want to worry Pepper too much, his speech is clear and not slurred (at least, he thinks it isn’t). But in the end, whether they’re over the phone or not, she can read him like a book. 

 

“I’m sending Happy your way, I’ll meet you at the compound.” 

 

“Wait, no—Pepper you don’t—”

 

“The call has been disconnected.” Karen’s smooth tone met his ears instead of Pepper’s “mother-voice” and he sighed. Awesome. 

 

“Is she mad?” Harley asked, his own voice was small and he didn't look at Peter, just helping the hero down the hallways. Peter thinks Harley is leading him to the back of the school where the dumpsters are. 

 

“No, no.” Peter answered, trying to sound reassuring for both him and Harley. He didn’t. “…are you?” 

 

“I don’t know.” Harley shrugged weakly, his voice soft. “I’m dragging my brother that just got the shit beaten out of him to a janky alleyway where it will reek of garbage, half of my school just got destroyed, my backpack is missing, and I have no idea if people I know got hurt or worse. But I don't know if I’m mad.” 

 

Peter kept his mouth shut, looking away from Harley and back towards the doors that would for sure bring them outside. Some lockers were open and some backpacks were abandoned along the hallway, and it made Peter wonder if The Snap made school hallways look just like this scene before him now. 

 

He felt bad. Harley wasn’t ever supposed to be mixed up in this. He told Harley who he was to make sure there were no complications. But that didn’t mean he wanted Harley to help drag him across the school and be a target (no matter if it was indirectly) of a villain Peter was trying to defeat. 

 

Harley once again reached out to open a large set of doors at the end of the hallway and when the two broke through them, a rancid smell slammed into Peter hard. Harley was right, this alleyway reeked. 

 

Harley helped him sit against the wall and the younger teen stuffed his hands in his pockets, lightly kicking empty cans and cardboard that fell out of the recycling dumpster. Peter just closed his eyes and tried to ignore a lot of the things that were around him. 

 

Sirens, helicopters, cars driving and honking, hearts beating, the smell of the garbage, his sweat, his blood. It was another round of mass panic and Peter failed to bring the one responsible to justice. Again. Just like last time, just like Thanos—

 

The guilt and disappointment was something Peter wasn’t a stranger to, but now it seems they were best friends with him. He should’ve tried harder, if he was better than the school wouldn’t be wrecked, Harley wouldn’t be a nervous mess right now, and he’d be on his feet with Green Goblin defeated. The next time Green Goblin shows his face, it will be the last time New York will have to worry about him. Peter will make sure of it.

Chapter 15

Helen has seen many things in her years of helping the Avengers. She’s had to reset bones, stitch them up, give them cures for poison, ice packs, bandaids, casts, medications. 

 

So she assumed helping Peter wouldn’t be anything worse than what she’s already seen. But when Happy led a limping Peter in, tattered suit and all, she immediately admitted to herself that she was wrong. After asking if Peter would like Happy to stay in the room and hear about his current injuries (“I can leave if you’d like, Peter, it’s no trouble.” “Uh… could you stay? Please? Whatever she has to say, you can know about it.”), Helen pulled up the scans Karen sent her way and she helped Happy put the stubborn teen on a bed. She shushed his protests (“I’m fine, I’m not even bleeding anymore—” “Quiet.”) and took off his beyond ripped up mask, gently grabbing at his face and looked over the puncture wounds. They did indeed stop bleeding and when she dabbed away some dry blood, she noticed that the skin looked rougher than the rest of his face. 

 

“Karen, did his face wounds break through on the other side?” She knew Peter would wave her off if she asked, and if his gasp of “betrayal” said anything, she was right. 

 

“Yes, but his healing factor has seemed to already repair that damage.” The AI spoke from around the med room.

 

Helen agreed, taking more alcohol and dabbing away the dried blood from his face. Bruising was already appearing and his right eye was beyond black and blue, but has yet to swell. Tomorrow morning will be a treat for him. 

 

“What about his legs?” Happy asked from near the door. He didn’t get too close to the pair and for that Helen was grateful. She understands that people get concerned and worry for those they care about, but they often get too close and it makes it harder for Helen to do her job. “His tendons were sliced.” 

 

Helen nodded. “We’ll do an MRI and see if any healing is happening, but one thing is for sure.” She turned back to Peter, the boy looking up at her through his lashes. “No walking, standing, running, jumping, swinging for the next three days.” 

 

“What?” Peter gasped, his slouched posture turned rigged. “But, Dr—”

 

“You are hurt.” She literally could not stress that enough. “In order to go back out there and help, you have to heal. You shouldn't even have been walking around yet! Stick to a wheelchair for the next three days and if you can do that, you’ll be right as rain by Saturday.” 

 

“But what about school? I have a test on Friday!” 

 

Helen whipped out a piece of paper and pen from her coat, writing on it without looking around from Peter. “I’ll give this to Pepper so she can forward it to your school. Congratulations, you just got the rest of the week off.” 

 

The boy huffed, and she could see thoughts turning in that big brain of his through his eyes. So to add fuel to the fire, she smirked. “I’m sure the AI’s would also love to keep in contact with me if anything were to occur that I’d disapprove of.” 

 

“Yeah, sure they would.” Peter muttered sarcastically. Helen only hummed and grabbed a pair of sweat shorts and scissors. She instructed him to cut off his suit and to put the shorts on so she can help the rest of his body. She sent another command to FRIDAY to start remaking his suit. 

 

She turned back to the computer and Happy looked with her, the two giving Peter some privacy. She could hear the snipping and that’s when she started talking. “What happened to your iron suit? If you keep going against this guy, I recommend wearing it.”  

 

He didn’t respond right away, and Helen heard him pause in his efforts to change. She figured there’d be some bad memory with that iron suit rather than his fabric one, but she needed to hear him confirm or deny those theories. She could even tell Garrett about Peter’s hesitance with that suit; he can decide whether or not he’d bring it up at the next session. 

 

“Just…” Peter began, clearing his throat as he continued his movement. “Haven’t thought to put it on.” 

 

Bullshit. Helen knows there’s something more but she won’t press Peter about it now, especially when he’s this hurt and struggling to change. So instead, she addresses Happy. “Harley waiting outside?” 

 

“In the car.” Happy nodded. “He didn’t want to come in.” 

 

Helen nodded. From what Karen relayed, the kid helped Peter across the school to where the two met Happy a few minutes later. The younger teen saw his big brother laying in rubble, bleeding and torn. She understands him not wanting to come in. 

 

“I’m done.” Peter said and when Helen and Happy turned, the man let out a shocked hum while the doctor only stared. Karen wasn’t kidding when she said he had heavy contusions. The bruising on his chest and abdomen spread far to the point where it overlapped and his entire front was beyond black and blue, she could see some green and brown as well. 

 

His arms and legs weren’t necessarily in the same boat but it wasn’t wadding far behind. There were bruises and scrapes and cuts running along his limbs and Helen tried not to grimace. Happy was doing it enough for the both of them. 

 

“Okay.” Helen started, walking closer to Peter and picked up her cotton balls, putting some antiseptic on them. “This will sting a little.” And it did. Peter slightly flinched under the touch but otherwise he took it like a champ. She worked from top to bottom on him and when it was all done, he was covered in gauze and some butterfly bandages adored his forehead, and many sutures were performed. 

 

Now for the bruising. 

 

“Alright,” Helen reached for a drawer and pulled out a cooling spray and a big roll of bandages. “This will help with the swelling and pain that you will be dealing with. The bandages are to ensure that the coolant will stay longer and to protect against clothing.” Upon Peter’s nod, that’s when she got serious. “This will sting.” 

 

But once again, Peter showed no signs of pain or discomfort besides the crease in his eyebrows. Helen didn’t say anything more, putting the spray beside him and rolling out the bandages across his chest and back, all the way down to his hips. 

 

“Change your bandages every time you feel the need to use the spray.” Helen said. “If you don’t need to, then change the bandages every six to eight hours.” 

 

Peter nodded and Helen dragged a wheelchair over to him, Happy on his other side, offering help to which Peter declined. With little struggle, Peter hopped off the bed and landed in the wheelchair and Happy instantly went behind him to push the wheelchair. 

 

Helen handed Peter a little bag that was filled with the cooling spray, bandages, and painkillers. They made their way over to the MRI machine that was just a few doors down from the med room, Helen once again getting confirmation from Peter that Happy can know about what’s happening, and upon sending Peter through, Helen saw that not only did Peter have a concussion, but both tendons have already begun a slow healing process. She honestly wasn’t even sure if three days would heal him from the looks of his screening. 

 

Happy seemed to be thinking the same. 

 

“So?” Peter asked from where he laid on the table, still in the machine that just shut off. His voice echoed. “Still three days?” 

 

“Unfortunately, honey.” She nodded into the microphone, biting her lip as Happy stayed silent from behind her. “Maybe more.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“We’ll take it day by day, okay?” She quickly printed out the scans, putting them in a folder to give to Pepper. In that folder there’s instructions on his bandages, his meds, what exactly Helen saw and the actions that they can take going forward. She turned back to Happy and nodded. “You can go get him.” 

 

Once Peter was back in his wheelchair, Helen handed him a sweatshirt, a generic looking dark blue one that many Avengers got when their costumes got torn. He slipped it on and the three made their way towards the main doors of the compound. Helen held the door open for Happy to push Peter through and that’s when she saw Pepper leaning against Happy’s car, Harley in the backseat with his window rolled down. 

 

She’s never had a problem with Pepper, the two were on good speaking terms and they often agreed with one another on many things. But the way the red head was glaring made Helen not want to walk any further and instead, turn around and leave the others to deal with the damage. 

 

But I am Helen Cho, damn it! So she ignored that little feeling and kept walking besides Happy and Peter with her head held high. 

 

Pepper uncrossed her arms and walked towards them, her eyes set on Peter. Once she was within earshot, Pepper spoke. “What happened? And don’t dance around the truth this time, Peter.” 

 

Peter’s head lulled to the side as he looked up at her, and his face held a lot of conflicting emotions that even Helen couldn’t dissect. “Green Goblin attacked near Harley’s school, so I went over there.” He licked his lips and his eyes fell to the ground. “He beat the shit out of me, okay?” 

 

Pepper didn’t open her mouth and her eyes looked like they were searching for something on Peter’s face, but all Helen saw was a mess of his hair. She handed the files over and that’s when she said her goodbyes, watching as Harley walked to Pepper’s car while Happy and Pepper helped Peter get into it as well. 

 

This kid. 

 

---

 

The ride back home was silent and Pepper tried not to sneak too many glances at Peter, she’s not sure if he’ll be able to sense that. 

 

Anger masked her immense worry for him and she tried to cool it, but it was hard. Just seeing him being wheeled out of the compound made her heart squeeze painfully. He was so battered and that was only his face! She’s not sure she wants to know how bad the rest of him looks.

 

The ride remained silent and they soon pulled into their driveway, Pepper quickly turning off the car and walking to the other side of it. She opened the passenger side door and Peter looked up at her, Harley already setting up his wheelchair and she was glad he was effortlessly a step ahead. 

 

“Give me your hand.” She said, her own outstretched towards him. Peter didn’t move at first but soon gently took her hand and together, Pepper and Harley worked to get Peter in the wheelchair. It was tough trying to push it on rocky ground but by the time they reached the steps, Pepper and Harley helped Peter practically jump the steps. 

 

“I don’t need all this help.” He grumbled. Pepper only shook her head and she saw Harley roll his eyes.

 

Rolling him into the house, she delivered him to the living room and he used his arms (they were shaking) to get out the wheelchair and fall onto the couch. She hummed in displeasure and took some throw pillows and propped his legs up on the coffee table. 

 

And suddenly, it was quiet again. She stood with her hands on her hips and looked at Peter, who was staring at the TV with blank eyes. She recognizes those eyes, the same ones she’s seen before The Snap and years prior. 

 

The same eyes she’d see when Tony got pulled away from reality. 

 

So, what she's going to do now is what she’s done before. She walked around the coffee table and sat down on the loveseat, grabbing a magazine and started to flip through it nonchalantly. She hoped it works for Peter just as it did for Tony. “I’ve been thinking of making apple pie.” She said, making sure to not look at Peter. “Or maybe pumpkin. Either way, we could always go to an orchard or patch soon, they’ll be opening in a few days.” 

 

Peter took a moment but she heard him hum, and so she kept talking. “We could get cider. Oh, remember the one time we made cider last year and it didn’t turn out right?” 

 

This time, she did look at Peter and his eyes remained on the black screen of the TV but his eyebrows raised and his head was tilted. “…yeah.” His voice was soft; lofty. “We put… uh, vanilla in it… moms recipe.” 

 

She nodded. It was her mothers recipe, putting just a drop of the extract in the cider and when she shared it with Peter last fall, he was so excited to make some with her. It was a wonderful memory for Pepper, the first time it was just the two of them hanging out and bonding. She was determined to make it feel natural and while it was a little tense in the beginning, they soon warmed up to each other. 

 

She remembers when it was time to put the vanilla in, and she let Peter do the honors. But she had accidently bumped into his elbow while she was trying to tidy up around the kitchen and a little more than a drop fell in. 

 

“Uh…?” he said, his arm frozen over the cider, and he stared at her from the corner of his eyes. 

 

“It’ll probably be fine.” She had guessed. 

 

It was not fine at all, the two of them tried a sip each and immediately dumped it out. She still chuckles at the memory. “Too bad we didn’t let Tony have a sip, I’m sure he would’ve loved that.” 

 

Peter let out an air of laughter and she felt her smile grow bigger. “Yeah… that would’ve been funny.”

 

Pepper nodded and continued to stare at him, he sighed and shifted on the couch, almost slouching and she could see the tiredness roll off of him in waves. She put the magazine down and walked over to him, bending slightly as she caressed his least bruised cheek, feeling the healing wounds under her palm. 

 

She doesn’t like this. The pressure he’s put on himself, the responsibility. The wounds he gets, both inside and out. 

 

But she can’t stop him, he’s just as stubborn as Tony, maybe more, and dealing with Tony was already so hard. Convincing Peter to take a break would be impossible and he would make it his mission to do the exact opposite of what was asked. 

 

His eyes closed and she continued to hold his cheek and once again, she took inventory on him. His dark lashes rested against his dark eye bags, his pale skin tinged pink and red from where the wounds were inflicted, his skin holding a rougher edge to it in comparison to how smooth it used to be. 

 

His hair has gotten a bit darker, Pepper mused to herself, moving to gently run her hand through it. His face once again has changed to show that he was becoming a man, leaving teenage hood soon. She remembers back in August when she observed that, and now it’s changed all over again. 

 

After a moment, she dropped her hand and maneuvered him to lay down, taking the pillows off the coffee table and once again propping them up under his legs as he laid horizontally. She draped a blanket over him and whispered for FRIDAY to close the blinds (Peter installed that ability after the press conference) and she left him to sleep off some of his injuries, placing painkillers and his antidepressants on the side table. 

 

---

 

Peter chewed on his thumb absentmindedly as he sat on the rocking couch, the air grew cooler and the lake was practically of no use anymore this year, but the animals still took pleasure in it. So he watched as ducks messed around and quaked amongst each other. 

 

He and Harley have been out of school for two days now, for two different reasons but because of the same cause (cause versus effect, his literature teachers were right all along). Harley’s school was being repaired and Peter’s body just decided to go against its own rules. 

 

His healing has never taken this long. His bruising was still equivalent to the color of lava rocks (no he wasn’t being dramatic), his tendons have just barely made it to the halfway mark of healing, and his black eye still looked fresh. 

 

Pepper’s been giving him pain meds and helping him move around the house. He's had to sleep on the couch these past few nights and his still bruised body wasn’t happy with that. 

 

He was grateful that — fast healing or not — he wasn’t permanently wheelchair bound. He can still wiggle his toes and move his knees (even if his legs flared with pain after), it was just difficult to do anything around the house. 

 

The AI’s really did tattle on him when he tried to stand, hours after Dr. Cho fixed him up and Pepper was not happy. But they didn’t seem at all concerned when he used his hands to “walk” on the ceiling. 

 

Gwen and Harry have been texting him, asking how he was feeling as they were under the impression he was just sick. But there was something about Gwen’s texts that just seemed off. 

 

She asked if he was okay. He confirmed he was. But then she asked again, and he could only stare at the text, because what does she mean, am I really really okay? 

 

But he again assured her he was okay, and she didn’t ask again. Harry was easy to handle, the boy didn’t really bring it up again which Peter was grateful for. 

 

“Aren’t you cold?” Harley asked him as he walked out of the house, sweatshirt on. Peter looked down at his bare arms and remembered he was just wearing a science pun t-shirt May got him two years ago which stretched across his chest and around his biceps. Either it shrank or he grew. “Come inside.” 

 

“I’m fine.” He said. He honestly didn’t even feel the chill. “Just thinking.” 

 

Harley took a step forwards, wrapping his arm over the other as he stood. The birds from the growing orange and red trees chirped and Peter almost wondered if once he’s healed, they should rake the lawn, leaves have begun to fall. “What about?” 

 

“A lot.” He answered. “My healing, your school, Gwen and Harry.” He coughed. “Goblin.” 

 

“What about him?” 

 

“I have to stop him, Harley.” Peter looked back at his brother and Harley didn’t move, just continued to stare at Peter. If the circumstances were different, he would’ve found it a little weird. “He’s… he’s not right in the head. He was going to kill me.” He saw Harley’s eyes widen a bit. “I think he only stopped because he was having fun. He was laughing and he clapped and… people were hurt and some even died from his attack on Tuesday, all because I couldn’t stop him.” 

 

“Stop.” Harley said, frowning deeply. “It’s not your fault. He — the deaths were before you even got there, you managed to get him to go away—” 

 

“After he had already destroyed your school.” 

 

“It was just a few walls, Pete.” 

 

That was so besides the point, and inaccurate. A few walls and more. Peter only shook his head, turning back to the lake. The ducks are gone now. 

 

“He has to be stopped, that’s all I’m saying.” Peter spoke again, this time a lot quieter than he thought. 

 

“Ask for help.” Harley suggested, shrugging like he just said a grape smoothie was mediocre. “You hang out with Natasha. What about Captain America or Hulk?” 

 

Peter shrugged this time. “He called my name specifically. And I don’t want to bother them, I can handle Green Goblin just fine.” 

 

“Yeah, obviously.” 

 

“Harley—”

 

“You just said he almost killed you, Peter!” Harley snapped, gesturing towards Peter’s wheelchair that was off to the side with his hand. Peter only blinked at the sudden tone. “He’s hindered your ability to walk, and if you were normal, you would’ve died for sure!” 

 

“Hey—”

 

“You have this code where you never ask for help, even when you desperately need it, it’s annoying! But the moment anyone needs just a little bit of help you are right there, front and center! This savior, white knight complex of yours is what’s going to kill you, not Green Goblin!” 

 

Harley stomped over to the door and flung it open, only to slam it shut a moment later, leaving Peter alone on the porch. He doesn't have a complex, he just knows that he has the ability to help, and if he doesn’t, then who will—?

 

“Oh shit.” 

 

---

 

“How’s the kid?” 

 

Natasha looked away from the TV as Steve walked in, the news was doing a recap on the fight and its overall destruction from a few days ago. Many were injured and a few had unfortunately died because of Green Goblin (the media heard Peter call him that and they ran with it, Natasha mused). 

 

How was he? Natasha really didn’t know much, just that he’s unable to participate in their training sessions until next week. “Injured.” She settled on. “But he’s making it through.” 

 

Steve nodded, watching TV as well as he crossed his arms over his chest. There wasn’t any footage of the fight once they entered the school and that’s what Natasha’s grateful for. Peter didn’t fail, he just had a setback. But others would disagree if they knew just how beaten Spider-Man was.

 

“He’s tough.” Steve said, still watching the screen. “Why didn’t he ask for help?” 

 

“Him? Ask for help?” Natasha found the idea alone very amusing but hey she didn’t smile. She knows exactly why Peter didn’t ask and it aligned with her ideology too. “He’s stubborn.” 

 

“Stubbornness can get you killed.” Steve seemed to think she’s forgotten that little tidbit of advice she was told many years ago. The difference is that she wasn’t in any danger this time. “You need to talk to him. He can’t keep biting off more than he can chew.” 

 

“Oh, is Mister America being hypocritical right now?” Natasha raised an eyebrow as she got off the couch. “Funny.” 

 

“I’m serious, Nat.” Steve said, following her as she wandered to the kitchenette. “He’s just a kid—”

 

“Steve, enough. He already has a lot going on.” Last thing Peter needs is her lecturing him. She’d just be wasting her breath, anyways. 

 

“Like that terrorist?” 

 

“Like his head.” Natasha regarded Steve coldly. He was her friend, no doubt about it. She trusts him with her life and she’d take a bullet for him. But he has no business making decisions on something that does not pertain to him. “His own background isn’t as clear as it once was. He’s dealing with loss just as we are, and he has his rough days, but he’s making it through. He doesn’t need a talking to, he needs mentorship, training, someone he can come to for anything.” 

 

Steve stayed quiet and Natasha took that as an invitation to continue. 

 

“You have to remember, Steve.” She began. “That kid got that gauntlet off where we didn’t. That kid survived three weeks in space using his brain and whatever rations were left aboard that ship. That kid has never once proven to be incompetent or incapable of dealing with whatever is thrown his way. I’d say he can chew that big bite.” 

 

Steve only nodded and turned to leave. Only when his back was fully turned did she chomp down on an apple she doesn’t remember grabbing. She meant every word she said to Steve and she’ll gladly say it again if she has to, to anyone who questions Peter. 

 

She’s seen it since she first saw him at that airport, the way he managed to nab Steve’s shield, hold his own against some of her teammates, winning against Sam and Bucky. His potential, his personality, his power. 

 

She offered to help train him to unlock all that’s been hidden, and so far she hasn’t been disappointed. But he still has a long way to go. 

 

She took another bite of her apple and left the room. 

 

---

 

Peter sat at the edge of his bed. Finally. It was Sunday, a total of five days had passed and Peter made the trek from the couch to his bed last night when everyone was sleeping. The prohibition had been lifted after three days, seeing as that’s how long Dr. Cho said his bed rest should be and the AI’s no longer watched him like a hawk and reported his every move to Pepper.

 

Dr. Cho forgot to update his file after his MRI scan. He wasn’t going to say anything to anyone, though. 

 

With his feet planted firmly on the carpet, he leaned over and saw the scars on his calves, the skin having healed itself within the first night, but those tendons sure knew how to take it slow. 

 

The scars were clean, deep, and long. Karen wasn’t kidding when she said he’d have deep bruising. The scare was pink but everything around it was black and blue and green. If Peter looked at it too long, he’d start to remember the pain he was in and that wasn’t a fun time. 

 

He looked over to his nightlight, the warm glow from it was still comforting to him. He hasn’t had any night terrors from space in a while but he didn’t like the idea of sleeping in the dark, the cold, suffocating darkness was definitely a no-go for him. 

 

He sighed and braced his legs, pulling himself up slowly into a standing position, soreness had replaced pain but it still wasn’t great. He grunted as he took a step towards his closet, it wasn’t more than six feet away but Peter took his time, trying to ease himself back into walking normally for Monday. 

 

He didn’t need Gwen or Harry questioning why he was limping. 

 

Each step was as tough as the last, but Peter pushed through, hands out to grab the closet door handles. Once he could feel the cool knobs, he practically pulled himself towards the doors and leaned against them for a minute. 

 

He smiled to himself, readying himself to walk right back to his bed. It's late, he should definitely try to sleep now, or he won’t be able to wake up on time tomorrow morning to take that test he missed on Friday. Last time that happened, Pepper barged into his room and threatened to pour water on him. 

 

But then he had a thought, pausing in his tracks. He looked back behind him and stared at the closet doors and he momentarily thought they’d open up and eat him like he was a background character in Monster House. 

 

He reached back towards the doors and pulled them open, coming face to face with his clothes all hanging neatly before him. Back when they had first moved, Pepper had told him this room would have the walk-in closet feature. He maybe had three feet to actually walk in before he hit the clothes. In the closet, he had two dressers that he found in the college dorm section of Target (apparently he had way too many clothes, he had to find more storage). He struggled to get to his knees but once he did, he pulled open the very bottom drawer of his plastic dresser. Folded shirts and basketball shorts awaited him in this particular drawer and he dug through them till he found exactly what he remembered. 

 

Peter Quill’s shirt. 

 

He slowly pulled it out and unfolded it, holding it out in front of him. He's not sure why he just remembered it, he knows that someone took it off of him when he fainted outside of the compound but he figured it was tossed away. 

 

He doesn’t even recall folding it and putting it in his dresser. 

 

He continued to stare at it and debated throwing it out his window. He won’t wear it again, he just won’t. But at the same time, it’s not his to throw. What gives him the right to do that with someone’s shirt? 

 

Because the man that owns it is dead. 

 

In a blink, Peter tossed it to the back of his closet and shut his drawer, trying to pull himself to his feet again and close the wooden doors. Once again, it took some time but he managed it and hobbled back to his bed before he promptly belly flopped onto it.  

 

He closed his eyes and soon fell into a slumber that was interrupted a few hours later, breaking Peter’s no-nightmare streak, a maniacal laugh echoing in his ears.

Chapter 16

Gwen gnawed on her lip as she tried to pay attention to Ms. Ardine but she was having trouble doing so with what was currently plaguing her mind. 

 

She was trying to work up the courage to ask Peter to see a movie with her tonight. It’s definitely not a date or anything! She’s just wondering…

 

She knows he likes scary movies and she enjoys them too and tonight was the opening for a psychological, kinda paranormal horror movie called Hereditary. 

 

The original release date was supposed to be back in April but they pushed it back for obvious reasons and she was excited to see it. She was hoping Peter would be excited as well.

 

When he ran out of class last Tuesday, she knew something was happening and his alter ego had to take care of it. She ended up covering for him many times throughout that school day and he didn’t return her texts until that night; hours later. She was practically refreshing Twitter's Spider-Man’s hashtag every few minutes just to make sure he wasn’t dead. 

 

But there were rumors of him being hurt. She continued to text him and hoped it didn’t sound like she was worried, but curious instead. When she wasn’t checking Twitter, she was checking TikTok or a credible news station's website for any articles. 

 

When Peter finally texted her, she let out a breath she wasn’t even aware of holding. Peter didn’t show up for the rest of the week and he claimed he was sick, and that’s when she knew the rumors were true. 

 

First thing she did Monday morning was search for him out among the courtyard and she noticed that he walked stiffly and almost with a limp, like he was trying so very hard to hide it but just couldn’t. 

 

She doesn’t know if she’s that observant over him to notice small things like that or if he was just that hurt. 

 

She didn’t realize how stressed she would be until then, her mind racing and her heart not too far behind. She remembers chewing off the insides of cheeks and lips, her anxiety through the roof at Peter’s silence and the media’s lack of information. 

 

Spider-Man Disappearing After Fight with Green Goblin! 

 

Web-Slinging Hero Gone? 

 

Spider-Man: Dead or Alive? 

 

She’s used to someone leaving and having the chance of not coming back, her dad was a cop. Every morning while she got ready for school she’d hug her father tightly and hope she’d see him for dinner that same day. It was something practiced between him, herself, her brothers, and her mother. 

 

Then one day he didn’t come home, and neither did her mother or brothers. 

 

She didn’t realize her “new life” in Queens would continue that tradition. Certainly not with the famous hero, either. 

 

She shook her head slightly to rid herself of those thoughts and any feelings that came with it and again tried to pay attention, Ms. Ardine was going over the Civil War (the actual war, not what the media dubbed Iron Man and Captain America’s fight) in this unit and it was honestly just review for Gwen, the amount of times a class was taught this event in history was astonishing. It was also kind of boring now. 

 

She looked down at her notes and quickly wrote down on the paper so Ms. Ardine didn’t call her out for daydreaming, the last thing she needs is that embarrassment before she practically risks her life to ask Peter one simple question.

 

A small nudge from her right made her look up and she saw Cindy subtly sliding a note to her, the raven haired girl’s eyes never leaving the teacher. Gwen took it quickly and unfolded it, Cindy’s extremely neat handwriting greeting her. 

 

Are you busy tonight??

 

Gwen took her purple pen and quickly wrote a response, her handwriting not as neat. 

 

Maybe?? Idk yet

 

:((

I was going to hang out with Luana tonight and wanted to see if you’d like to join us

 

Gwen knew Luana, she was apparently a cousin of a Dusted student, a few months' age difference between the two. Luana was nice but Gwen hasn’t made much of an effort to develop their friendship. It was hard when the girls only had one class together and it just happened to be the shortest on their schedules. 

 

I’ll let you know if I can :D

 

She saw Cindy nod in her peripheral and the note was quickly crumbled up and sitting on the edge of Cindy’s desk. That’s when she feels a poke in her back and she huffs. Harry just so happens to sit behind her in class, and she can’t believe her luck. 

 

They had assigned seating from the first day of class and she played with the idea of asking Ms. Ardine to switch seats. 

 

She ignored Harry but when the poking persisted, she took out her phone and clicked on his number, the last text being from when they were doing a project for Mrs. Warren back in September. 

 

Me: What do you want 

 

Harry: You shouldn’t be on your phone

 

Me: I’m only on it because you won’t leave me alone

 

Harry: Still 

 

Oh, he really knows how to infuriate her. She’s a pretty calm person, at least she believes she is. But Harry just knows how to make her go from zero to a hundred real quick. Not even her own brothers had that talent. 

 

Me: What

Me: Do

Me: You

Me: Need

 

Harry: Ok damn 

Harry: I was wondering if I could borrow the notes

 

Me: Which parts?

 

Harry: :)

 

Me: All of them? 

 

Harry: :)

 

If Gwen could groan in frustration out loud, she would. Instead, she tightened her grip on her phone and practically jabbed her thumbs into her screen. 

 

Me: Are you serious? 

 

Harry: As a heart attack

 

Me: have one. 

 

With that, she shut her phone off and toyed with her tongue jewelry in her mouth, feeling it rolling around in her mouth. Harry can borrow her notes, she actually had no qualms with sharing but she can at least make him think she really wasn’t happy about it. It was kind of entertaining. 

 

Soon the bell rang and she stood up, grabbing her backpack and turning around to face Harry, who was still sitting. He looked up at her and she dropped her notebook in front of him. “Take pictures.” 

 

He quickly did so and smiled at her, which involuntarily made her left eye twitch. “Thanks, Gweny.” 

 

“Uh, no.” She said, grabbing her notebook. “Don’t call me that.” 

 

“But Peter gets to.” He argued with a smirk and an eyebrow raise, getting to his feet as well. “Why can he but I can’t?” 

 

“Shut up, Harry.” She huffed before walking out of the classroom, Cindy waiting outside for her. The two of them had gym class now and it honestly was her least favorite class of all time. 

 

“What was that about?” Cindy asked as the two of them walked into the girls locker room. “All this time I didn’t realize you were friends with Harry Osborn.” 

 

“Who said he was my friend?” Gwen opened her gym locker and took out her gym close, quickly putting her backpack in there as she changed. 

 

“He and Peter are friends, right?” 

 

Gwen shrugged but yeah, it seems like the two are pretty close now. One day they were friendly acquaintances and the next, they were friends. She doesn’t really care who Peter’s friends with, but did it have to be Harry? 

 

“And you’re friends with Peter.” Cindy continued. “So by default, you and Harry are friends.” 

 

“Cindy,” Gwen pulled her hair into a ponytail, wordlessly offering one to Cindy as well. The girl never had a hair band. “Please.” 

 

Harry was the last thing Gwen wanted to talk about, she really didn’t hate him, he’s just annoying and call her a grudge holder, but she didn’t like how he first interacted with her. 

 

“Okay, okay.” Cindy raised her hands in surrender, the two of them walking into the gym. 

 

There was a five minute grace period that Mr. Lorand gives them and usually everyone who arrives “on time” has to walk laps around the gym. Gwen and Cindy started walking and the blonde began to walk on her toes, her converse weren’t a very supportive shoe for gym but they had unbelievable toe protection. 

 

“Must you do ballet now?” Cindy asked, her ponytail swinging back and forth dramatically as she walked. 

 

Gwen did a passé and shuffled with the way Cindy walked. “Yeah, I must.” She twirled slowly, almost lazily and she could practically hear Madame Odine’s chastisement. It was either give it all or don’t bother doing it. No inbetween. “It’s relaxing.” 

 

“I don’t know how you can find relaxation when we’re in gym class.” Cindy grumbled. Gwen only shrugged and continued to dance lazily around Cindy as the pair walked around, students entering the gym and immediately joining the tide of students. 

 

Mr. Lorand blew his whistle and the students dispersed, walking to their designated spots on the gym floor for Mr. Lorand to easily take attendance. Gwen held her arms behind her back and waited till the teacher's eyes met hers and quickly scratched the paper with his pen. 

 

“Alright,” the gruff voice of the teacher spoke. He cleared his throat, dropping his clipboard on the floor as he put his hands on his hips. “I hope you all had a hearty lunch because today is all about conditioning, lots of cardio and weight lifting today.” 

 

Some students groaned and Gwen sighed, meeting Cindy’s eyes and a silent agreement traveled between the two, both of them dreading the plan for today. 

 

“You each get fifteen minutes at each station, I will be grading on participation so don’t slack off.” Lorand said, reaching down to grab the whistle that was hanging around his neck. “Let’s begin!” 

 

---

 

Gwen laid her head down on the desk of Mrs. Warren’s classroom, having arrived fairly early. Mrs. Warren was seated at her desk and going through some paper that Gwen really didn’t find interesting enough to ask about. The teacher might not even tell her. 

 

She sits up straight and takes a deep inhale, her nerves suddenly playing around her. She has to ask Peter about tonight, she really wants to see the movie and going alone is so embarrassing. 

 

That was the only reason for asking him. Yup. 

 

Harry entered with a few other students and he sat in his usual chair at their table, dropping his backpack like a rock. “Chemistry before physics is hell, who decided that?” 

 

Gwen raised an eyebrow. “You had the chance to change your schedule, you know that, right? Why didn’t you?” 

 

“That was when I was confident in my abilities to not go brain dead.” Harry rolled his eyes as he dug in his backpack, pulling out a pencil and notebook. Gwen only hummed and opened her own notebook, doodling absentmindedly as she waited for Peter. 

 

Just as the final bell rang, Peter slid into the classroom and rush to sit down next to Gwen, smiling at her as Mrs. Warren began their class for the day. Gwen smiled back and she wished he was earlier so she had the ability to talk to him. 

 

Hopefully they get work time today. 

 

But as the time ticked by and Mrs. Warren kept teaching, Gwen was becoming less and less optimistic. She’d had to ask him as soon as they were dismissed, and that’s so lame. 

 

As she copied the notes off the smart board, she let her mind wander a bit. Peter was walking better than he did on Monday, and no one (media-wise) knew if the hero really was hurt. But Gwen knew. She just didn’t know how, and some macabre part of her wanted to ask and know how bad it was. 

 

Her eyes shifted from her paper to his hands and they looked cold. His knuckles were tinged red and his hands were thin, she could see his veins and the muscles move as he wrote. Or was it his bones? She doesn’t know nor care.

 

She shook her head slightly as she looked back at her paper, her pink pen gliding smoothly over the surface. Honestly, this was her favorite pen, she’d never let anyone use it; friend or not. 

 

She dropped it onto her paper and sat back as Mrs. Warren gave an example, and again, her eyes danced on their own accord as they locked onto Peter’s hair. His hair was always nice, she knows he tries hard to look presentable and clean. 

 

She’s glad he decided to let his hair grow out some. It didn’t reach his neck or anything, but the added length gave it volume and she knows how soft it is (it’s been a while since she’s last touched it, though) and she has the desire to just card her hand through it, see if he would mind. 

 

Probably, since they’re in the middle of class. 

 

Her eyes drifted lower and she stared at his back, completely covered by a blue sweatshirt. The material covered him completely, no one would suspect how lean he actually was. But she’s touched his shoulders and back, she knows. 

 

She kind of wishes to see them without a cover…

 

A hard kick to her shins knocked her out of her trance and she glared at Harry who was looking at her like she just pushed a person to their death. His eyes kept jumping from her to Peter and she instantly got the message. 

 

She was being too obvious. 

 

She looked around and some people were already staring at her, quickly looking back at Mrs. Warren or their papers, but her face got red anyways. Some classmates totally saw her checking Peter out.

 

She hunched over her paper and her hair fell in her face like a curtain, blocking her from others. She picked up her pink pen and again started doodling, hoping it looks like she’s writing down notes. 

 

So embarrassing. 

 

Her saving grace was the dismissal bell, immediately students started to pack up and Mrs. Warren wished them all a good weekend. Gwen didn’t move right away, waiting until some students left. Less chance for eyes to fall on her again. 

 

She saw Peter and Harry get to their feet as well, putting their supplies away but Gwen still made no effort to move quite yet. Apparently she was too obvious with that as well, because Peter spoke up. “You okay?” 

 

She looked up at him, freezing in her movement as he peered down at her. Has he gotten taller? He’s definitely gotten taller. How tall is he now?

 

The sun was shining brightly outside and it made the classroom light up, and she just now noticed that his eyes looked like rings of honey when the light hit him just right. She’s forgotten how to speak it seems because she just continued to stare up at him. 

 

“Gwen.” He leaned down and gave her shoulder a gentle poke, and she blinked (ow, dry eyes). 

 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She said, her face becoming even hotter than before. She can’t believe she was just ogling Peter. Who’s actually Spider-Man! It's still so weird to think about. “I actually have a question.” 

 

“Yeah?” He grabbed her backpack and held it open for her to dump her pen and notebook into it, zipping it for her as she slowly stood up. 

 

You got this, Gwen. Just do it, just do it! 

 

“Want to see Hereditary with me tonight?” She blurted out, no longer meeting his eyes. She took her bag from him and tugged it onto her back. She braced herself for his rejection, or even an excuse. 

 

Just say it, just say it. 

 

“Oh, the horror movie?” Peter said instead and that’s when she looked up at him. His eyes were widened slightly and she could swear she saw a bit of pink on his cheeks. “You and me?” 

 

“Uh,” she swallowed, rubbing the toe of her converse into the floor. This is excruciatingly painful. “Yeah—”

 

“Oh, sick, when should we meet up?” 

 

It was like a record scratch, and she slowly looked Harry’s way. Was he serious? She was literally not talking to him at all. He looked excitedly between her and Peter and she was getting second hand embarrassment, and she felt enough of that plenty for herself. 

 

Peter seemed to take pity on the red head. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly at Harry. “Oh, uh, Harry, I think she just meant—”

 

“Oh, come on, Pete.” Harry interrupted. “It’s been a while since us three have hung out. I know exactly what she meant.” 

 

“No, you clearly don’t.” Gwen snapped. Out of all the things that could happen, she did not count on this. She was hoping it would just be her and Peter, sharing popcorn and maybe even hanging out afterwards. 

 

Harry was not part of the plan. 

 

“Harry—”

 

Again, Harry interrupted Peter. “I’ll look at showtimes for us. Oh, should we go super late? That would be fun.” He pulled out his phone and started to walk towards the door. “I’ll text you guys the details.” With that, he left. 

 

Mrs. Warren, Peter, and Gwen were the only few remaining in the classroom, and Gwen was kind of blown away by Harry’s obliviousness. He had to be joking. Slowly, Peter grabbed Gwen’s wrist and the two walked out of the classroom, heading towards the main doors. 

 

The pair was silent and Gwen wasn’t sure if Peter was just as agitated as her, or if his mind was somewhere else. Once the two reached the bottom of the steps, they stopped walking and that’s when Gwen realized that he never let go of her wrist. 

 

“Peter?” 

 

“I’m sorry about him.” He said, turning to face her. She only smiled and nodded. Wasn’t much to do about it now. “He… I don’t even have an excuse for him.” 

 

“Not your fault.” She said, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She reached for it with her unoccupied arm and saw that Harry texted the groupchat. A show close to midnight was the one he picked, and it looks like he already bought the seats. 

 

Maybe one good thing came from him tagging along. 

 

“Do you want to hang out after your ballet practice?” Peter asked after Gwen repocketed her phone. She smiled and nodded, suddenly feeling really shy in front of Peter. Never has he had that effect on her, and she doesn’t like it. “Just tell me when and I’ll drive over.” 

 

“Okay,” she said, walking backwards as she kept eye contact with him. That’s when he let go of her wrist and she immediately missed its warmth. “I’ll see you later, Peter.” 

 

She didn’t wait for his goodbye, turning on her heel and walking away from him. She wanted to scream, jump, anything to release this sudden energy. No, not energy. 

 

Giddiness. 

 

She smacked her hands to her cheeks as she walked. Oh, she was in major trouble. 

 

---

 

Gwen sat slumped in her movie chair as Harry smacked on his popcorn. She’s sure he isn’t trying to be annoying, but it was hard to concentrate on the movie when he’d dig his hand into the popcorn bucket every few bites, leaving next to none for Gwen to have. 

 

Harry insisted on buying the popcorn and because of that, he plopped himself down in the middle between Gwen and Peter “to share”, and she practically glued herself to the arm rest, trying to keep away from Harry as much as she physically could. 

 

She tried to see if Peter was just as distracted as her and soon discovered that he wasn’t sitting by Harry at all. She looked around as best as she could in the dark but Peter was just not in the theater. 

 

Luckily their seats were in the very back so there wasn’t anyone behind her. Last thing she needed was for people to notice her whipping her head around. 

 

She tapped Harry on his shoulder and he paused mid bite, looking at her. “Where did Peter go?” She whispered. 

 

Harry shrugged. “Bathroom, I think?” 

 

“How long has he been gone?” 

 

Again, Harry shrugged and went back to watching the movie. Gwen only shook her head and got to her feet, leaving Harry without another word. She stepped over legs and whispered apologies to others in the theater until she was at the staircase, carefully making her way down it. Tripping down the stairs would not be good. 

 

Stepping into the brightly lit hallway, she looked around and tried not to bump into people. Going into the men’s bathroom this time wouldn’t go over well with anyone, so she opted to grab her phone and clicked his number, bringing her phone to her ear and hearing it ring. Her earrings clinked against her screen and she cringed slightly at the sound. 

 

Another ring and Peter finally answered. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Where’d you go?” She asked, leaning against a wall. No point trying to beat around the bush. 

 

“Concessions.” Peter answered cheerfully. “I told Harry to tell you.” 

 

“He told me you went to the bathroom.” She grumbled, lightly scratching her forehead as she stared at her boots. 

 

“Ah, no.” She imagined he’s shaking his head. “Harry was kind of hogging the popcorn and I saw that there’s an empty seat next to you… and, um, I don’t know, I just thought—I mean, I’ve been thinking of moving to be by you—but I, you know, didn’t?” 

 

Gwen’s grip on her phone tightened while she stared holes into the wall across from her, biting her lip hard. He was thinking that the whole time? They’ve been in the theater for maybe forty-five minutes, and he’s been thinking about being closer to her. 

 

She could roast a marshmallow on her cheeks with how hot they are. 

 

“Really?” She squeaked out before she cleared her throat. “Are you serious?” 

 

“I… yeah, I am.” 

 

They remained silent on the line and she could hear the popcorn rustling around, he was obviously walking back towards the theater but Gwen couldn’t find the strength to make her voice work. 

 

He was being serious and Gwen wanted to scream and do a happy dance but also hide herself for the rest of eternity. She wanted to slap things in excitement but also throw her phone at a wall and hope it embeds itself into the drywall. 

 

His movements grew louder in her other ear and she moved her eyes to look in that direction, Peter holding a bucket of buttered popcorn and a bag of sour candy. 

 

I love sour candy.

 

He smiled shyly at her as he hung up his phone and pocketed it and held out the bag of sweets to her. She didn’t even move, just stared up at him with wide eyes. She felt like she’s been turned to stone and there was no cure. That’s it, I’ve died and gone to Heaven. 

 

Peter gently reached out to push her arm down, and she just continued to stare at him. This is getting ridiculous, Gwen frowned to herself. I’m so ridiculous. 

 

“I got you candy.” Peter said as if she didn’t have eyes. Gwen continued to stay silent, and she could practically see Peter’s awkwardness flow through him like water. “I know you like sour candy more than chocolates, and I figured you’d like it with your popcorn—not that you have to eat it with the popcorn—or at all! I just… I should stop talking.” 

 

Gwen finally returned to her body after ascending straight through the ceiling and she smiled at the boy in front of her. He was cute and weirdly awkward and he was so smart, and he’s been thinking about her all night. 

 

Wanting to sit by her, wanting to share popcorn with her, thinking she’d like some treats and buying them without hesitation. 

 

She took a tiny step forwards and grabbed the sour candy from his hoodie pocket, hearing his quick inhale and seeing the way he tensed slightly. She was careful to only touch the candy bag, not even daring to touch him because that would be weird for both of them and she wasn’t a weirdo creep! 

 

She pressed the sour candy bag to her chest and her smile grew bigger. “Thank you.” She saw him relax slightly and she spoke once more. “Do you want to share them with me? I can’t eat the entire bag myself.” Yes I can. 

 

Peter blinked and she’s pretty sure his soul left him for a minute. He looked like a cat that heard something unfamiliar and she giggled. He blinked again and he nodded. “Oh, uh, sure.” 

 

“Great!” Gwen did a little hop as she made her way back to the theater doors, trying to ease both of them up by seeming more assured with herself. She walked in first and held the door open for him as they quietly walked up the steps, spotting Harry looking greatly immersed with the movie. She quietly snorted to herself at his dumb look. 

 

She sat back down in her seat and Peter settled in next to her. She was now in the middle of the boys and if Lexi were here, Gwen just knows the girl would make a joke and Gwen could hear Camile and Maya giggling about it. “Save a boy for one of us, Gwen!” She could hear Lexi laugh. Anyone could have Harry for all she cared.

 

She smiled softly to herself as she remembered those three, a feeling of longing accompanied it but she didn’t feel sad, just… emotional, Gwen supposed. 

 

She blinked and Peter set the popcorn between their legs and popped the armrest separating the two up. With the way the chairs were both now reclined, it was like the two were sharing a couch together, and it didn’t help that they were already close. 

 

Gwen tried not to be weird so she opted to quietly open the sour candy bag, also putting it between the two of them. Harry seems to have yet to realize they came back, or maybe he did but he didn’t care about them enough to look away from the screen. Gwen didn’t really care which option it could be. 

 

As the movie progressed, Gwen felt herself relax even more until it got to the point where she was shoulder to shoulder with Peter. They snacked on popcorn and the candy, she had her lemonade to sip on here and there. 

 

Everything was going great! 

 

Until they reached for the candy at the same time. 

 

Once her hand touched his, she jolted just as he did… but neither moved. She bit her lip, the movie long forgotten as she stared at their hands, centimeters from each other. She made no effort to move closer or farther, but neither did he. 

 

With the popcorn bucket casting a shadow down on the candy bag, it would’ve been a little hard to see their hands but it was like Gwen now had night vision and she could see everything clear as day. His hand was slightly shaking, which wasn’t new for Peter, his hands have been shaking since she’s met him and it’s gotten better through the months. 

 

She’s always wanted to just reach out and grab them, to make them still for even just a second. It’s been a very intrusive thought she’s had.

 

And suddenly, it wasn’t just a thought anymore. 

 

She took a chance, a very very risky chance and reached out and held his hand, feeling it stiffen in her grasp and the shaking moving against her skin. Her lip was being crushed so hard between her teeth she’s surprised that it hasn’t burst open. She refused to look at Peter, keeping her eyes straight forward on the screen but she couldn’t pay attention to it, not when his rough hand was in hers, when she could feel his calluses and his veins under her palm and finger tips. 

 

She was so ready for him to pull away from her, to look at him and see him shake his head or look super confused. To hear him whisper that she was just a friend, that he didn’t see her like that, or that she wasn’t his type. She was a big girl, she could take it! 

 

But none of that came. Instead, that hand relaxed in her grasp and she felt his fingers wrap around hers. She fought to keep a smile off her face but it was happening involuntarily and she prayed he wouldn’t look over at her and make her want to scream from… so much emotion. 

 

She won’t lie and say she doesn’t like like Peter. She thinks it’s very obvious that she does, but does this mean he likes her back? His caring, thoughtful attitude was just how he was as a person, she figured that out quickly. But letting her hold his hand and him holding hers in return? That has to be a clear sign. 

 

The movie progressed and before long, it had ended, and the entire time, she and Peter have continued to hold each other's hands. She was half paying attention to the movie and half paying attention to the dips and contours of his hands.

 

The theater lights stayed off for a little bit longer and Harry stretched in his seat, accidentally knocking over his popcorn bucket onto the floor. “Oops.” He groaned as he raised his arms above his head. “Man, that was a good movie.” 

 

“I enjoyed it.” Peter agreed, giving her hand a squeeze. She looked at her legs and rubbed her shoes together to keep from acting like she got electrocuted. “Except for your chewing.” 

 

“Popcorn is meant to be smacked and crunched.” Harry defended himself and that’s when the lights started to rise and Gwen didn’t feel like being questioned by the red head, so she gave Peter’s hand a gentle rub of her thumb and let go, opting to grab the sour candy bag instead. 

 

Her hand felt naked now. 

 

“Was I that bad that you had to sit next to her?” Harry asked, getting to his feet. 

 

“Kinda, yeah.” Peter said without any hesitation and Gwen snorted, getting to her feet as well. They got their heavier sweatshirts on (the October chill at night is no joke) and Gwen made Harry clean up his bucket, ignoring his mutters and whines. 

 

“They get paid to clean this up, you know.” Harry snarked but she was glad to still see him pick up his mess. 

 

“So?” She smirked, hearing Peter snicker behind her. The red head sarcastically laughed and once he cleaned up the majority of his mess, the three walked down the stairs and threw their trash in the garbage. 

 

“Maybe we could see another movie soon.” Harry suggested, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Gwen found herself not hating that idea, and she nodded along and smiled. 

 

“We need to take a momento.” She decided and took her phone out again, switched to Snapchat and she let the boys huddle around her until they agreed on a filter. It didn’t change their appearance at all, but it added an aesthetically pleasing lightening. 

 

They continued to walk, with her up front with the boys behind her, and they all each struck different poses. The one she really liked the most was the one where she was winking, sticking her tongue out. Harry was playfully flexing his biceps, making a duck face, and Peter… oh he was making it too obvious now. 

 

He was pressing his middle and ring fingers to the inside of his palms while his pointer, pinky, and thumb remained straight out. He had one arm out while the other was holding his straw to his lips, lightly biting on the plastic. 

 

She can’t believe him sometimes. 

 

But she had to admit, all three of them looked good and anyone could tell they were having fun. She was having fun. They walked out of the theater, already two in the morning and she could somewhat see her breath. She kind of didn’t want the night to end, Harry was being less insufferable, Peter kept looking at her, and she felt her cheeks begin to hurt with the amount of smiling and laughing she’s doing.

 

Her grandma knew she would be out late and Gwen even sent her a text to not wait up for her, letting her know the plans. She’s just not sure about Peter’s mother (which could possibly be Pepper Potts, her press conference made Gwen’s mind run wild for hours, connecting somewhat invisible dots and assumptions filling her brain) or Harry’s father and she’s kind of scared to ask. 

 

But someone had to be the responsible one, and the boys were wheezing over a joke Gwen didn’t quite hear as she was lost in thought. “Your guy's parents know what the game plan is, right?” 

 

Peter exhaled a small laugh but nodded while Harry shrugged. “My mom knows, she’s probably sleeping, though.” 

 

“He has a tracker on my phone, so he might know but I didn’t have the chance to talk to him today.” Harry answered. “I told his assistant though, so…” 

 

“I’m sure you’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Peter said but then chuckled . “Or… well, today, I mean.”

 

“We’ll see.” Is all Harry said and Gwen felt sympathetic for the red head. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have an absent parent, her mother was easily so involved in not only her life but her brothers too. And her father worked long hours (cons of being a good police officer) but he always made up for that. So Gwen just nodded and smiled kindly at Harry, something she hasn’t really done yet. “But anyways, what’s the deal with that green guy?” 

 

“Oh!” Gwen perked up, rushing to sit on the curb that wasn’t near any parallel parked cars as Peter sat next to her, Harry sitting on the sidewalk behind them. She and Peter turned their bodies and they made a somewhat weird triangle. “Green Goblin! He seems pretty insane.” 

 

“Sounds like it too.” Harry agreed. Some people walked past them and cars weren’t as frequent at two in the morning but they still came and went. “There’s a video that was posted last month where Spider-Man even said he sounded like William Defoe, it’s the funniest shit ever.” 

 

“Well, he does.” Peter laughed. “He’s literally talking in a lot of those videos, I’m sure people agree with Spidey.” 

 

“I agree with him and that’s all I care about.” Harry slapped Peter’s back. “But what about the rumors and speculations that Spider-Man was hurt from that fight near Brooklyn?” 

 

“Oh, I think he was fine.” Gwen might’ve said that a little too fast but she practically sensed that Peter tensed beside her and answered quickly to keep the attention off him for a moment. “Green Goblin messed up Brooklyn High, I’m sure after Gobbo left, Spider-Man was looking for remaining students and left to give medics and the police space to do their jobs.” 

 

Definitely a lie. Peter ran out of chemistry fast and was immediately on the scene where Green Goblin was. Peter didn’t come back to school until a week later, limping around. She so badly wanted to ask him what exactly happened but part of her didn’t want to know. 

 

“Gobbo?” Harry mused. “Seriously?” 

 

“Quicker way to address him as.” Peter smiled at her and Gwen returned it, messing with the zipper on her jacket. “I’m sure he’d love to be called that.” 

 

“Do you guys think he’ll attack again soon?” Harry asked, fiddling with his phone. Gwen didn’t answer and neither did Peter. She really hoped not, Peter shouldn’t have to deal with him again and she wonders where the remaining Avengers are. She knows that Peter trains with Natasha, he has to also be in contact with Steve Rogers or Bruce Banner, right? 

 

Hell, if Pepper Potts really is Peter’s adopted mother (which Gwen still believes, it's too much of a coincidence to think otherwise) then he has to know James Rhodes too, right? 

 

“He might.” Peter answered and they settled back into a silence that was interrupted by car horns and engines revving, people walking around them and their chatting, music from around the corner that Gwen thinks is coming from a bar. 

 

She looks out towards the city, still just as alive at night as it is during the day and now she can’t help but wonder why Green Goblin is attacking, why he’s aiming after Spider-Man, why his terrorizings are so spaced out, and why no other heroes have come to aid Peter. 

 

She turned to stare at him and was grateful that he wasn’t looking at her. He wouldn’t be able to see all her conflicting thoughts that way. 

 

His entire life is becoming more and more clear to Gwen and all she can see is a tragedy. 

Chapter 17

Notes:

I do just wanna start off with saying that Idfk how baseball REALLY works. So let’s just pretend that what I wrote is legit
I was in softball YEARS ago in middle school, I was trying to deep dive into my memories of it and this chapter is what turned up.

ENJOY!🩷

Peter snuck down the hallway, holding a hand out so Millie wouldn’t run past him and ruin the surprise he had planned for Harley. 

 

It was currently 5:39 in the early morning of October 21st. Harley’s fifteenth birthday. He discovered that Harley was born at 5:43 in the morning and it was kind of a fun tradition he and May had where as soon as it turned the time one of them was born, they’d officially wish them a happy birthday. 

 

May wasn’t born until late at night so Peter always purposely played innocent whenever she’d try to break him. 

 

He crept into Harley’s bedroom and kept Millie out, softly shutting the door and tip-toed over to Harley’s bed, ready to grab his legs and shake him. 

 

A couple more minutes passed and once Harley’s alarm clock said the right time, Peter attacked. He grabbed the younger teen’s ankles and shook him, laughing at the startled yell Harley gave. 

 

“Happy birthday, Harles!” Peter turned around and fell on top of Harley’s back, and Peter could hear the boy wheezing as he struggled to breath. “Come on, wake up!”

 

“Get off me, you jerk.” Harley groaned, trying to move under Peter’s weight but was unsuccessful. “I can’t breathe!” 

 

“You sound like you can.” Peter shrugged as he stared up at Harley’s ceiling. There was a hanging airplane in the corner and Peter stared at it while Harley muttered curses aimed towards Peter. “What do you want for breakfast?” 

 

“Oxygen!” Harley yelled and Peter finally took pity on him, laughing as he got off the boy and stood at the end of the bed again. Harley dramatically rolled over and placed a hand over his heart while he caught his breath and Peter rolled his eyes, walking over to the door. 

 

“Come on, I’ll make whatever you want.” He opened the door and Millie ran in, excitedly looking back and forth between the two. “But you gotta get out of bed.” 

 

“Get out of my room.” Harley grumbled into his pillow and Peter rolled his eyes again, keeping the door open as he left. He walked down the stairs and heard Millie stomping after him. He beelined for the front door and opened it for Millie, watching as she circled the lawn. 

 

He left the door open as he walked to the kitchen and opened the cabinets where they kept the food, trying to wonder what Harley would like. Pepper made him pancakes for his birthday breakfast, maybe Harley would like the same thing? Probably not. 

 

He didn’t bother to wake Pepper up, he wanted her to sleep in. She only has so many more months left until the baby is due and he wants her to sleep as much as possible. 

 

He leaned against the island and waited a few more minutes for Harley to get up, otherwise he’ll just bring out some cereal. Oh yeah, he’ll go there. 

 

“Eggs are fine, you know.” Harley murmured as he entered the kitchen, Peter not having heard him. He watched Harley collapse into the mini dinning room table that was in the kitchen, just a simple round dining table with three chairs. They usually only use this table when it’s just the three of them. “Try not to burn them.” 

 

“Since when have I ever burned eggs?” Peter asked as he grabbed a pan from the overhead rack. 

 

“Last week.” Harley deadpanned, propping his head up. “And when Pepper was gone for a week back in August and we wanted breakfast for dinner, and when—”

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, you’ve made your point.” Peter said as he went to the fridge, grabbing the egg carton. “This time I’m determined to not burn the eggs.” 

 

Harley got to his feet and walked out of the kitchen, heading to the sofa. “Don’t undercook them, then.” 

 

Peter only rolled his eyes, hearing the TV be turned on. He really wasn’t that bad of a cook, honest! Eggs were just, kinda, his sworn enemy…

 

He sprayed the pan down with cooking spray, knowing that Harley didn’t care for eggs that have been cooked with butter and cracked the two eggs, watching them immediately sizzle and pop. He grabbed two pieces of bread and popped them in the toaster. 

 

He's not sure what went wrong in the few seconds he had his back turned to the eggs, but he suddenly felt heat curl around his back and when he turned, there was a small mini flame hovering above the eggs. Stupid gas stove!

 

He yelped and took a step back, his eyes wandered and tried to find a cover for the pan. He dove for the cabinets and searched for cover after cover but couldn’t find one. 

 

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god.” He just kept chanting lowly and it was like a moment of clarity hit him. Why didn’t he turn off the burner right away? He slowly turned his head to stare at the small fire and reached for the knob of the stove, hearing it click as he turned it off. 

 

He was so stupid. 

 

I’m so stupid. 

 

But the fire stayed put, kind of calm and beautiful now. He went back to searching for baking soda or even salt, still trying to understand how an egg fire happened. 

 

Oh, Pepper was so not going to let him cook again… If she ever found out. 

 

“What—Peter!” Harley yelled as he walked back into the kitchen and Peter grimaced. Harley was so going to tell Pepper. “What happened?” 

 

“I don’t know!” Peter laughed a little because this whole thing was a little too ridiculous to be happening and he was sort of panicking. This wasn’t the first kitchen fire he’s been witness to but it’s the first one that happened by his hands. “Might’ve been the cooking spray.” 

 

“Did you even use cooking spray? It shouldn’t start things on fire.” Harley walked closer and two stared at the calm fire that was being controlled by nothing more than a little cast iron pan. 

 

Peter only shook his head and laughed again, continuing to search for baking soda and finally finding it, throwing handfuls here and there until the fire finally disappeared but left the smell of burnt eggs. 

 

“FRIDAY?” Harley said, and Peter whipped his head towards his brother, his eyes wide. He better not... “Is Pepper awake?” 

 

“She is not. Would you like me to wake her up?” 

 

“No! No, no, no.” Peter beat Harley to the punch, holding his hand over his brother's mouth, tapping a little into his strength so Harley couldn’t bat him away. “No need to worry her over something that’s been taken care of.” 

 

“If you say so, Peter.” 

 

He finally dropped his hand from Harley’s mouth, sensing that the younger teen was about to lick his hand. “Please don’t tell Pepper.” 

 

“And why not? You just set something on fire, Peter! I’m surprised she wasn’t already informed.” 

 

That was Peter’s doing. He might’ve updated the software of both AI’s and decided it was best if the AI’s didn’t tattle on either boys unless it really was something urgent, like Peter’s leg getting cut off or if Harley was kidnapped in the middle of the night. 

 

So, really, he was also doing Harley a favor. 

 

“Yeah, weird.” He said innocently.

 

“Whatever, I’ll just have cereal.” Harley trudged over to the cabinets, not seeming to register Peter’s apology. He looked back at the pan of blackened eggs and could only tilt his head in confusion. 

 

As said, eggs are his enemy. 

 

---

 

“What's that test you had to take to get into the military?” Harley asked as he drizzled country gravy over his chicken and biscuits. Peter snickered in amusement and shared a knowing look with Pepper. 

 

Harley never seems to run out of questions for Rhodey. 

 

“The ASVAB.” Rhodey answers with a smile, silently gesturing towards the pepper shaker that was across the table, Happy reaching to give it to him. “Your score will help determine which branch you’re able to join.” 

 

“So,” Harley dropped his fork and gave his utmost attention to Rhodey. “What score would I need for the air force?” 

 

“Well, back when I was joining, you’d need a thirty-one or higher.” Rhodey shrugged. “But just because you get a thirty-one doesn’t mean you’re granted into the air force.” 

 

Peter moved his scrambled eggs around on his plate, mixing the poultry and gravy together. After this morning's incident, he can’t look at normally cooked eggs the same. 

 

“Do you think I could join?” At Harley’s question, Peter perked up and he noticed Pepper and Happy doing so too. Harley never said it outright, but Peter had an inkling the younger teen would consider the military for his future plans. But he also loves to play baseball and even talks about going pro, and then there’s his interest and skill in mechanics, boasting how he’ll make new things for the world that’ll last. 

 

He also said he wants to be a train, so…

 

He stifles his laughter with the back of his hand, remembering that conversation from last week. 

 

“Being a train would be so nice, I kind of want to be one.” Harley said, laying on the floor in the living room. Peter looked up from his Russian textbook and raised an eyebrow at the younger teen. “Just… toot toot… all day long.” 

 

“Oh yeah?” He closed his textbook and leaned forward on the couch. “How’s that working out for you?” 

 

“I’m slowly but surely getting there.” 

 

Reopening his textbook, Peter leaned back into the couch again and tried to find where he left off. Something about pronouncing school subjects. “You’ll get there one day, I believe in you.” 

 

“You’ve been thinking about joining?” Pepper asked, and while her voice was clear and steady, Peter could still hear the slight hesitation. He hopes Harley can’t, it would make the whole conversation go down hill. 

 

Harley only shrugged innocently, cutting into his chicken. “Kinda? I think about a lot of things.” 

 

“Mood.” 

 

“What's that?” Happy asked, looking at Peter. “What's mood? What does that mean?” 

 

“It’s just something you say when you relate to someone.” Peter explained, a smile playing on his lips. Nothings funnier than explaining memes to old people. The amount of memes he’s had to explain to Mr. Stark and the only response he’s gotten was confusion is insane. “It’s supposed to be funny.” 

 

“Sounds stupid, I’ll tell you that.” Rhodey butt in and Peter huffed playfully. “What kind of lazy ass slang are you kids saying nowadays?” 

 

“Way to make yourself sound old.” Peter chuckled, the three adults around him each making sounds of offense and Peter looked at Harley with a look of pleased surprise. He was not expecting that reaction. 

 

“I’ll have you know I was born in 1972, young man.” Pepper flicked his forehead. “I’m technically still young, unlike these guys.” 

 

“I resent that!” Happy leaned back in his chair, waving his hand around as he spoke. “I’m a spring chicken.” 

 

“From 1966.” Rhodey deadpanned, quirking a shoulder when Happy turned to glare at him. Peter laughed and before he knew it, he had finished his plate just as the others did and they all migrated outside to where Peter prepared the fire Harley wanted to have. 

 

Cake and presents would be done later but Harley had requested a little downtime after the meal, which Peter was super okay with. They continued to chat and look at the clouds, tell scary stories and recount memories while Millie wandered between all five of them for pets and pats. Peter breathed in the smoke and bounced his leg, anxiety already creeping around him like a hug. He finds it stupid, there’s still plenty of hours before sunset, daylight savings isn’t going to happen until November. 

 

When he was with Gwen and Harry a couple weeks ago, it was easy to forget just how late it was when they all went back to their homes, he made sure that Gwen was dropped off first before Harry offered his driver to bring Peter back to the cabin. 

 

But he was okay. Not once did he think about stars and the moon, the void that came when the sun left. Not once did he remember his time in space. It was so easy to forget those things when he was with Gwen, Harry just added to that effect. 

 

The others got into their own conversation and Peter stared straight ahead at the fire, still thinking about that night. He had so much fun with those two, he made friends with them and if his past self from May could see him now, he wouldn’t believe it. He was so sure he’d be alone for the rest of his life. 

 

Gwen proved him wrong. Cindy, Abe, Charles, and Sally proved him wrong. Harry proved him wrong. Pepper, Harley, Happy, and Rhodey proved him wrong. Natasha proved him wrong. 

 

He’s never been so happy to be mistaken. 

 

He also held hands with Gwen. 

 

He slouched in his chair and put his hands in his pockets, covering half his face with the collar of his hoodie so no one could see his reddening face. They held hands before, but not like how they did during the movie. He even told her that he wanted to be physically closer to her and she let him! What does this mean? Without context it sounds wrong but is it what she wants? He has a good guess, especially when he remembers that she leaned in to kiss him after Green Goblin’s first attack. 

 

But how sure could he be? He could just be remembering things wrong, it would make sense. She’s so beautiful, so intelligent, so talented and so out of his league, Sally was right about that. Gwen probably doesn’t see him as anything more than a friend. 

 

But what if she doesn’t? 

 

Peter tried to contain his sigh and opted to scratch his forehead instead, less suspicious that way. He needs to relax, no good comes from overthinking. But sometimes it did…

 

Jesus, Peter, stop it! He scolded himself. He just needs a distraction, that’s it. 

 

He bites at the insides of his cheeks and lips, chewing away the skin and sucking on the blood as he brings his phone out of his pocket, opting to return the text messages Harry recently sent him. 

 

HairyMan: Ik you’re with Harley but I couldn’t wait

HairyMan: I’m thinking of having a Halloween party, you interested? 

HairyMan: We can even invite that cute chick from the smoothie place

 

Oh, her. Not to be rude, but Peter seriously hasn't thought about that girl since Gwen mentioned going to the smoothie shop to study. He has no interest in meeting the girl again, but if it’s Harry’s party then Harry can invite who he wants. 

 

Me: Are we talking a regular high school party? 

 

He remembers the one Liz had back when he was fifteen. It seemed like a pretty mild, average coming-of-age looking party that movie directors all seem to silently agree on. He wouldn’t be opposed to going to one like that again. 

 

HairyMan: Sure

HairyMan: But just 

HairyMan: more… 

 

Me: What do you mean? 

 

HairyMan: More than just our high school… and more than just HIGH schools in general

 

Was Harry talking about a big bash between older high school kids and college students? Peter frowned slightly at his screen and read the text over again. Yup, that’s exactly what Harry meant. 

 

HairyMan: Let’s just call it pg-13, maybe r if the night is a success

HairyMan: Come oooonnnn

HairyMan: I’d have ZERO fun without you there 

HairyMan: I even asked Gwen 

 

Oh. And suddenly, Peter’s interest in going increased. If Gwen went, he was sure the two would stick side by side and maybe even ditch the party early to just hang out. 

 

Me: I’ll think about it man 

Me: I gotta go now, we’re going to cut cake

 

HairyMan: YESSSS!!!!

HairyMan: TELL HIM I SAID HHHHHBBBBB!!!!

 

Peter only smirked and pocketed his phone, not even realizing they’ve been outside for an hour already. The sun isn’t setting for another two hours so he takes his time walking over to the porch, Harley urgently beckoning the group to go faster. 

 

“Pete, can you go get his cake?” Pepper asks as she sets the table, Harley already bouncing in his seat. Peter walks into the kitchen and heads into the walk-in pantry where the deep freeze is. Pulling out a cookies and cream ice cream cake, he lets the door slam shut and feels a quick burst of cold air before he leaves to join everyone at the table again. 

 

“No way!” Harley gasps. He once mentioned to Peter that he loves ice cream cake but his mother never had the money to buy a premade one and they usually had to go with box cake or brownies. Peter slid that comment over to Pepper and they both made sure that Harley finally got the cake he wanted. 

 

“Happy birthday, honey.” Pepper took her place behind the teen, bending forwards to wrap her arms over Harley, pressing their cheeks together. “I hope you love your cake.” 

 

“I already know that I will.” Harley beamed, bringing his own hands up to cover Pepper’s arms. “Thank you, Mom.” 

 

Peter paused for a moment, as did everyone else. He looked up and saw that Harley had his eyes closed and a close-lipped grin that seemed painful. He quickly shook himself out of it and resumed his task of putting the candles in the cake, Rhodey standing by with a lighter. 

 

Yet another thing Harley beat him to. Calling Pepper mom to her face. 

 

Peter only ever calls her that when he’s talking to people that have no idea who Pepper is, finding that if he didn’t address her as such, people would have questions. 

 

But he’s never said it to her face. 

 

Happy once again set a camera up at the end of the table, the timer ticking away. Peter was quick to slide in next to Harley and Pepper, wrapping an arm around Pepper’s back and tilting his head into Harley’s. 

 

“Alright. Smile, Harles.” Peter said, feeling Rhodey and Happy navigate their own spots behind the three of them. He sees in his peripheral that Harley reopens his eyes and Peter could see tears building up. But Harley seems to refuse to let them fall because the flash went off and Harley blinked far too much for it to be a normal reaction to a camera flash. 

 

“Where did you get that camera?” Rhodey asked as the picture it had just taken fell out of it. “It’s like a polaroid mixed with a digital.” 

 

“Tony had some ideas.” Is all Happy said, waving the picture. Peter ruffled Harley’s hair and smiled gently at him before getting to his feet and walking to the two men. “Look at that, all clear.” 

 

Peter looked over Happy’s arm and saw the picture, all five of them nestled around Harley whose tears were clear as day. Peter felt sympathetic towards the younger teen but also pride. He handled that much better than Peter did on his birthday, the differences between the two pictures were vast but the setting was the same. 

 

He’ll have to talk with Harley later. 

 

“Got a marker?” Happy asked and Peter nodded, walking towards the TV stand where a little cup of writing utensils sat and pulled out a sharpie, tossing it to Happy. “Thank you.” 

 

Peter watched as Happy wrote down the date and the occasion. 

 

October 21st, 2018

Harley’s 15th Birthday!

 

Peter smiled at the picture, feeling a bittersweet feeling rise in his chest. This must’ve been what Pepper felt back in August and some guilt tingled in his gut. He looked back up and saw Pepper smiling at Harley and the boy in question slowly eating his cake. 

 

At least he’s eating his, Peter thought with a grimace, remembering how he refused to touch his cake because the idea of eating it sent shivers down his spine and made his stomach churn. 

 

“Come on, guys, cakes going to melt.” Pepper said, laying out three plates for the others. 

 

“Warm milk cake.” Peter said with a soft tone, laughing loudly when Rhodey quickly swiped him the arm, wrapping his hand round the area that Rhodey just punched. “Ouch!” He laughed. 

 

“Surprised I could land a hit on you.” Rhodey smirked, taking a bite of his piece. “What happened to your tingle?” 

 

Immediately Peter’s smile fell. “My what?” 

 

“Your tingle.” Happy chuckled, dropping his fork and jabbed the air for emphasis. “The famous Peter Tingle.”  

 

Peter fought to keep the smile off his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Please do not start calling it my tingle, that just sounds wrong.” 

 

“Well when you point it out, it does.” 

 

Thanks, Harley. 

 

“Yeah, kid, get your mind out of the gutter.” Happy sighed in false disappointment and Pepper snorted which caused Rhodey to fall into giggles as well. “This is a family event.” 

 

“I was just saying—!” Peter laughed, unable to get his own words out before he was lost in chortles too. Harley’s wheezing grew in volume too and tears sprang to Peter’s eyes as he laughed hard. “My stomach hurts!” 

 

“Mine too!” Harley started to tilt dangerously from side to side on his chair and Peter reached out to keep him still. 

 

“Stop laughing, I demand it.” Pepper wiped her eyes and tried to take another bite of her cake. “I can feel Morgan bouncing around.” 

 

“Oh, you guys heard her.” Rhodey sighed deeply, his smile twitching as he obviously fought to keep it a frown. “We don't want Morgan to have a concussion.”

 

Pepper gasped and threw a plastic fork at Rhodey. Peter wiped his own eyes and looked down at his puddle of cake, looking unappetizing now. Looking over, Harley’s cake also looked too sad to even gaze upon. He got up from his chair and walked to the kitchen, dumping the paper plate into the trash with Harley right on his heels.

 

Presents happened quickly and Harley seemed grateful for each one he received, each time gasping in excitement or talking about how much he’s been wanting that, how useful this could be, etc etc. 

 

But just one hour before the sun set began, Rhodey had to leave as he received a phone call from one of his superiors and was needed as soon as possible. He wished Harley another happy birthday before he left, Happy staying to help clean up. 

 

Midway through the clean up, Peter noticed a lack of one Harley Keener. He frowned and looked into the kitchen where Pepper and Happy were washing dishes but no Harley present. He looked into the living room and that was vacant too. Looking upstairs, the boy's bedroom light was off. Then he finally turned around and saw the boy sitting outside with his back to the house, staring at the old wagon wheel that Peter nailed to a tree so long ago. It was a remembrance of Harley’s mother and sister; Josie and Hannah. 

 

He walked over to the door and walked quietly down the porch steps, hoping his silent foot falls remain that way in the grass. It certainly didn’t help that some leaves had begun to fall and the grass was turning a dead yellow so it was crunchy no matter how quiet he tried to be. 

 

“Hey, Harley.” He gave up trying to find the right places to step and walked normally towards Harley, dropping to the ground and sitting crisscrossed with him. “What’s going on?” He asked softly, feeling like the entire world decided to quiet down and listen in.

 

“…nothing.” Harley sniffed and shrugged, keeping his eyes on the wheel. Peter tried not to move or speak because maybe Harley will crack under the silence. He did move his eyes downward and stare at the wild flowers that bloomed through the grass, swaying gently in the chilly wind. 

 

He always enjoyed the fall, where trees turned beautiful reds and oranges, the rain that fell and the winds that didn’t make him freeze to death but still gave him a chill. He loved wearing comfy clothing and watching scary movies in this weather. The baking that he and May did always made their little apartment smell like cinnamon and pumpkin with no edible treats to show for it. 

 

When Ben was still alive, he and Peter took the opportunity to rake lawns that needed it like parks that were looking for volunteers or homeowners that were either too busy or unable to care for their lawns. Afterwards, they’d get a sandwich and some Gatorade from whatever bodega was the closest and they’d sit on a bench and talk about the little things.

 

He remembers his mom letting him jump in leaf piles whenever they went on their daily walks and while he couldn’t remember her laugh, he knows she did that often. He stared at the wagon wheel and tried to remember more about her but was unable to. 

 

He remembers hearing his dad complain about baseball season being over around this time of year too, but once again, his father was just… absent from memory. 

 

“I knew it would be hard.” Harley began quietly and Peter looked back at him, waiting. “I saw how you were… and I was so sure I’d be the same.” He licked his lips. “But I wasn’t. I… yeah, I teared up but I didn’t cry, and what if it’s because I don't miss them as much as I should?”

 

“Harley,” Peter reached to clasp his hand on Harley’s shoulder. “You not crying does not determine how much you miss someone or how much love you hold for them.” 

 

“But I still feel guilty, Peter.” Harley’s eyes were shining brightly with unshed tears as he looked at Peter, his face growing a little red. “I mean, on your birthday—”

 

“Hey,” A lot of the time, Peter always forgets that Harley is younger than him. He doesn’t have the same experiences or expectations placed on his shoulders as Peter does. He doesn’t hold the same trauma Peter does. “You do realize that I had a lot going on in my mind at that time, right?” 

 

“You still do.” Harley mumbled but Peter chose to ignore it. “But whatever,” he spoke louder. “I miss them so much but apparently not enough to be sad that they’re not here.” 

 

“You seem pretty sad to me.” 

 

That once again made Harley look at him and Peter only shrugged. Not crying doesn't mean one isn’t sad, he knows Harley is aware of that. But he also understands how much of a hypocrite people can be to themselves under these circumstances. 

 

“The fact that you’re out here, sitting in front of that wheel, feeling guilty, shows that you are just as hurt as everyone else.” His grip tightened on Harley’s shoulder and a tear fell down the younger teen's cheek, his lips quivering. Peter kept talking. “You are not a bad person for smiling or having fun, you’re allowed to be happy even when those we love aren’t around.” 

 

“But…” Harley sniffed, wiping the tear off his cheek. “How? H-How can I?” 

 

Peter didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure if he could. He wasn’t being fair to Harley nor himself because all he was saying to Harley, was all that he himself was told before but didn’t believe. He still doesn’t. But Harley doesn’t need that truth right now. 

 

“We just take it day by day.” Peter said instead, moving his hand to wrap his arm around Harley’s shoulders, tugging him closer. “I’m sorry I haven’t noticed before how much you were hurting.” 

 

Harley laid his head on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter felt his body move with silent sobs. The two stayed together for a while, the sun was now being hidden by gray clouds and the promise of night was to be soon but Peter couldn’t find it in himself to move. Harley obviously needed this and Peter didn’t want to spoil it. 

 

“I didn’t even realize.” Harley said, his voice thick from crying. “I really was fine.” He raised a hand and Peter got the idea he was wiping his face. “It was just today that hit hard.” Peter rested his cheek on top of Harley’s head, silently willing him to continue talking. “My heart feels so heavy… Is this how it feels for you everyday?” 

 

Again, Peter didn’t speak, thinking about Harley’s question but having no intention of answering it. Yeah, having a heavy heart sounds familiar. But the brain fogs were worse, very depressing, concerning, definitely doesn’t feel like him. The struggle to even want to get out of bed because even the blankets feel too heavy, the way his memory gets fuzzy sometimes or when he just… goes away. 

 

There’s been a number of times he got lost looking at the wall or ceiling, blanket or picture, and Pepper is usually the one to snap him out of it, entering the room and chatting with him. It usually takes a moment for him to react, but Pepper doesn’t seem to notice. 

 

The wind hits a little harder this time and Peter tightens his hold on Harley, some leaves falling around them. He doesn’t ever want Harley to go through what Peter is. The thoughts, the nightmares, the struggle to pretend he’s okay and that everything’s fine when it’s really not. 

 

He doesn’t want Harley to lie to others about how he’s doing, to hide his mind and all the mean things it says. 

 

He doesn’t want Harley to get to that point. 

 

“We just keep going.” He finally says. “Please talk to me when life gets too hard, okay? You know I’ll be there to listen.” 

 

A laugh jolts Harley in Peter’s hold. “Like I said, white knight complex.” Peter only snorts and shakes his head, Harley's hair scratching his cheek. “But seriously, today was just… a little too much. All the other days, I was okay. I miss them a lot, but… I guess I’m just handling it better than most.” 

 

“Oh, one hundred percent.” Peter said with utmost confidence. “But that doesn’t mean you don't have bad days.” 

 

Harley only nodded and relaxed further into Peter’s hold, both of them silent once again. The light gray was slowly turning darker and Peter bit his lip to keep himself from suggesting that they at least go inside. He willed his knee to not bounce or his fingers to start tapping. Harley needed this comfort and he didn’t want to rush him when he wasn’t ready to let go yet. 

 

But Pepper must be a psychic, an angel, or just plain spying on the two of them because just as Peter was sure he was going to bite through his lip, Pepper poked her head outside. 

 

“Hey, boys!” She called. “Happy’s going to leave, come say goodbye.” 

 

Harley let out a big exhale and slowly pulled away from Peter. The older teen smiled at Harley and patted him on the back a few times before he got to his feet, which fell asleep in the span of… Peter wasn’t actually sure how long they’ve been out here. Less than an hour.

 

As they walked to the house, Peter suddenly had a thought. “When does baseball end?” 

 

“End of November.” Harley answered softly. 

 

“Even if it snows?” That doesn’t sound like it would be fun at all. Peter can just imagine how uncomfortable the jerseys would be when wet and the coldness would be unbearable. 

 

“Yeah.” Harley nodded. 

 

“How come you haven’t had any games yet?” 

 

That made Harley stop walking and look up at Peter with a look of pure confusion. Peter only blinked and had a split second of panic overcome him. Did Harley have games and he just missed them? Oh no…

 

Harley confirmed his fear. “We’ve had a few. But you’ve been so busy with your stuff. It’s okay, Peter, I get it.” 

 

“No, no.” Peter shook his head. “No. That’s no excuse. Why haven’t I heard any talk or seen any pictures or videos?” 

 

Harley tilted his head. “… we have talked about it.” 

 

“What?” 

 

Was Peter just so constantly lost in his head that he’s started to tune out conversations around him? He realizes that sometimes he sits down and next thing he knows, a lot of time has passed but that hasn’t happened in a while. He thinks it hasn’t happened in a while. 

 

“You do realize your life is busy, right?” Harley said, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “Spider-Man, decathlon, friends, therapy, training, school in general. It’s okay if you miss my games, I seriously get it.” 

 

No, Peter needs to make this right. He can’t just let Harley think he doesn’t have room in his life to watch a baseball game, that’s just messed up. 

 

“When’s your next game?” He asked, determination clear. 

 

“Wednesday.” 

 

“Alright, cool, I promise I’ll be there.” He needs to ask Pepper for information. “Now let’s say good-bye to Happy.” 

 

With that, Peter once again wrapped an arm around Harley’s shoulders and they walked to the house together, leaves falling off trees taking the place the two once stood. 

 

---

 

“Got anything going on tonight, Parker?” Harry asked as he practically shoulder slammed the locket next to Peter’s. The brunette only raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Did that hurt?” He asked cheekily as he stored some extra snacks in a little basket he had that MJ gave him last year that was covered in scratch-n-sniff motivational stickers that Peter could still kind of smell the scent of. She claimed it was because cheesy boxes give her an allergic reaction. 

 

“A little.” Harry responded quickly. “But seriously, Dad is away again and I’ll be bored.” 

 

“Sorry, man.” Peter closed his locker and shouldered his backpack again. “My brother has a baseball game tonight, I promised I’d be there.” 

 

“Oh, really? Cool.” Harry walked in step with Peter as they walked to Mrs. Warren’s class for study hall. “What's he play?” 

 

“Uh, he mostly pitches, but when he doesn't, he’s usually in right field.” Peter doesn’t know too much about baseball, sports in general, but baseball was always the one he could easily understand. Hockey too. “He’s been playing for a few years.” 

 

“Who’s he playing against?” Harry asked as the two entered the classroom, dropping their bags to the floor and taking their seats. 

 

“Roosevelt, it’s a home game.” He was starting to get a tad bit suspicious about Harry being a bit too curious about the game. “…are you going to ask if you can come with?” 

 

“What? Parker, I am a busy man, I have things to do—” when Peter didn’t look convinced, Harry broke character. “Yes, I’m asking.” 

 

A snort and a shake of the head later, Peter agreed to take Harry with him. Only hiccup would be trying to hide Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. Maybe heavy sunglasses and baseball caps will work, it has in the past for them. Those three were even planning on it from the beginning. 

 

He shot a quick text to Pepper and she was fine with Harry coming with, and that’s when the bell rang for study hall to begin. 

 

He would’ve invited Gwen as well but she has ballet practice. She was so excited to do a dress rehearsal in a couple weeks that she practically sprints to practice everyday she has it. 

 

Before he knew it, school had ended and the boys walked out with Gwen, who was already inching away and promising to text later before she shot off like pink lightning. 

 

Peter laughed and that’s when Harry nudged him in the shoulder. “When are you going to do something about that, man?” 

 

“About what?” 

 

Harry gave him a deadpanned look. “Really? Dude, you can’t tell me you don’t notice it.” 

 

Peter only tilted his head away from the redhead to put on his sunglasses, his flannel heavy enough to ignore the chill. Notice it? Peter has an idea of what Harry is referring to but he just can’t find himself brave enough to say it. 

 

Almighty Spider-Man, brave enough to fight for the universe! Too wimp to admit feelings for a girl!

 

He could hear J. Jonah Jameson’s voice for some reason. 

 

“I saw the way you two were with each other at the movies.” That sent Peter into a panic and he quickly looked at Harry, his heart pounding. He saw them together? Holding hands? Oh jeez. “You sat next to her, you kept looking at her, it was kinda vomit worthy.” 

 

“So you didn’t… like, ya know… see anything?” 

 

“Like what?” 

 

“Nothing, never mind.” He said that way too fast but he looked away from Harry and the two walked over to Brooklyn High which was a nice lengthy walk, Peter leaving his car in Midtown’s parking lot. It would be too stressful having to find a parking spot and he liked walking, a good stretch for his legs. 

 

Arriving at the main entrance to the field, he saw Pepper waiting, her hair done in a braid and a dark green baseball cap rested in her head, dark sunglasses hiding half her face. He waved as she smiled, her pregnant belly stretching her gray shirt. 

 

“That’s your mom?” Harry asked as the two approached. Peter nodded, ready to yell about her lack of jacket when Harry spoke again. “Dude, she’s huge.” 

 

“Hey.” Peter said disapprovingly. “She’s pregnant.” 

 

“You know that’s what I meant.” Harry said. “She ‘bout to pop soon?” 

 

“Uh, in late January or early February.” And that’s when they finally got to Pepper, the older woman smiling at the two. 

 

“You left your car at the school?” Pepper asked and at Peter’s nod, she looked at Harry, sticking a hand out. “So nice to meet you! I’m Peter’s mom.” 

 

“Harry Osborn, pleasure’s all mine.” Harry greeted with a firm looking handshake, his voice calm and collected and Peter almost wanted to roll his eyes but that wouldn’t be as fun if they couldn’t see it. 

 

He's so fake, Peter thought amusedly. Just a second ago Harry was talking to him like any other teenage boy Peter knows. The attitude, the tone of voice. Already, he can see Pepper liking the redhead. 

 

“Ah, you could learn some manners from him, Pete.” Pepper teased and when she turned her back to them, Harry smirked and Peter — oh so maturely — stuck his tongue out at him. “Come on, your uncles are already saving us seats.” 

 

“Uncles?” Harry looked at Peter and the brunette nodded. That was another thing he and Harley have started doing. Calling Pepper their mom was a way to get people to not ask questions. Calling Rhodey and Happy their uncles was along the same lines. 

 

“Not biologically.” Peter explained as loud family and friends soon overloaded his hearing. He was lucky to remember his noise canceling earbuds and quickly slipped them in, sound dropping to almost half of what it actually is for him. “They’re both family friends and they've just been upgraded to uncle.” 

 

“I’ve worked with them for a long time, James more than Harold.” It took everything for Peter not to snort. Harold Hogan. “They’re the closest thing I have to brothers.” Pepper continued as they approached the bleachers, and Peter saw Rhodey waving them over, holding a water bottle. 

 

“You took forever.” Rhodey commented as Pepper sat down next to him, groaning as she did so. “Want some water?” 

 

“Nah, I’m good.” She said as Peter sat on a bleacher just below the two, Happy in his left with Harry on his right. He leaned back against Pepper’s knees and she pushed his hair off his forehead, tilting his head back as she looked down at him. “You need a trim.” 

 

“Literally what I’ve been telling him.” Harry laughed and that’s when he looked at Rhodey and Happy, offering his hands to Happy and Rhodey, criss crossing them. “Nice to meet you both, I’m Harry.” 

 

“Good to meet you, Harry.” Rhodey reached over to clasp his hand tightly. “Nice grip. I’m James.” 

 

“Harold.” Happy smiled tightly, and even with sunglasses on, Peter could see the smile doesn’t reach the older man’s eyes. 

 

“So,” Harry dropped his hands to his lap, looking out at the field to see the baseball team practicing throwing and catching with each other. “What's his number?” 

 

“Three.” Pepper answered, adjusting her cap, looking over the students. “Can you guys see him?” 

 

Peter looked over the team and couldn’t find the number three jersey. “Isn’t that the same jersey number as Babe Ruth?” 

 

“Suddenly he knows things about sports.” Happy muttered but Peter still punched him jokingly in the arm. 

 

“Damn straight.” Rhodey nodded, taking a swig of his water. “I say it only fits.” 

 

“Okay, but can you guys see him?” Pepper once again got the conversation back on track and after a moment, Rhodey pointed to the ride of the field, where Peter saw Harley chatting with a man looking like the coach. 

 

“Gin,” Rhodey gently swatted her knee, still pointing. “He’s right there.” 

 

Peter felt Harry lean closer to him, whispering. “Gin?”

 

“Just a nickname.” Peter answered. Pepper was already a nickname for her, her first name being Virginia, but Gin was apparently a nickname only her father had called her. The public knows her to be Pepper Potts, they know her actual given name is Virginia, but no one knows about Gin. 

 

It was the safest bet for when they were out in public. 

 

James was a very common name, Peter knows just four alone in his class, so no one should be able to connect the dots and just like Pepper, the public only knows Happy as Happy. Supposedly being known as an emotion is better than being known as Harold. 

 

“That has to be a good thing, right?” Pepper wandered and Peter honestly had no idea. Extra pointers? Reminders? Excuses? 

 

“Most likely.” Happy said. “That was my experience in my sports.” 

 

“Mine too.” Rhodey nodded. “I’ve never seen the kid play, maybe his coach is telling him to stand out.” 

 

With that, the music that was playing faded into background noise at the two schools each went to one end of the field, their coaches speaking to all of them. An announcer blared through the speakers and a hush fell on the crowd. 

 

“Good afternoon, families and friends! Welcome to Brooklyn High School, where we have the honor of getting a visit from Eleanor Roosevelt High School!” A student announced and a fake air horn sound effect came after, which welcomed cheers from those around Peter. “Today we have our very own Harley Keener from Brooklyn and Lennon Trek from Roosevelt standing in as pitchers! Give them a hand, folks!” 

 

Peter cheered as he saw Harley run out to the pitcher's plate, his blue and gold jersey and hat bring it easy to know where he is. Lennon jogged over at the same time, he wasn’t wearing a hat but his blue and white jersey was significantly less bold than Brooklyn’s. 

 

Peter watched as the two shook hands, Lennon letting go and joining his team as Brooklyn took the field, spreading out while a coach chucked a ball at Harley. Peter watched with bated breath, somehow worried Harley wouldn’t catch it and get smacked in the face. But he opened his hand which was encased with a glove and caught it like it was merely lightly tossed to him, spinning on his heel to face that home plate.

 

Peter heard Harry whistle impressively. “That was smooth.” 

 

“He can catch.” Happy agreed. 

 

“Up to bat first is Daniel Cleaves, long standing player at Roosevelt, beginning his dedication to the sport at merely five years old. He is now a senior, looking to play pro for the Mets.” 

 

The senior toed the hole plate, his bat hanging limply in his hand as he twirled it, and Peter could see him chewing gum. Can they do that? That seems like a choking hazard to Peter. 

 

He saw Harley get in position, holding the baseball to his glove, taking a deep breath. Before Peter could even blink, Harley pitched the baseball towards Daniel and the senior only jolted before he let the ball make its way into the catcher's glove. 

 

“Atta boy, Harley!” Rhodey cheered, clapping loudly. “Do it again!” 

 

And Harley did just that. The next throw he did, Daniel didn’t have too much time to react. Peter almost felt bad for him, if he’s Mets material and missing a freshman’s pitches, that can’t be much of a confidence booster. 

 

But on the third pitch, Daniel swung and it connected nicely with the ball with a loud smack. The ball flew and Peter saw the right fielder’s of Brooklyn High reach their gloves up high and hoped to catch it. It missed a glove and rolled, but by the time it reached second base, Daniel slid to touch it just before he could be put out. 

 

The crowd clapped and whistled, and Peter heard some compliments aimed towards Harley. “Man, that kid can throw.” One man said to his wife, who nodded in agreement. 

 

“If number three doesn’t get picked for the Mets, I’ll be surprised.” Another said. 

 

“Nice throw. Let’s see if he can hit.” 

 

Peter smirked smugly to himself as he focused back on the game, pride coursing through his bones. That was his little brother they were talking about, and they were absolutely correct. Peter watched as Harley stretched his throwing arm, and he thought, yeah, Harley did say he would like to be a professional baseball player one day. 

 

“Alright, Daniel Cleaves finally got a chance to hit that insanely fast ball, impressive work, senior!” The student from Brooklyn said, electing more cheers. “Next up to bat is a freshman who’s new to the scene but shows much promise. Give a hand for Flynn Hart!” 

 

From behind Peter, a loud whooping was heard and when he turned, he saw a bunch of young teens screaming wildly and punching each other for Flynn. “Yeah, get them, FlyFly!” 

 

“Kick their ass!” 

 

“I’ll give you a big smooch!” 

 

An amused scoff from Harry had Peter look away and the redhead only shook his head. “Preteens.”

 

“So uncivilized, I know.” Peter played along, watching the game as he did so. “What's wrong with the youth nowadays?”  

 

“I’d have to say no war veteran dad.” Harry said nonchalantly and Peter choked on his own salvia to hide his laughter. No way would he allow the adults to hear that. 

 

“Harley stretches his arm out, ready to once again give us an amazing pitch.” Harley once again got in the throwing position and whipped the ball towards Flynn, the freshman swung but missed the ball by a hair. 

 

“Strike one!” Peter heard the umpire yell. 

 

Flynn ended up getting all three strikes and Daniel remained at second base, Roosevelt switching out their batter with a taller boy, wearing a hat instead of a helmet. 

 

“Sorry to see Flynn strike out but in his place comes Johnny Storm, a junior at Roosevelt known for his fiery streaks of winnings and impressive swings!” 

 

Must’ve been a performer of some type because the teen started to flip the bat and it somehow perfectly landed just right in his grasp each time, and Peter could see an arrogant smirk on Johnny’s face. 

 

“Let's see if he can keep it up tonight!” 

 

“Yeah, Johnny, hit ‘em hard!” A Roosevelt player cheered from the side, which got some other players to cheer. 

 

“You got this, Johnny!” A woman in the stands yelled. “Get a home run!” 

 

“Quite the reputation.” Pepper remarked. 

 

Harley wasted no second throwing the ball, and Peter could tell that he put a little more force behind it. Johnny was just as fast, and he swung the bat. The ball connected with a sharp smack, Peter looked over to Harry to see if the teen heard it too. 

 

Harry was already looking at him, his eyes wide. “Holy shit!” He laughed. 

 

“Now that’s a home run!” The student exclaimed, Johnny Storm and Daniel Cleaves both took off, the two of them hitting that home plate before any of Brooklyn’s players could throw it. “That’s a total of eight new points for Roosevelt!” More fake air horn sounds came through and people stood up to cheer and clap, yelling out Johnny’s name and a couple times Peter heard someone yell Daniel’s. 

 

The game carried on until it was time to switch it up, Roosevelt running out to the field and Brooklyn getting ready to bat. 

 

Peter looked over and saw that Harley was third in line, and he hoped he could get that home run that everyone awarded Johnny for with cheers and claps. 

 

“We welcome Lennon Trek to the pitchers mark, ready to give us some wicked throws!” Peter clapped softly along with the crowd. “First to bat is freshman Aaron Hollis, a dedicated player since middle school, let’s see that ball sail, Aaron!” 

 

“That’s Harley’s friend, isn’t it?” Pepper asked Peter, resting her chin on the crown of his head. He nodded, watching as Aaron swung on the first pitch but missed, but on the second, Aaron swung hard and he managed to run to first base. 

 

“Great swing, Aaron! Next to bat is a sophomore who had just transferred from another school this year, please welcome Lukas Molans!” 

 

Once more, the game carried on, Lukas struck out and Aaron stayed put at first base and then it was Harley’s turn to bat. He thankfully swapped his hat out for a helmet, Pepper wouldn’t be too happy if he didn’t.

 

“Oh, I gotta record this.” Pepper said, fumbling with her phone before holding it up. “Swing hard, Harles!” 

 

“Yeah!” Peter cheered, clapping loudly. He even bumped his elbow into Harry’s and the redhead began cheering too. “You got this!” 

 

“Go, little freshman, go!” Hardy yelled. 

 

“Wait, what?” Peter stopped clapping and looked at Harry. Out of all the things he could’ve said, Harry chose that? 

 

“Oh, shit, is he a sophomore?” Harry looked incredibly freaked out before he weakly yelled out, raising a fist. “Go, little sophomore, go?” 

 

“Dude,” Peter smacked Harry’s fist out of the air playfully. He was glad Harley didn’t hear that, he could already see the glare the newly fifteen year old would give. “You’re so embarrassing.” He laughed.

 

“Next up is Brooklyn’s pitcher! Harley Keener, be the one to get a home run!” The announcer cheered, a lion's roar sound effect accompanied the crowd's applause and Peter saw Harley roll his eyes. 

 

Lennon must’ve had some sort of personal issue with Harley because the kid did not hold back. He practically tore his own arm out with the force of that pitch. But Peter saw Harley dig his foot into the dirt and twisted his body and that ball connected perfectly with the bat. The ball went high and far and Harley took off like a rocket, Aaron running ahead as well. The two ran the bases until they finally hit home, and Peter felt himself and everyone around him shoot to their feet. 

 

“Yes! Way to go, Harley!” Rhodey yelled, pumping his fists in the air. “Yes!” 

 

Peter whooped and Harry just plain out screamed. Happy clapped loudly while Pepper lowered her phone and started to shake Peter by his shoulders in her excitement. 

 

“Two players hit that home base, points to Brooklyn High!” The announcer repeatedly hit the airhorn button and Harley was getting high fives from his teammates and a slap on the back from his coach. “Can they do it again, ladies and gentlemen?” 

 

And the game kept going, until it was finally the end and the winner of the game was announced. All around, parents cheered for their sons, friends promised parties in celebration, and confetti randomly rained down on them as the announcer’s voice cracked. 

 

“Congratulations Brooklyn High for your amazing win! And congratulations to Roosevelt for their amazing sportsmanship and for visiting us today! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, players of all ages, travel safe and have a good night! This is Lalit Basu signing out!” 

 

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Pepper bounced excitedly as she practically pushed Harry and Peter down the stairs of the bleachers, Rhodey and Happy right behind her. “We have to congratulate him!” 

 

“Because pushing Peter and Harry over will make them go faster.” Rhodey sarcastically commented and Peter laughed, pretty sure Pepper turned to glare at the older man through her sunglasses.  

 

Finally they reached the field where parents and friends had already reunited with Brooklyn’s players. Peter immediately found Harley and they all beelined for him but then something else caught Peter’s eye and it was like time slowed and all sound faded into a low bass. 

 

There stood Johnny Storm, a blonde haired woman and a dark haired man by him. Peter frowned slightly when he saw that Johnny was already staring at him, the blonde woman and dark haired man turning to stare as well. He kept eye contact with them as he walked and they didn’t even blink.

 

A shiver ran down Peter’s spine, a sense of familiarity was accompanied by strangeness. Those three were staring at him like they knew who he was, what he’s done, and what he will do. He didn’t like it, the way they didn’t even seem fazed caused goosebumps to rise on Peter’s skin but yet, his spidey sense remained at its normal, low buzz. 

 

Johnny Storm then slowly smiled, all friendly, like he wasn’t just staring through Peter’s very being. He opened his mouth and began talking and that’s when the other two looked away and time returned back to Peter. 

 

He honed in on his hearing and tried to hear what they were saying but it was only about the game, and the woman suggested celebratory pizza to which the other two agreed. 

 

What was that? Peter could feel sweat cover his forehead and he suddenly felt very sick. That was too intense, too weird, and he almost just wanted to disappear and hope to never see those three again. 

 

Harley noticed them and Peter shook himself out of his head, putting on a smile and jogging to give the teen a side hug. “Nicely played, dude!” He slightly shook Harley as he laughed. “Those pitches! You were holding out on me!” 

 

“I didn’t want to break any windows.” Harley said, referring to their limited space at the cabin. They had a lot of acres but unfortunately more than half was decorated with trees and plants. Harry joined them and offered a high five to Harley. 

 

“Sweet game!” The redhead complemented and Harley only stared up at him with his jaw dropped. 

 

“Aren’t you, like, Harry Osborn? Heir to Oscorp?” Harley looked back and forth between Harry and Peter. “Are you friends with Peter?” 

 

Harry nodded, his hand still in the air. “I’d say so.”

 

Harley pushed Peter away and took a step back himself, pointing a finger accusingly at him. “You suck! You’re friends with a millionaire? And you didn’t tell me!” 

 

“Oh, uh,” Harry lowered his hand. “Billionaire, actually.” 

 

“You are actually the worst.” Peter said without any heat. Harry had to have known that he didn’t help Peter’s case at all, right? 

 

“Facts are facts, man.” Harry shrugged. 

 

Pepper finally stepped in and pulled Harley in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. Harley wouldn’t even wrap his arms around her as they were trapped. “Oh, sweetheart! I’m so proud of you!” 

 

“You did great, kiddo.” Happy smiled, reaching to knock Harley’s hat off his head and ruffle his hair. Peter tried not to cringe at the sweat smell. 

 

“Thank you, guys.” Harley wheezed, Pepper still tightly holding him. His face was starting to get a little red and Peter wasn’t sure if it was from lack of oxygen or mass embarrassment. “Mom—can’t—breath!” 

 

Proper released him and Harley made a show of dramatically inhaling, hand to his chest and everything. Peter only rolled his eyes and that’s when he noticed Harry looking down at his phone. “All good?” 

 

“Oh, yeah.” Harry looked up and smiled. “Just that my driver is here, I have to go.” 

 

“Well it was very nice to meet you,” Pepper said, reaching out to hug Harry as well. She must be so overcome with emotion because she wasn’t usually this touchy. “And so sweet of you to watch Harley’s game, it means a lot.” 

 

“Of course!” Harry smiled. “But before I leave, why don’t I take a picture of you guys?” 

 

“Oh, that would be nice.” Pepper handed him her phone and she turned around to face Peter, knocking his sunglasses off. “I would if I could.” She mumbled, addressing his curious look, and he simply pocketed the glasses, his hat was still on as it matched Harley’s. “Alright, boys, come close!” 

 

Harley stood in front with Peter's arm draped over his shoulders. He had to bend his knees a little so Happy could comfortably be seen. Pepper was on Harley’s other side and Rhodey behind her. 

 

Peter saw Harry zoom in a little and if the boy's Instagram told Peter anything, he knew a thing or two about photography. The flash went off a second after Harry warned them and Pepper immediately went to check if it was suitable for their photo album she started to put together a month after she adopted Peter and Harley. 

 

“Thank you, Harry.” She said, reaching to hug him again which the redhead recuperated. “I hope to see you again. Hopefully next time, he’ll bring Gwen with.” 

 

“What? Parker, you haven’t introduced Gwen yet? For shame.” Harry mockingly shook his head while Rhodey and Happy pipped with their own comments. Peter only rolled his eyes and hopefully he didn’t come off as too defensive. 

 

“Yeah, well, she’s busy… a lot, okay?” He said, shrugged. His ears were warm. “She does a lot.” 

 

“Okay, I do have to give you that one.” Harry nodded and relief flooded Peter. At least this way no one could tease him about potentially fibbing. Which he never does! Unless, like, Spider-Man is involved. “She’s been practically sprinting from the school to get to her ballet practice lately.” 

 

“She gets to try on her costume in a few weeks, she tells me they’re been making preparations for that and getting their props and backgrounds ready.” Peter added and immediately wished he didn’t because stares were back on him, raised eyebrows and smirks. “What? She speaks and I listen. Like any normal, decent human being.” 

 

“Okay, Pete.” Rhodey nodded and Peter wanted nothing more than to smash his face into his hands and zip into the sky which would lead him to space and then get blown up by a meteor. “Well, I say we celebrate this win on Friday instead of tonight. You kids have school tomorrow.” 

 

“Yes,” Harry clapped while Harley groaned, pointing at Peter. “And I got some extra info on that party, I’ll text you about it later.” And with that, Harry waved good-bye towards the group and walked off the field. 

 

“Party?” Pepper questioned and Peter cringed slightly. He hasn’t even thought to mention it to Pepper, much less ask if he could even go. This will be a fun conversation. 

Chapter 18

“You’re not wearing that, are you?” Gwen asked. Peter looked down at his outfit, definitely a more party look than one he’d normally wear to school but he thinks he looks fine. Khaki pants with white shoes and shirt, a light green coat, what’s wrong with his outfit? 

 

“Yeah?” He tried. 

 

“Peter, it’s a Halloween party.” Gwen stressed. “It’s in a few hours and you didn’t think to get a costume?” 

 

“How many will actually be dressing up?” If he knows anything about parties (based off his own limited experience and movies), everyone will want to look cool and costumes don’t really do the trick. 

 

“I hope everyone will be.” Gwen put her hands on her hips, shaking her head disappointingly. “Let’s go.” She grabbed her keys and wallet and tugged Peter out of her house. According to Gwen, Daphne was playing bingo with some of her friends and she won’t be back until later. “We can get you a cheap costume.” 

 

“Everything will be sold out.” He said, following her down the sidewalk. A Halloween store wasn’t too far from Gwen’s house, it’s apparently where she got some of the material for her own costume. Which she still hasn’t disclosed. 

 

“There’ll always be something.” She said, and before he knew it, they walked into the store and a tired looking teenager stood at the register. “We’ll be quick.” 

 

The store was practically barren, one or two costumes were hung for each character, decor was basically nonexistent, it was a ghost town of a store.

 

“I don’t even know what I’d be.” He really hasn’t put much thought into it, because why would he? He wasn’t going to go trick or treating, and he wasn’t planning to dress up for the party. So what was the point? 

 

Gwen looked over her shoulder and stared at him intently, and goosebumps decorated his skin at the eye contact she was giving him. “Spider-Man.” 

 

He swallowed, feeling his insides freeze and he zeroed in on her. “…what?” 

 

The way she said the name sounded more like she was addressing him instead of suggesting, and he had to stop himself from putting a hand over his heart. Does she know? He's been so careful, there’s no way she knows! Right? Oh, no—

 

“Be Spider-Man.” She said, gesturing towards a costume. He looked at it closely and it was just a very cheap knock off version of his own. The webbing looked too raised and the blue accents were darker than his, the spider on the chest looks like it’ll fall off with the slightest bit of movement. And there was no black lining or a cartridge belt. 

 

Worst of all…

 

He wouldn’t be properly covered. Down there. At all.

 

“Gwen, I’d need to wear pants with this.” He said, already cringing at the idea that he’d be… outlined. 

 

“You could borrow my sweatpants.” She offered, smiling cheekily as she ripped the costume packaging off the rack. “The ones you said you wanted to try on.” 

 

“Oh, the infinity sweatpants!” He recalled the ones she wore in September when he went to pick her up so they could do their physics project. “The blackhole one!” 

 

“Yes, yes, the blackhole one.” She mumbled and he snickered, greeting the cashier as he pulled out his wallet. She looked very happy in her witch costume. 

 

After Peter paid, he and Gwen exited the store and she skipped as he walked, keeping in step with one another. He found it interesting how she could keep from falling while she was wearing heeled converse. He’s certain that if he tried to even walk in those shoes, he’d have a hard time keeping himself standing. 

 

Once again, they made it back to Gwen’s house and she ordered him to go change in the bathroom while she found her sweatpants for him. He was lucky that he was wearing an undershirt wife beater today, it would make the cheap suit look a little better.

 

A quick knock at the bathroom door alerted Peter to Gwen standing right behind the wooden surface. “You can come in.” He said. He had yet to even begin undressing. 

 

The blonde opened the door with her sweatpants in her hand, and he was glad the sweatpants were already on the larger side. Whenever Gwen wore them, she tightened them until the strings were down to her knees. She says she likes how much leg room it gives her. 

 

“You can wear your converse, too.” She said, and that’s when he noticed that she was holding his shoes in her other hand. “You could be, like a… hobo Spider-Man.” 

 

“Oh, that’s funny, real funny.” He nodded, sarcasm heavy in his tongue while Gwen giggled, dropping his converse in the bathroom counter. “Will you tell me what you’re dressing up as?” 

 

“I only show, not tell.” She said coyly, turning on her heel and walking over to the door. “But I think you’ll like it.” 

 

He tilted his head to the side, his curiosity peaked higher than it was previously. Would she be a fairy? A movie character? He’d guess a ballerina but there’s no way she’d wear her shoes or tutu’s outside. “What makes you so sure?” 

 

“I’m not,” she shrugged, toying with the knob. “But I just have a good feeling.” 

 

Before he could open his mouth, she smiled and shut him in the bathroom once again, he could hear her run up the stairs as they were not only on the other side of the wall, but his super hearing as well. 

 

He took the cheap suit out of its packaging and let it unfold before him, the natural thin and a little scratchy feeling. He sighed, oh he was going to love this. 

 

He set the suit besides the shoes and sweatpants, taking his own sweatshirt and pants off, leaving him in only his tank and briefs. Socks too, of course. He isn’t a weirdo. 

 

Stepping into the costume was like being consumed by a hay bale. It took all his willpower to not rip the suit off him and throw it out the window. He even had a very distant thought to just wear his actual suit but he can’t risk that, plus Gwen would know the difference and she can’t know about his alter ego. 

 

Contorting his arms weirdly, he managed to zip the suit up himself and he looked at the mirror, and his eyes widened. His actual suit did a good job showing off his muscles and the skin tight material helped him while he was Spider-Man, whether it be swinging, fighting, or doing some sort of acrobatic move. But it also protected him, so the skin tight suit had layers and it made his physique less defined. 

 

But this suit was next level. The costume ended at his wrists and ankles, leaving his hands and feet bare and it was on the smaller side too, just because it was one of two sizes left so that meant it hugged his body. And not only was his lower half… erm, seen, but his upper half was too, even with the tank under the thin material.

 

Maybe Gwen has a big hoodie she’ll let me borrow? He thought but he knew it was hopeless. He wasn’t stupid, he knows that he’s grown a lot since… Thanos and… all that, but he can still dream! 

 

And his dream was telling him to give up because Gwen’s hoodies will be super stretched from his shoulders alone, forget about his arms. Speaking of which, he slowly observed his body in the mirror and slightly flexed, not wanting to tear the material. He still looks lean, and sure, muscle mass grew but otherwise he still looks pretty lithe. 

 

He dropped his arms and shook his head because that was kinda silly, reaching for the sweatpants. Jumping into them was easy and when he pulled them up to his hips, he gave a slight shake to his hips, feeling the way the fabric lightly hit his legs as it moved with him. It hugged his ankles the same way they do Gwen’s and he needs a pair of his own because holy shit, these are nice!

 

He dropped the shoes to the floor and easily tied them up, walked out of the bathroom and sat on the couch. He might as well respond to Harry’s texts while he waits for Gwen. 

 

HairyMan: You and Gwen get special invitations to the party

HairyMan: As in… wait for it…

HairyMan: EARLY ACCESS!!!!!!!!!!

 

Me: Do you just need help setting things up? 

 

HairyMan: I did not say that but since you offered…

 

Peter snorted, shaking his head, forwarding the text to Gwen. The party didn’t start till 7pm and if Peter just happened to be just a little faster than normal, he’s sure all three of them could finish setting things up in a timely manner. 

 

Another vibrate from his phone turned his attention back to it but this time he saw that it was from Gwen. He still finds her name in his phone to be ridiculous. One day she took his phone and renamed herself, and he doesn’t mind enough to change it back to what it was before. 

 

SweetG<3: Prepare to have your mind blown

SweetG<3: Coming down now

 

That’s when he heard her door open and he got up off the couch to meet her at the base of the stairs. He knows she put a lot of effort into making her costume, and he’s excited to see what it is. 

 

And that’s when he sees her. 

 

Her hair and makeup were done and he couldn’t help but think it looked perfect. It heightened her already beautiful features (he’s just being honest with himself! Nothing more than that, he swears!) but it was her outfit that made his mouth drop and cheeks get rosy. 

 

She’s wearing a high collar, long sleeved pink and white leotard, and it hugged her perfectly, showing off curves Peter hadn’t seen before. Her usual dance practice outfits kind of hid her shape, and he would never say it outloud but he’s a little disappointed he wouldn’t be the only one seeing it. 

 

Her hips and thighs were decorated with holsters, and two fake (at least, he thinks they’re fake, Gwen owns some strange things) katana swords were strapped to her back. Her calves were wearing matching pink and white padding with her light pink platform converse finished off her look. 

 

“Holy shit!” Peter said in astonishment, offering a hand to lead her down the stairs. He pulled her right in front of him and he tried not to touch anything more. “Gwen, this is incredible! You look incredible! You’re like a girl, bumble gum Deadpool!”

 

He hasn’t met the mercenary, but from what he’s heard from those who have, Deadpool is a wild wild card that says and does as he pleases. 

 

Peter prefers to call him a weirdo. 

 

“Thank you.” She beamed, giving a little twirl. “Some of this stuff I just had laying around and I thought it would work. Plus, I think Deadpool is funny.” 

 

“So I’ve heard.” Peter said, checking out her outfit again. And just her outfit. He wasn’t a pervert (no matter how much he wanted to focus on the thing that costume is hugging—Peter! Stop it!). 

 

“But look at you! I knew the costume would work.” Gwen circled him and he almost shivered when he felt her hands on his shoulders, slightly shaking him. “Where did these come from?” She laughed. “Your shoulders just suddenly broaden in the time it took for me to get ready?” 

 

“Wait—” He didn’t expect her to turn it around on him and the sudden compliment to his physique made his pink cheeks turn a dark shade. “That’s—I mean, what? Shoulders—?” 

 

Gwen suddenly burst out laughing, giving his shoulder a pat before she walked over to the front door, a silent invite for him to follow. “Relax, Pete.” She giggled. “You look very nice dressed up as Spider-Man.” 

 

He wasn’t sure why she said it the way she did, her eyes holding a light of knowledge that he found himself uneasy with. She knows something and Peter isn’t sure if he’s too stupid or stubborn to figure out if he already knows the answer. 

 

So instead, he smiles back at her and joins her by the door, finding that he has to lean down a little bit. He can smell her perfume and it wraps an invisible blanket around him. 

 

“You look very nice, too.” He said and felt a smidge of satisfaction at the way her eyes widened and her cheeks turned color, her plump lips parting in surprise. 

 

Point, Peter. 

 

---

 

“There you guys are, you took forever!” Harry exasperated, in the middle of pouring punch in a bowl. Harry had rented out a communal building that his father owned for this occasion and Peter looked around impressively, the decorations and lighting set up was good and the amount of speakers around the room was crazy. “Killer costumes.” 

 

“Thanks!” Gwen nodded and Peter knew she was still so proud of herself. As she should be, he can see just how much time she put into making it. “And yours is… fun.” 

 

Peter snorted while Harry threw the now empty punch bottle in the recycling, showing off his cop costume. It was basically a romper with its light brown fabric and he showed off his legs, white cowboy boots turning the whole costume around. Sunglasses resting on top of his hair and he chewed gum obnoxiously, making finger guns at the two of them. “Stick ‘em up.” 

 

“Awful accent, great fake mustache.” Peter commented, gesturing to the red hair that was sticking to Harry’s upper lip.  

 

Harry let out a shocked gasp and placed a hand over his fake golden badge, hurt playing on his features, his southern accent disappearing. “I can excuse accent dissing, but I draw the line at assuming my facial hair is fake. I grew this hair myself.”

 

“Yeah, maybe in your downstairs—” Peter shot back and Gwen made a squawk, while Harry burst out laughing, punching an equally laughing Peter in the shoulder. He didn’t mean to say it when Gwen could hear but it just spilled out of him. 

 

“Yeah, okay, you guys are disgusting.” Gwen honestly looked mixed between amused and grossed out, walking over to the concessions table where four bowls of punch sat, two unopened bottles of sprite beside her. “Can we please just hurry this up?” 

 

“Okay, Miss Deadpool.” Harry sighed, telling her that two bowls of punch will have the sprite and two will be without.

 

“Nah, come on dude,” it was so obvious, he’s surprised Harry hasn’t said it yet. “Gwenpool. Duh.”  

 

“Ooh…” Harry pointed at Peter like he just said something revolutionary and Peter only nodded because, yeah, he kind of did. “I get you.” 

 

“Both are lazy, pick a new hobby because naming things sure isn’t working for you guys.” Gwen said with an eye roll, stirring the sprite and punch combo together. 

 

“I think I’m good at naming things, or at least reciting things.” Peter defended himself, and he had to fight the cheeky grin from forming on his lips otherwise he’d give his intentions away and he didn’t want to spoil it for himself. “Like the elements table…” 

 

But Gwen could see right through him, and it didn’t help his case that Harry was already grinning like an idiot. It was contagious and Peter felt his lips begin to quiver with the strain to keep a neutral face. “Peter Parker, don’t you dare—”

 

“I periodically recite it.” He finished and Harry gave a loud, singular laugh, while Gwen groaned. 

 

“God…” she shook her head, and he could see her own smile trying to break through her faux annoyance. So he crept closer until he was right next to her, trying to make eye contact but she refused to look up. 

 

“You can laugh, Gweny, it was funny.” He laughed, bending down to get more in her bubble but the blonde was stubborn. 

 

“It was cheesy.” She countered, grabbing balloon packages and tossed one to Peter. “I could’ve done better.” 

 

“Prove it, Gwenpool.” Harry said from behind the two and when Peter turned around, he saw the redhead standing on a ladder as he threw party streamers through the rafters, adding some fake cobwebs and spiders to some areas. 

 

“Okay okay,” she giggled, and Peter watched with his full attention, idly tying an inflated balloon that she handed him. “You may not get this but Pete will.” She quickly blew up one more balloon and handed it to Peter. “Did you know that you can cool yourself to -273.15 degree Celsius and be 0k?”  

 

“You’re right, I don’t get it.” Harry sounded further away but Peter only chuckled, because, yeah, he did get it. “I thought we were making puns, not actual jokes.” 

 

“There’s more fun in jokes than puns, I think.” Gwen shrugged, blowing up another balloon. She tied it quickly before smacking it away from her. “Not that you would know too much about either.” 

 

“Hey!” Harry shouted and once more, sounded further away. His voice echoed. “I’ve told you, businessman in the making! Not a scientist!”

 

“Sorry!” Gwen yelled back at the same octave and Peter tried not to cringe at their yelling. He simply just shook his head and tried to act normal while he inflated more party balloons. “So, who’s all going to be here?” Gwen asked and her voice was much quieter and when he looked up, he saw that she was actively avoiding eye contact with him. 

 

“Eh, our school, surrounding schools… many schools.” Harry answered as he climbed down the ladder. “There’s just going to be a lot of people, and I kind of don’t want you guys in danger or anything,” he walked over to the table where the punch was and dug through his duffle bag. “So I bought these for us.” 

 

In Harry’s hand, there were three bracelets, each with a different color but they all had a pendant looking button in the middle. They didn’t look fancy or anything, but the white one had a crescent moon and star decal in the middle, the back and tan ones were plain. 

 

“Put these on for the night and if we need help of any sort or just want to make sure the other is okay, we press our button and it makes the other two vibrate.” Harry explained, taking the tan one pressed on its button, making the black and white one light up and vibrate. “Aren’t the colors cool?” He asked, his tan one had a green circle while the black had a blue one and the white was a magenta. “I customized them for us.” 

 

“Oh, that’s cool.” Peter said, grabbing the black one while Gwen grabbed the white. “We’re, like, officially a trio now.” He said and Gwen only rolled her eyes. “Thanks, man.” 

 

“Yeah, thank you, Harry.” Gwen smiled, twirling her bracelet a little. “It’s cute, and a very good idea.” 

 

“Just… watching out for you guys, I suppose.” Harry smiled awkwardly and Peter only nodded with his own smile. Harry quickly sniffed and brushed his nose with his knuckle, a new energy surrounding him that was different from his sincere one. “Put them on!” 

 

“Okay, okay.” Peter laughed and for some reason, he immediately turned towards Gwen, holding his hand out. She caught on quickly and handed her bracelet to him and presented her wrist to him. Neither of their costumes come with gloves and he saw the way her pink nails glinted in the lights and her hand was so pale he could see lines of blue under her soft skin. He’s held her hand before, but he hasn’t really studied them. They were dainty and smooth, her fingers long and her knuckles had the slightest pink tinge to them. They were cold. He gently clasped the white bracelet on and she smiled, twisting her wrist around to test its movement. “There you go.” 

 

“Thanks, Pete.” She in turn helped him out and she lightly scratched her nails along his palm and down his wrist and goosebumps raised on his skin. He wonders how it would feel to have her run her fingers through his hair like that... “You should wear bracelets more often.” 

 

“Should I?” He hasn’t really thought to, jewelry wasn’t really his thing. Especially with having to put on his suit, it was just another thing to take off and on and it would be kind of annoying. “I don’t really have any.” Like, none at all. 

 

Just as Gwen opened her mouth, Harry suddenly waved a hand between them and Peter was embarrassed to admit that he completely forgot that Harry was around. “Hey, hi, hello, I need help getting mine on.” 

 

It was like a trance was broken and Gwen rolled her eyes, a playful scoff falling from her lips but she turned to help Harry put his bracelet on, not taking her time like she did with Peter. “There.”

 

“Oh, hell yeah!” Harry pumped his fist out and waited, looking between Peter and Gwen excitedly. “We’re like the Power Rangers.” 

 

“I never really watched Power Rangers.” Gwen said and both Harry and Peter gasped, the redhead backing up quickly away from Gwen, knocking into Peter. “What? I watched more Disney Channel growing up.” 

 

“You seem like the type.” Harry mumbled and let out a tiny scream when Gwen reached to smack him. 

 

“I had the DVD of the 90’s series.” Peter said, seeing Harry nod. It was one of the very clear memories he has of his father, handing him a DVD case that had all three seasons of the 90’s Power Rangers series. He remembers watching the DVD a lot. His father was nice to him, but he wasn’t always kind so memories like that were always held dear to him. “I didn’t really watch the series that Nickelodeon released.” 

 

“Oh, I did.” Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “No shame.” 

 

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Gwen waved her hand in the air and put her hands on her hips. “How can we press our buttons for help? Hold the button when we’re in trouble but tap twice if we’re just checking in?” 

 

“Sure, we can do that.” Harry nodded, digging through his duffle bag and pulled out his phone. “DJ should be here soon to set up his equipment, caterers are already in the back fixing up more drinks and snacks, decorations and fog machines are all good to go, lighting is as well.” He put his phone down and smiled at Peter and Gwen. “This party will be rockin’, I swear.” 

 

“Party rockers in the house tonight, everybody just have a good time—”

 

“Sing it, Pete!” 

 

---

 

He doesn’t remember too much about how he got in the middle of the dance floor, he just knows he’s having a blast. 

 

This is so much better than Liz’s party. 

 

Students around him, high school and college, danced and drank, cheered and sang. He’s had several girls and a few guys touch and try to dance with him, but he’s just so lost in his buzz and the music that he doesn't even care. 

 

He even grabbed one girl and started to spin her, the pair laughing as he dipped her into the crowd and she disappeared, himself moving from dance partner to dance partner until he reached the last ring of bodies, trying to get to the refreshment table. 

 

“Hey, Peter!” He heard and he looked to his left to see Abe and Cindy standing by a table filled with drinks and Jell-O shots. “Awesome costume, I didn’t realize you worked out.” Abe said. 

 

Peter stumbled over to them and he was panting, his smile seemed to be contagious because the other two started to smile as well. “I do have my s-secrets.” 

 

Did he just slur? Probably, he can’t find it in himself to care. He’s having so much fun and he didn’t feel his bracelet vibrate at all so the others must be enjoying themselves too. He reached between Cindy and Abe to take a Jell-O shot and he might’ve stumbled. 

 

“You guys look awesome!” He yelled over the music, pointing at Abe and Cindy. The girl happened to be Tinkerbelle and the boy was a pirate that seemed to have been in battle because his costume was torn and had fake blood on it. “Like, really really awesome!” 

 

“How much have you had to drink?” Cindy asked with an amused smirk, eyebrow raising. 

 

Peter blew a raspberry, trying to throw the plastic shot into a trash bag but he missed. Oops. “Not as much—as you think but certainly as-as much as I can.” 

 

“Get some water, Pete.” Cindy said as she walked away, rolling her eyes. 

 

“What are you, my mother?” He asked with a laugh and Abe giggled along with him. The boys stumbled a bit but Peter found that concept to be so funny. “Wait-wait no, no,” he laughed. “She’s a cop?” 

 

“Don’t tell you nothin’!” Abe laughed, slamming a hand on the table. “Wait, I mean, don’t tell her nothin’!” 

 

“I never do!” Peter wheezed out, his stomach began to hurt and he hoped it was just from laughing too hard. Can’t throw up at Harry’s party, that would be awful. Puking is awful. 

 

“Well well,” came a sultry voice behind Peter and he wiped his tears, trying to stifle his giggles as he came face to face with the cashier from Soothey Smoothie. What was her name again? “Didn’t take you for the drinking type.” 

 

He looked her up and down and saw that she was adored in a skin tight kitty costume, her cat ear headband holding her platinum hair back from her face. That's how girls are supposed to wear a headband! 

 

“I like your headband.” He pointed and he tried not to hit her accidently. “You should talk to my friend Gwen, I think she needs tips.” Her headbands never held her bangs back, and he’s never asked her about it. Maybe he should now! “I have to find Gwen, she’d-she’d appreciate it.” 

 

“You’re not going anywhere, Spider-Man, I finally got you all to myself.” The girl quickly grabbed his wrist and in his drunken stupor, he stumbled right on into her, his front pressed against hers. “I was hoping I’d run into you again.” 

 

What is her name? He could only stare down into her eyes and he tried to rake his brain for that sort of information. Fiona? Finley? Felicity? 

 

Then it clicked. “Oh, Felicia!” He smiled and bent down to hug her. Oh it’s been so long since he’s last seen her. He hugged her tightly, rocking the both of them back and forth, the music loud and the lights flashing around them. It made it a little hard to see her. “Are you enjoying the party?” 

 

“I’d enjoy it a little bit more if I was with you.” Felicia batted her eyelashes and grazed her sharp nails along his arm, over his sleeve. A shiver ran down his spine and while it had the same effect, it didn’t feel as nice as it did with Gwen. “Your name is Peter, right?” 

 

“Yeah, uh, Peter Parker.” He nodded, and he suddenly had the very uncomfortable feeling that he was sobering up. This situation didn’t feel as awkward while he was entirely under the influence. “Look, uh—”

 

“Wanna do a shot with me?” She blurted and a smile widely grazed her pretty features. “I saw the way you were knocking them back earlier, what do you say to a challenge?”

 

“That sounds like fun but I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” He said, starting to back away but her grip on his arm held firm. “I mean, I don’t really know you—”

 

“Felicia Hardy, I’m seventeen and a junior at Xavier. I’m on the dance team and I work part time at Soothey Smoothie to pay for my kitty at my parents house.” She tilted her head and once more batted her eyelashes and Peter felt his resolve fumbling. “See? Now you know me.” And gave his arm a squeeze and took a step towards him. He didn’t move this time. “So why don’t we have fun?”

 

He couldn’t argue with that, especially when the alcohol was clouding his judgment and the idea of more fun was just too inviting. He smiled and she led the way to the table where a kid in Peter’s class was monitoring it. 

 

Harry didn’t want anyone to get drugged and Peter commended him for that. 

 

Travis (he was in Peter’s math class) watched as he and Felicia both took shots after shots. Peter smiled and tried not to laugh when Felicia started to act silly. After their fifth shot, Felicia was more touchy than before and Peter couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

 

He's never felt better. 

 

All these months of pain and self torture just washed off of him and all he wanted to do was dance until his feet fell off and be surrounded by others who felt the same way. All his responsibilities, all his worries, all his issues with himself was put on pause as he pressed play into the enrapture of a great, fun time. 

 

He pulled Felicia into the crowd of dancing bodies and they once again stood with their fronts pressed against each other. Felicia looked just as lost in the music as he felt and she dragged her hands from his shoulders down to his hands and pressed them to her waist as she lifted her arms in the air and just danced with the beat. 

 

He tried his best to match her foot movements and he didn’t realize just how much time went on for. He pressed his forehead into Felicia’s at one point and they continued to closely dance, slightly sweating and panting. He didn’t think they looked inapt or sensual but he didn’t think anyone around them would even care. 

 

Felicia dropped her arms and once again rested her hands on his shoulders and brought him even closer than he already was. It was then that he felt a brush of her hip against him that sent a bolt of electricity through his veining and he dropped his mouth open. 

 

Did she just…?

 

Her cocky smirk told him exactly what he needed to know and when she did it again, his hands on her waist tightened. She moved to the beat of the music but in turn, she moved her body against his and it felt good. 

 

“Felicia,” he gasped as she grinded against him, the blonde spinning in his hold to press her rear against him, the rubbing against him much more intense. “Wha-what are you doing?” 

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” She teased and turned to look back at him, resting the back of her head on his shoulder and she grabbed his wrists to bring his hands around to her stomach, his palms laying flat. “Do you want me to stop?” 

 

He quickly shook his head and had to stop himself from moving with her. Many people around them were dancing the same way they are, but he can’t make it obvious that anything more than just a dance is happening. “No,” he breathed, pressing his cheek to the side of her head as she moved. “I don’t.” 

 

She once again spun around and pressed her forehead to his. His eyes were closed but he could tell she was intently staring at him, and the fainted brush against his lips made his chest explode. 

 

That’s when he opened his eyes and through the purple and blue lights, the fog machine, and the other party goers, all he could see was her eyes. 

 

Her blue eyes. 

 

Wait, what? 

 

He blinked and moved his head back a bit too fast, his movements stopping as he stared down Felicia who was looking at him confusedly with green eyes. Looking further down, he saw that his bracelet was lighting up and it reflected off of Felicia’s eyes. A soft blue compared to the harsh lighting around them. It buzzed twice and he was almost wanting to ignore it, it was just a check in after all, no one was in danger. But his spidey sense became a little louder and that’s when he looked up and saw a golden haired girl with blue eyes that reminded him of oceans, standing in her homemade Deadpool costume, looking at him with a heartbroken expression. 

 

He could only stare, frozen in his spot. Oh, no…

 

It was like the liquor completely evaporated off him because he was incredibly so aware of what he was doing, the position he and Felicia are in, and Gwen’s eyes staring so intently into his own.

 

Felicia must’ve followed his eyesight because he felt her cling to him tighter, pressing the side of her head into his chest. “Who’s she?” 

 

But he couldn’t find his voice or the courage to move. The music and bass suddenly disappeared along with everyone else, all he could hear was his blood rushing in his ears. It was just him and Gwen and he could hear her heart pounding, the way her breathing was loud but uneven, her lips had the slightest quiver to them. 

 

This is not good. 

 

It’s not like he hasn’t caught onto the fact that she seemed to like him. When she asked him on that date (that Harry unknowingly third-wheeled to) and held his hand, the lip bites, her watching him when she thought he didn’t notice, the touches that seemed to linger and the way her eyes softened. 

 

It was at this moment that Peter realized that he liked her, and she just witnessed him dancing and being felt up by a girl he doesn’t even really know. She witnessed him liking it. This is so not good.

 

He doesn’t like Felicia, not like how he likes Gwen, but the alcohol and atmosphere clouded his logic and he willingly just fell into the cat’s trap. 

 

It was when she turned on her heel did Peter drop back down into his body and shame came with him. He had to catch up with her, he had to talk to her. He took his hands off Felicia and tried to run after Gwen, but the girl gripped his wrist. “Where are you going, I thought we were having fun.” 

 

“I have to go.” He said, tapping just a little bit into his strength and wretched his arm out of Felicia’s grasp and rushed to get out of the throng of intoxicated people. He could see her hair and costume rushing to a door that would lead them into a hallway where many side rooms were. One of them was where Harry said they could keep their stuff. 

 

It also led to one of the many exits this event center had. 

 

He shimmied through people like nothing, dodging shoulders or feet, walking to the loud beat of the music and trying to not make the flashing lights lose his sights on Gwen. He was so close to Gwen now, he just had to walk a little fast and he could reach out to grab her shoulder. 

 

But she reached a door first and burst it open and swung it shut just as hard, it almost slammed Peter in the face. But he didn’t falter, rushing through the door. A few people were mingling in the hall but he didn’t care about them right now.

 

“Gwen!” He called, jogging towards her now that there was no one blocking his path. “Gwen, hey! Please, wait! I can explain—”

 

“You don’t have to explain.” She interrupted, her voice holding an air of calmness that he didn’t like, it was like a monster waiting for the right time to attack. “Go back and have fun with her.” 

 

“It’s not what it looked like—”

 

“Really?” She stomped as she turned around to face him, and he had never seen this look on her before, not even when Harry would annoy her to death. He closed his mouth as she glared, and he knew that no matter what he said, he'd never be able to convince her otherwise of what she saw. “Because it looked like you both were getting all friendly with each other. Don’t stand there and lie to me.”  

 

Peter felt his shoulders drop in defeat, already knowing there was nothing else he could do but apologize. It was all he wanted to do. That, and take back the last half hour. “I—”

 

“Are you his girlfriend?” A new voice behind him asked and Gwen’s sharp eyes immediately set their targets on Felicia as the cat girl walked closer. He winced, he does so not need Felicia to be here for this.

 

“She’s—”

 

“No.” Gwen interrupted him, never once taking her eyes off Felicia. “I’m not. So you two go back and have fun.” He reached out to grab her wrist, the one with the bracelet he put on her earlier, but she yanked it out of his grasp. “Don’t.” 

 

“Gwen, please—”

 

Once more, he was cut off but this time by nothing more than a heartbroken glare and he shut his mouth, his shoulders dropped even lower somehow and he could only stare at her. He was at a loss for words but wanted to rattle on a mile a minute at the same time. His heart was pounding and his hands started to twitch harder than they have in a while. This whole night turned out to be not what he was expecting at all, and he was… scared.

 

Scared of losing her. 

 

But he never truly had her, did he? 

 

“Let’s go back,” Felicia spoke from behind him and Gwen rolled her eyes, storming into the side room and slamming the door behind her. Peter flinched at the noise but not because of how loud it was, but because he knew her slam was directed towards him. “We can still have fun.” 

 

He frowned and turned to stare at Felicia because is she serious right now? “No, Felicia, I don’t want to go back to the party, I don’t care about the party.” 

 

“But,” she began, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes again. “I thought we were having a good time?” 

 

“Well it’s over,” he said, getting ready to go after Gwen again. “Please just let me talk to her.” 

 

“Really? Her?” Felicia just scoffed and started to inch closer to the door that would lead her back into the party. “Alright, if that’s what you want to spend your time doing, be my guest.” And she left. 

 

Peter could only sigh and rub the bridge of his nose, jumping just the slightest bit when he heard someone groan. He forgot there were other people in the hallway and the shame and embarrassment from what Gwen saw totally made this seem like an ant in comparison. The groan came from a random student dressed as a gladiator and he stared at Peter disapprovingly. 

 

“Dude,” he said, shaking his head. “You fumbled two baddies.” 

 

“Could’ve had them both.” His friend said, dressed as a cowboy. “Absolute blow, man.” 

 

“I don’t want both of them.” Peter said, hand on the handle to the side room. “Just her.” And he pushed through, ignoring the two guys as he shut the door behind him. Gwen looked up from where she was putting her jacket on. No smile graced her lips like they usually would when she saw him. Would she ever smile at him like that again? 

 

This side room was more of a mini conference room, with ugly light blue paint and very outdated furniture and decor, the lights weren’t very flattering either. It vaguely reminded Peter of the lights in the nurse's office at school. 

 

“What?” She zipped up her jacket and fumbled with her phone, reaching her other hand to grab her own duffle bag she brought with. 

 

“Can I please talk to you?” He asked, twisting his shaking fingers around one another. He was so nervous, but he was ready for anything at all she could throw at him. He stood up straight and hoped his eyes spoke to Gwen, because hers sure did speak to him. 

 

Anger was the biggest thing he saw in her eyes, disappointment, sadness, and conflict. 

 

He didn’t speak again, waiting for her to. He didn’t want to risk Gwen fully shutting him down. So he stood still and she did too, folding her arms over her chest and popping out her hip. Oh, she’s stubborn. Neither of them made the move to speak and he wasn’t about to without her permission. 

 

Finally, Gwen sighed, lifting her duffle bag on her shoulder. “Peter, there’s nothing to talk about. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation. You are single and you were just having fun with a girl.”

 

“But that’s the thing!” He said a little too enthusiastically like he had an eureka moment, taking a step towards her. “I do owe you an explanation. I… I know that you have — or maybe did have — feelings for me,” he saw that her eyes widened a fraction and her body tensed. “And I’ve been drinking and not thinking clearly, and I just—”

 

“Wait, wait,” Gwen raised her hand, and Peter shut his mouth with a teeth clank. “H-how long have you known?”

 

“…since we went to the movies.” He said truthfully and Gwen seemed to deflate even more. “B-but I didn’t really think about it until recently! Like, today! A-and I like you too! Like, really like you.” 

 

“You,” Gwen began, her voice small and her reaction was one Peter didn’t expect, he felt himself deflate. “Knew? And you still did—” She released a shaky breath and Peter’s heart constricted when he saw that she had tears glistening her blue eyes. “I can’t believe you.” 

 

“Well—wait, Gwen, that’s not it—that’s not what I meant.” He fumbled with his words as she tried to leave the room, and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop her. He followed her out of the room and ignored the small comments some random students shot their way as Gwen punched through the exit door. 

 

The chill covered Peter like a blanket immediately but he didn’t care, still hot on Gwen’s heels. “Please, Gwen, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

 

“You know,” Gwen came to a sudden halt and Peter almost ran into her. “You can keep repeating that, and I’ll still walk away.” Oh no… please no… “I don’t want to hear anything anymore, Peter.” Her voice turned softer, almost tired like and he hates that it's because of him. “Just… leave me alone.” 

 

He could only watch as she turned on her heel and disappeared into the bustling crowd of those out-and-about, enjoying their Halloween night. He’s not sure what tomorrow will bring, November is less than two hours away. Will she pretend nothing happened? Like they did with their almost kiss? Like they did when they held hands in the theater? Will she ignore him? Will she confront him again and give him the chance to explain (he’s not too sure if he should even explain anymore, it sounds more like excuses to him)? He’s not sure if he likes any of those options. 

 

A particularly intense wind blow knocked Peter out of his thoughts and he slowly turned back towards the building where the party was still going strong, he’s not sure what to do. Go after her, even if she told him to leave her alone? Give her space? He’s afraid that too much space will cause them to drift apart, and it scares him to even think of that life without Gwen. But has he already entered into that universe?

 

A sudden bang caused Peter to look up and saw Harry speed walk out of the building, his fake mustache still holding strongly to his face and his sunglasses were propped up on his head. “Hey,” Harry said a little too loudly, and even from several feet away, Peter could smell the alcohol reek off the red head. Has Peter been smelling that the entire time? “I heard from people that Spider-Man and Deadpool were fighting, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Peter wasn’t even close to ready to have this conversation with an obviously drunk Harry. He just wanted to go home. “Don’t worry about it.” At the start of Harry’s protests, Peter interrupted. “Look man, I think I’m just going to head home.”

 

“What? But, it’s still Halloweenier!” Harry raised his hand that was holding a solo cup, gesturing at the Halloween decorations. “Girly-girl troubles can wait till morning, let's go back inside and just keep having fun!”

 

“No, Harry,” Peter started to walk back to the doors, Harry’s squawking following in after him. “I can’t go back to have fun knowing that I hurt Gwen.”

“You hurt Gweny? How?” Harry asked, shutting the door to the side room that still held his and Peter’s stuff, his hand sliding along the wood. “Come on, tell me!”

 

“Maybe when you sober up.” Peter said, tugging on his jacket. He dug out his phone and wallet, seeing a bunch of texts from literally everyone, Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, Harley, a few drunk texts from his friends and classmates that either have his number or socials. “Stay safe, man.” 

 

Harry only grumbled and the two walked out of the room together, the rich kid heading back into the party where Peter heard cheers for his arrival. The students that were in the hall from earlier were still standing there, still giving him looks of disappointment. 

 

He could only sigh and he walked back outside, warmer than before. He found his car fairly quickly and as soon as he sat down, he could only stare at the wheel as his thoughts once again consumed him. 

 

He really messed up. Messed up any chance he could’ve had with Gwen, messed up his already wonderful friendship with her. Messed up his own night out by being stupid and irresponsible, something he was loving the idea of not even an hour ago. 

 

He ran his hand through his hair and looked up, his car was parked in front of a busy street and he saw other people in costumes and having fun, cars doing what they usually do in this city; driving. Little kids walked with parents and teens running around with friends, adults stumbling out of a very popular bar across the street. 

 

Everyone else was living their normal lives, they had no idea that Spider-Man made a mistake. Maybe not a fatal one, but it didn’t hurt any less than one. It didn’t hurt someone any less. 

 

“God—I’m so stupid.” Peter cringed, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, groaning as he did. He has to call her — or text! He’s pretty sure she won’t answer if he calls. But he has to make it up to her, but how can he? He’s truthfully never been in this situation before, what do people usually do? 

 

He could get her some flowers? Or maybe do something a little more… personal. Or both! He’s really not sure.

 

Some drunken shouting from the bar made Peter realize that he really just needs to focus on getting home now, he can think about this later tonight. School was tomorrow (Harry was insistent that his party be on Halloween and not the weekend after) and Peter’s willing to bet that more than half of his classmates may bail school the rest of the week. 

 

He has no excuse, he feels perfectly sober and Pepper would know he was lying if he claimed to be… unwell.

 

He slowly turned his car on and made his way out of the city, the usual music was absent and all he saw was the road in front of him and all he heard was his own mind running faster than ever before.

 

---

 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, come line up!” Madame Odine instructed the ballerinas, Gwen walking to the ballet bar with everyone else, her toes pointed as Madame Odine prefers. “We are now counting down the days to our production date, which means we will now start officially practicing with our costumes and props.” 

 

Giddiness rose in Gwen’s chest at the idea of actually dancing in that super beautiful Sugar Plum Fairy costume. The final touches were completed some time last week and Gwen’s been itching to put it back on. The glitter and gemstones infused with the light to dark pink fabrics, the purples blending in nicely at the bottom of the tutu, the gold accents, the beautiful corset. Don’t even get her started on the head piece and golden arm bands that travel from her biceps to her wrists. 

 

Besides her, Lina (a new friend Gwen made back in September) bounced on her feet in excitement. She was casted as Clara and Gwen couldn’t be more happy for her. Madame Odine quickly reprimanded Lina for bouncing on her toes before continuing her speech. 

 

“This is so exciting, I’m so nervous.” Janessa whispered, her hands clenched together in an attempt to keep them still. Gwen smiled in agreement but didn’t dare to whisper back, she didn’t need Madame Odine calling her out too.

 

This was a very nice way to end her… frustrating week. She avoided Peter all day yesterday and today, even in classes they had together. Unfortunately she couldn’t move seats seeing as no one else wanted to, but she could pretend he doesn’t exist. 

 

Was it petty of her? Maybe. 

 

But if he knew the truth for so long, and realized that he liked her back, and still did what he did, then Gwen thinks a little space from him is okay. 

 

Don’t get her wrong, she doesn’t plan to drop the friendship, she won’t be rude or uncouth to him. She’ll play nice if she has to, but she won’t go out of her way to be with him. At least, not right now. She needs time to think and to let what happened the other night wash off her. Was it pettiness or self care? 

 

Harry wasn’t much help, seems like he was forced to go to school and he looked worse for wear even two days after Halloween. In history class, he didn’t bother her once and when she turned around at the end of class, she saw that head was practically glued to the desk. She felt nice enough to nudge him awake before she and Cindy walked to gym class, the raven haired girl stayed sober at the party and Gwen was thankful for that. Not only that but Sally was there too, she hadn’t been too drunk Halloween night and it was nice for Gwen to get to know Sally a bit more.

 

Between Harry’s obvious two day hangover and tension between her and Peter, she was glad to have one friend (maybe two now?) around to lean on.

 

Then physics popped up, and Harry was back to napville and Gwen kept her mouth shut, even when Peter tried to speak to her. Most she did was a tight lipped smile and a nod. She felt bad when she saw Peter lose confidence in his attempts but she still wasn’t ready to speak with him. Not fully, at least. 

 

And that leads her to ballet class, getting there earlier than normal. She quickly changed into her training tutu and leotard, slipping on a newer pair of ballet flats she got recently. She only used her mothers when it’s just her dancing in her own spare time. 

 

Madame Odine would surely have a heart attack if she saw the condition those teal flats were in. 

 

“Alright, everyone, go change and meet me back here! Do not put on makeup or do your hair, it’s a waste of our precious time!” Madame Odine clapped and Gwen didn’t need to be told twice to change, practically running to the costume department. 

 

“Oh, I’ve missed this.” Janessa said, gently hugging her costume to her cheek as everyone entered the room where the costumes were hung up. Instead of being the Sugar Plum Fairy, she was casted as the Snow Queen, the light blue and near silver fabric complimented her dark hair and skin wonderfully. “I just want to take it home with me.” 

 

“I do too.” Gwen mumbled, gently petting the tutu. She wishes it was possible to take the costumes home after the production is completed but Madame Odine would not agree to that. Each time the production is done, costumes are remade and they’re typically flashier and… well, better than the last. 

 

But that doesn’t mean the past costumes can go to whoever was casted to wear them. 

 

“Hurry up, don’t dilly dally.” Odine’s sharp French accent cut through the excited chatter of ballet students and Gwen rushed to take her dress off the rack. Entering a stall, the tights and shoes swinging into her legs as she walked, she wasted no time and slipped them on. Once done, she threw the curtain open and redid her bun, having come loose as she changed. She smiled at her reflection in the grand mirror, poofing her skirt before Janessa exited her own stall wearing her costume and practically dragged Gwen back to the main stage where all performances were. 

 

“You look great.” She whispered to the darker haired girl and Janessa beamed, returning the compliment as she did a playful twirl in the blue and silver dress. The two walked through a dimly lit hallway before they were backstage, walking into the spotlight. 

 

“You both look so beautiful!” Gwen heard Lina squeal before she saw the girl, and Lina ran over to them and looked over their costumes. Gwen noticed that she was in Clara’s first scene outfit, a dress she’d be wearing to the party and where she’d be gifted the nutcracker. It was a short maroon dress that had minimal accents that looked like it belonged in some era from the 1800’s. “This is so itchy, I cannot wait to change into that nightgown.” 

 

“Being uncomfortable makes a great dancer, Angelina.” Odine said as she swiftly passed behind the dark haired girl and Gwen had to stifle her laughter at the panicked squeak Lina let out. Odine then clapped her hands to grab everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen! Let us begin! We will start off the scene where Clara and Fritz are decorating the tree with their parents talking to their servants. Those that will not be in this act, please take a seat in the audience section. Lloyd, play the track!” She yelled up at the sound booth. 

 

Gwen, Janessa, and others walked down the side stairs and Gwen watched as Lina and a boy a couple years younger than them approached the huge tree that rested on the stage. They began to “unload” ornaments from their boxes and pretended to speak to one another as the music started to play. She noticed that while Lina actually looked like she was saying tangible words, the boy just looked like a puppet someone is fooling around with. Janessa elbowed her in the arm and Gwen wondered if Odine would say anything.

 

“Bryce,” Gwen is a fortune teller. “At least pretend you're actually saying words and not rolling mashed potatoes around in your mouth.” Odine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Bryce’s cheeks grow red but Gwen notices that the boy does improve his movements. “Wonderful. Enter the parents,” Odine instructs and Gwen sees two classmates enter the stage, Ellie and Alex. “Servants, follow in and start cleaning.” 

 

More of her classmates entered the scene and while it was fun watching them dance and act, Gwen was already feeling antsy. The Sugar Plum Fairy was one of the main roles but she didn't appear for a long while, and neither does the Snow Queen. She wonders if Madame Odine will let her and Janessa do their own thing before they have to perform. Gwen could use that time to do homework, after all. 

 

“Pretend the guests have arrived!” Everyone on stage all looked to their left, like a doorbell went off. “Guests, enter and servants leave. Lloyd, track two!” 

 

Gwen watches the servants scurry off the stage and Ellie and Alex greet their guests while Lina and Bryce watch near the tree, a new song coming on as the guests all dance around and Ellie “scolds” Lina and Bryce, ushering them off stage and the two race away. “Perfect, Ellie, wonderful! Survants, come back but with champagne.” The servants twirl on stage with their platters that held champagne glasses, offering to the guests and twirl off stage as the guests each have a glass in their hand. “Lloyd, track three! Guests, parents, start the opening dance!” 

 

Gwen admittedly zoned out a lot of the rehearsal, she had no need to pay dedicated attention to the beginning of the play as her cue isn't until the second act. It was when it was time for Uncle Drosselmeyer (who had arrived late to the party and was played by a boy a year older than Gwen) to unleash the toys for all the children after his magic tricks, two more of her classmates entered the stage, being held by some servants as they were stiff as boards. Jonathan and Lily were casted as the clown dolls that were to give the children entertainment, it was another trick Uncle Drosselmeyer has planned. This was always her favorite scene of act one, no matter what she was doing, she always made sure to watch this part.

 

Jonathan and Lily were placed on the stage, their legs and arms not having moved even as they were carried. Gwen had to admit that it was impressive, it must be hard to maintain a pose like that when carried from an awkward hold. Uncle Drosselmeyer twirled around them and glitter flung from his hands which was the cue Jonathan and Lily needed to begin their own dance. 

 

Gwen watched as Jonathan began his dancing first while the glitter was still catching up to Lily. Jonathan and Lily began to dance together but just as their dance was coming to an end, all the younger boys and girls that were assigned the role of guests, excitedly watching as Jonathan’s “magic” ran out first, leaving Lily prancing around as her final moments approached. Drosselmeyer begins to chase her and Gwen begins to laugh along with Janessa as Lily makes it as comical as she can by jetéing around quickly.

 

But all too soon, the good mood quickly turned sour as the last jeté that Lily had before Drosselmeyer was to catch her as she turns doll like again as the “magic” finally leaves her, her footing wasn't as solid as any ballerina’s needs to be and Gwen watched as Lily’s ankle snapped through her skin and her shriek was louder than Lloyd could ever make the music be. All at once, Odine rushed the stage as others backed away, Lloyd up in the booth cut the music and all the lighting turned back on. Gwen winced at the pained cries Lily let out and Madame Odine had a firm grip on her ankle and blood built up under the grip and dripped onto the stage. 

 

Not the first time a ballerina had a big injury but Gwen does sympathize. She snapped her knee one time when she was thirteen during a production and she had to sit out, watching the rest of the show from behind the curtain while her parents and brothers sat in the audience and she just didn’t understand why they stayed till the end. She still can’t. 

 

“Did you call her parents, Lloyd?” Gwen heard Odine ask as those three were the only ones left on the stage, everyone else began to stand where Gwen and the others sat in the audience's chairs, watching. 

 

Gwen could see the makeup rolling off of Lily’s face and dripping onto her costume. Gwen felt her stomach roll in loopty-loops and hills, broken bones and blood always made her queasy. Not a very good thing with the way New York is a constant target for explosions and destruction, but Gwen’s always loved seeing the irony in life no matter how unfortunate.

 

“Yes, I called the paramedics as well.” Lloyd nodded as he knelt beside them. 

 

Gwen was at a loss for what to do next. Knowing Madame Odine, she’d probably tell them to move on from that poor display of luck that Lily had and to continue on with the scene. It was basically over anyways. But Janessa didn’t help Gwen’s train of thought (she’s honestly not even sure if there was a train to begin with) as the dark haired girl grabbed Gwen’s arm. “What should we do?” 

 

Hell if I know, but Gwen could only shrug. Maybe she could move everyone to the dance studio they had in the building, it was where they rehearsed long before they even looked at the stage. She voiced her suggestion to Janessa and the Snow Queen liked that idea but they were going to need a little more help moving everyone out and to the rehearsal room. Gwen spotted Lina next to Bryce, a worried quirk to her eyebrows as she watched Lily dry her cheeks. Gwen quickly made her way over and told Bryce to gather his friends in the rehearsal room, to which the boy quickly did so. 

 

“Think Odine will send us home early?” Lina asked when it was just her and Gwen and the blonde could only shrug once again. She thinks it would be nice but she will never make a call like that, Odine is vicious even when she's happy. Honestly, she keeps Gwen on her toes (figuratively speaking, of course… sometimes). 

 

“Just spread the message, okay?” At Lina’s nod, Gwen left her side and began directing the younger students to the rehearsal room. Less of a chance for anyone to get in the way. Her dress bounced with each step she took but she couldn't marvel at it (no matter how much she wanted to), that can be done on a different day. 

 

As she made her way through the small mass of students, she accidentally knocked shoulders with Weasley, a boy that was in the same grade as Uncle Drosselmeyer. He started the same year Gwen did, and he remained to be one of the only students that has stayed with her all these years, everyone else that came in at the same time had either left or been Dusted. He was always kind to her and she never felt the need to do anything besides return it back to him. 

 

“Sorry, Weasley,” she smiled, automatically placing a hand on his arm that she shouldered. “Didn’t see ya.”

“Eh, your shoulders ain't that boney.” He quipped and Gwen only rolled her eyes at his teasing, a smile on her lips that matched his. “Whatcha up to, Goldie?”

Ignoring his nickname for her, she asked if he could help her get some more students into the rehearsal room so Lily, Odine, and maybe Lloyd can have space for the paramedics to do as they need. After getting his confirmation, she once again took to instructing those to follow others out. It wasn't long until she was the last one in there, standing near the doors while Lily stared at her ankle like it had a mind of its own and it betrayed her on its own whim, her face blank but her makeup left no lies of her tears. 

 

Moving her eyes, she stared at the backdrop and all those empty chairs, facing the stage she’ll be performing on in just a month and a few weeks, all those eyes on her once again like a coat. It’s something she’s experienced since she was just five years old, each production being performed for at least three weeks, three productions in a year. She grew up on this stage, as had many before and after her. 

 

Would Peter still come? 

 

Her eyes dropped to her feet, her pointe shoes less than visible with the poof of her tutu. Would he still show up? She likes to think he will, the show isn't until December and she hopes that by then this situation between them will all just be… forgotten. But… what if it's forgotten because they never make amends? She bites her lip and slowly turns to exit through the doors, back in a hallway that is more familiar to her than her grandma's house, finding the rehearsal room with ease. 

 

Everyone was chatting amongst themselves and friends, all in their own groups when Gwen entered. Some sitting on the floor, some in chairs, and others just standing around. Gwen easily spotted Janessa and Lina in the corner, their bags strung on their shoulders and Gwen realized with a start that hers was still in the costume department, where she dropped it after changing into her Sugar Plum Fairy dress. This wasn't the first time she’s left it in that room and it probably won't be the last. She quickly turned on her heels but was once again met with Weasley, who was holding it out for her with a smirk. 

 

“Forget something?” He passed the pink bag to her and she thanked him in return, slinging it over her back. “What, is this the fifteenth time this year that you’ve lost your bag?”

“It’s never lost, just misplaced.” She argued, and fifteen was a gracious exaggeration (she’s not too confident about that, though).

 

“Some could say that qualifies as lost.” She only shakes her head as he chuckles and she finally realizes just how much taller he is compared to her. She supposes he’s around Peter’s height and they technically have the same hair color, just that Weasley’s hair is slightly lighter and he doesn’t share the same cute sleep bags under his eyes that Peter has and Weasley doesn't have those honey brown eyes that Gwen can stare in for an endless amount of time and—

 

She has to snap her gaze away from Weasley to escape her sudden rush of Peter-centric thoughts. She’s supposed to be mad at him and instead, she’s comparing a long time friend to him? What is wrong with her? She is so unbelievable right now, she can’t even begin to dissect all her thoughts and emotions right now. Oh, please Odine, send us home early. 

 

“How has life been for you lately?” Weasley asked and that's so not what Gwen needs to talk about now. How has she been? Mostly conflicted, thanks for asking, Weasley. “I’ve noticed you’ve been lost in la la land today.” 

 

“You’ve been watching me?” She said it a little too snippy for her taste but so far, today has just been stressor galore, it’s sickening. She just needs to take a drink of water, take a deep breath, and for people to stop breathing down her neck. “Weasley, I appreciate your concern but I’m fine.”

“Don’t seem fine.” He shrugged, putting both hands in his costume's pant pockets. He got the role of the Mouse King and was lucky enough to not wear just tights as an alternative to pants, instead wearing tights and shorts. “What's wrong, Goldie?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” She turns her body towards Janessa and Lina, intending to leave this conversation before it even starts. “Thank you for grabbing my bag.”

“Wait, Gwen—” she felt him reach for her arm but she walked a little faster than normal and he ended up missing her by a hair. Whatever, she’ll deal with him on a later date but definitely not tonight, not when the want to go home grew stronger all because of a one minute interaction with a boy. 

 

That’s so sad, she thought humorously as she finally stood with Janessa and Lina. It was maybe five minutes later when Odine walked through the door and Gwen mentally crossed her fingers, maybe she should click her heels, too. Please let us go home, please let us go home, please let us go home…

 

“Due to recent events, Lilybelle will no longer be participating in this year's production of The Nutcracker, so we now need a replacement.” Chatter filled the air but Odine quickly settled the voices. “I have already picked who it will be so no need to get excited over nothing, I have no time for disappointed dancers.” Gwen snorted behind her hand. “You are all welcome to head home early but expect to work extra hard next week.” 

 

God is real, Gwen thought as she made her way to the doors, ready to change in the stall the costume department has and head home but Odine had other ideas, it seems. The older woman grabbed hold of Gwen’s arm and her eyes alone told Gwen she won’t be leaving with everyone else. She took a seat across from where Odine stood and she watched as everyone walked out the door, not even sparing her a second glance. Janessa and Lina both walked out before her and they never really left the building with one another either. 

 

That’s fine with Gwen, no one to question her. 

 

Finally, it was just her and Odine and she awkwardly swung her legs back and forth from under her chair, shoulders stiff. The French lady continued to stare at Gwen like she was analyzing everything about the blonde; her flaws, her talents, everything. It was like Gwen knew something that Odine didn’t and she wasn't happy about that. 

 

“Gwendolyn,” Odine began and Gwen had to hold back a cringe. Odine didn't do nicknames, she did not care if Christopher went by Chris or if Gabriella went by Gabi, Odine will call someone what is written on their birth certificate, nothing more and nothing less. “I trust you know why I had you stay?”

 

Oh, maybe just a hunch. 

 

But she didn’t dare voice that sarcastic comment, only nodded and waited. 

 

“I have known you since you were a little girl, five years old.” Odine began, finally breaking eye contact with the blonde by slowly walking around the studio. “I’ve known your mother even longer. We were often pinned up against one another, constantly trying to outshine the other and our old instructor always initiated it.” 

 

Gwen had known that little fun fact. Elaine and Odine were ballet students back in “the day” as Gwen’s mother used to say. It wasn’t until the girls were fifteen did they become friends. Gwen just knows that friends didn't mean best friends, otherwise she's pretty sure Odine would have been around a lot more if that were the case. 

 

“I went back to France after I turned eighteen and I made a life for myself there, had a daughter of my own,” the woman continued and Gwen felt this sudden weight in her stomach. Did Odine lose her daughter to The Snap? “Aliéné. She had no wish to come to America with me when I was presented the opportunity so she stayed with her father in France. She was set to graduate high school of this year.” 

 

Oh… Gwen really isn't sure why Odine’s telling her all this but she doesn’t have the heart to stop the woman. The usually stoic lady was sharing something that Gwen just knows is heartbreaking, who is she to interrupt that? 

 

“You remind me of her.” Odine said. “Even look similar.” The ballet teacher took a seat but still did not look at Gwen, instead looking at the floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the far wall. “She was a part of the French ballet, she was a star on that stage.” Odine’s dark eyes met Gwen’s light ones and she struggled to keep contact with Odine. “Just as you are.” 

 

Gwen stopped the movement of her legs and all her nervousness evaporated from her being as she and Odine had an understanding pass through their eyes. Odine wanted Gwen to take Lily’s place as the dancing doll, out of all the students capable, Gwen was the one that was picked and she wasn’t sure which emotion she feels more, confusion or pride. 

 

Individual praise wasn’t something Odine gave out lightly. 

 

“I truthfully wanted you to audition for Clara, imagine my surprise when you chose the Sugar Plum Fairy instead.” Odine only shook her head. “This is a privilege, being able to say you were two different characters in the same, current production. You will be fitted for the costume on Monday and I trust you’ve seen Lilybelle’s dance enough times to remember all you need to do.” 

 

As Odine got to her feet, Gwen figured it would be okay if she did too. So the two of them stood tall, though the older lady was a good few inches taller than Gwen will ever be. Odine’s height alone was her top five most intimidating qualities. 

 

“Have safe travels, Gwendolyn. I trust you won’t let me down.” Odine was out the door no second later, leaving Gwen alone. 

 

Gwen looked away from the door in thought, gnawing on her bottom lip. Odine never did this sort of thing with main cast members. She’d usually find an extra and have them quickly learn the choreography, someone the audience wouldn’t recognize. 

 

Why would she do something like this? Gwen can’t be this lucky. 

 

The feeling of confusion was slowly being washed over by exhilaration the longer Gwen pondered it and a grin split her cheeks and a squeal followed as she skipped to the door, her bag draped over her shoulder. She was so excited and proud of herself! Oh she can’t wait to tell Grandma, Cindy, Peter—

 

Oh… Peter…

 

Her smile fell and her skip turned into a walking, making her way back to the costume department. She really wants to tell him but she’s still so hurt by what he’s done. She knows he’s sorry, she didn’t tune him out when he tried to talk to her or anything, it was just… complicated. Her head is telling her to relax, that it was just a mistake from the alcohol consumption and that he was just having fun, it’s not like they’re dating or anything. He’s allowed to… have fun with other girls that weren't Gwen. 

 

But at the same time, how could she rationally forgive him if he revealed that he’s liked her for a long time too, admitting that he knew of her crush on him. After all the touches and talks, smiles and looks, it just didn’t seem like he cared. That he was throwing it all away. 

 

In her heart, she aches to have things be normal between them again, to pretend Felicia never showed up and that the party never happened. To talk with him again and laugh, to just be with him again and to make more memories together. In her heart, she wants to cry, even just a little bit. How could he do this to her? Why would he do what he did? She feels so stupid, she wants so badly for her mind and heart to compromise and just… get over it. To move on and not let this hinder her from everything else that's important. 

 

Maybe she should just let this go. 

 

Peter is an amazing guy, a great friend, but maybe having… well, whatever it was that they had, wasn’t the best idea. She has school and ballet to work on, she hasn’t even picked up her guitar or drumsticks in weeks and she’s itching to hit something repeatedly that will at least sound decent on the ears. 

 

She made it back to the costume department and entered a stall, slipping on sweatpants and a sweater, swapping out her ballet flats for sneakers. Tightening the strings on the sweatpants, she was a little disappointed that they weren't her bottomless pit looking sweatpants, Peter still has them and she hasn’t asked for them, no matter how much she misses them. Everytime she sees him, she’s reminded of why she was avoiding him. 

 

But if it’s time to let go, maybe she should also forget this incident…

 

She’s too smart to be this hung up over a guy, no matter how much she likes him. No matter how much he shows he knows her and how thoughtful and caring, no matter how funny or brave he is…

 

She’s too smart, she can’t even fool herself.

Notes:

Uh oh spaghetti O

Edit: Also, I’ve already gotten a few comments about this and I kinda just ignore them but this is for the future:

These characters I write about aren’t mine. Yes the writing is but the characters? Nah. So if you wanna draw these characters doing something I write about, have at it! Go for it! You don’t have to ask my permission😁 I would like to be tagged tho just so I can see the wonderful creations but don’t be afraid to just DO IT!!

They would be amazingly beautiful and I’d just be honored!🩷

Chapter 19

Notes:

MERRY CHRISTMAS YALL🤠

Some might say he’s been going over the top, or being too pushy with his apologies to Gwen. But he thinks it’s none of those things. He doesn’t want to embarrass her by causing a big scene or giving extravagant gifts, he knows Gwen will only get flustered and not in a good way. 

 

So since Monday, he’s been leaving one singular pink tulip in her locker each day, until she has a big bouquet (they exchanged locker combos with each other in September incase they had to grab something for one another (Gwen was the one to suggest it and he didn’t see an issue)). 

 

So here he was, on a chilly November Friday, placing another pink tulip in her locker. Harry stood besides him and as Peter positioned the flower nicely, the red head spoke. “Do you think she’ll come around?” 

 

“I hope so.” Peter said, shutting the locker. After explaining everything to Harry over the phone last Saturday, he was all caught up on what happened between Peter and Gwen on Halloween. “I really didn’t mean to hurt her, it was the drinks that made me act stupid.” 

 

“Tell me about it.” Harry muttered and Peter had the sense to know he was referencing his own behavior that night. “Has she given you the chance to talk?” 

 

Peter only shook his head, reaching to grab onto the straps of his backpack as they walked to homeroom. All week she’s been more… calm than she was last Thursday and Friday. No longer avoiding eye contact but not exactly going out of her way to speak to him. 

 

Just as Peter dropped his backpack to the floor near his desk, an idea came to him. If Gwen wasn’t wanting to talk with him, maybe she would talk to Harry. He knows she doesn’t exactly care for him but she doesn’t hate Harry, maybe she’d open up to him a bit.

 

“Hey,” he said as he sat down next to his friend. “Do you think you could talk to Gwen for me?” 

 

“Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Harry shook his head. “I mean, the chick is barely starting to tolerate me, if I ask her about this, she may not talk.” 

 

Peter sank in his chair, nodding at Charles and Abe as they walked in and took their seats in front of him and Harry. They wouldn’t be much help, Gwen wouldn’t tell the two anything as they don’t even really know what went down and Peter doesn’t feel like explaining it all again. Plus, while they may be friends, no way would Gwen talk about such things with Abe or Charles, even if she and Peter hadn’t fought. 

 

That leaves one last candidate and she’d probably spill to Gwen what he’s trying to do. But at the same time, he and Cindy have been friends for years, maybe he could cash in a favor from friendship seniority. That could work! 

 

Oh, who was he kidding, Cindy would tell Gwen, their friendship may not be as long as his with Cindy, but the girls are much closer than he has ever been with the dark haired girl. 

 

But if this is the only way, so be it. 

 

---

 

“Maybe you should just hear him out.” Cindy said as she and Gwen walked out of the school together. Gwen only sighed and saw Peter and Harry at the base of the stairs, the brunette staring at her like she was something out of a story book. “This can’t be very fun for you.” 

 

“It’s not.” Gwen said tiredly, turning her back towards the boys, her eyes set on the doors she and Cindy just walked out of. “But I just don’t know what to do anymore. I’m so conflicted, I want to do so many things and that makes me so… non-reactive.” 

 

“Has he ever done something like this before?” Cindy asked and Gwen looked at her friend. “Has he made attempts at apology?” 

 

“Not that I know of.” Gwen answered the first question. “It always just seemed to be me and him, no questions asked.” Now the second part. “And he has, he's been leaving tulips in my locker…” 

 

One tulip each day, the same pink tulip that he gave her when he came over for dinner all those months ago. The first ever flower he gave her. Did he intentionally get the same kind? Either way, she can’t lie and say it wasn’t thoughtful or cute. 

 

“Wait, he has?” Cindy asked with a little excitement in her voice and Gwen nodded. The first ever tulip had a sticky note attached and she admittedly has kept it in her backpack this entire week, sometimes staring at it whenever she’d grab her things from her bag. 

 

These tulips will represent every apology I owe to you, whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here ~ P

 

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Cindy gripped Gwen's shoulders and squeezed hard. “Do you have it in your bag?” 

 

Gwen nodded but made no move to show Cindy. The flower was cold enough in the backpack, she didn’t want to take it out and risk it dying, even if it was only for a minute. She’ll send a picture later. 

 

Just then, she heard Harry call her name and when she turned, she saw him waving her over with an older man staring at her with an unimpressed raised eyebrow and Peter looking at her with his wide eyes. She bid Cindy a quick goodbye and made her way over to the three guys, smiling politely at the older man as she walked down the steps. 

 

“Dad, this is Gwen Stacy,” Harry introduced as she came to a halt, standing next to Peter. “My friend I was telling you about.” 

 

“Ah, this lovely lady is your friend? Harold, you should be honored.” Norman Osborn took Gwen’s outstretched hand and gently shook it. “One of Midtown’s best and brightest?” 

 

“Oh, I’m just as good as anyone else here.” Gwen laughed, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly. The praise was certainly unexpected, something she wouldn’t have expected genius Norman Osborn to say at first meeting. 

 

“Humble, too. Harold, take notes.” Norman’s smile fell when he looked at his son and the red head only nodded stiffly before placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder, his energy returning.

 

“This is my buddy, Peter Parker, the other up-and-coming scientist.” 

 

Peter and Norman shook hands and Gwen couldn’t help but notice how red Peter’s knuckles are. She doesn’t recall Spider-Man getting into any brawls lately…

 

“Really?” Norman raised an eyebrow, looking between Peter and Gwen. “Either of you looking for any internships? I’m something of a scientist myself, I’m always looking for bright new minds.” 

 

“Oh, sir, that would be great, but I’m currently interning at Stark Industries.” Peter smiles and withdraws his hand. “I’ve been with them since I was a freshman.”

 

“Really? Stark must’ve seen greatness in you, all the more reason for me to steal you!” Norman laughed loudly and that got some attention from other students, some looking at the older man in awe or judgment. Gwen giggled alongside him, not sure what else she could do. Peter and Harry’s chuckles told her they were thinking the same thing. 

 

“What about you, my dear?” Norman once again addressed her and an involuntary chill went through her, his beady eyes that were nothing like Harry’s and his smile raised a few red flags in Gwen’s mind. She’s just not sure why. “Got any room for interning?” 

 

“Ah,” she said, her pitch higher than she’d like. “I mean, not at the moment, I’m kinda busy with other things, so…” 

 

“Yeah, she’s the ballerina,” Harry supplied and Gwen wanted to facepalm. There was just something about his dad that Gwen did not like, and she intentionally left out details. Something in her gut told her that was the smartest thing to do and Harry unknowingly ruined that. “The one I told you about.” 

 

“She’s one of the best students.” Peter added and her heart hammered in her chest as she turned her head to stare up at Peter, a soft smile gracing his lips. “She’s amazing.”

 

She heard Norman hum but she was too busy looking away from Peter, the sudden eye contact and awareness of just how close they were standing was weighing upon her. This is so embarrassing, Gwen thought miserably as she covered half her red face with the collar of her jacket, looking down at the sidewalk. 

 

“Have we met before?” That made Gwen look back up and she saw that Norman was looking at Peter with a peculiar expression, squinting at her friend. “I could’ve sworn I’ve heard your voice before.”

 

“Ah,” Peter shuffled and Gwen only cocked her head to the side, waiting for Peter's answer. He would’ve told her if he had met Norman Osborn before, right? “No, sir, can’t say we have.” 

 

Norman only deeply hummed, looking at Peter through his eyebrows with the way his head was tilted, before he blinked and a smile replaced his skepticism, clapping softly. “Well, maybe you just have one of those voices.” Another bold laugh erupted from the man and Gwen was starting to take this as her cue to head to ballet class. 

 

“Well, Mr. Osborn, it was really nice meeting you but unfortunately I have to head to class now, but maybe we’ll meet again soon.” She might get strange vibes from this man but no way was she going to be rude and give this possible weirdo (definitely ascentric man) a reason to prove her feelings correct. 

 

“Yes,” Norman shook her offered hand. “Maybe we will.” 

 

Hope not! But she couldn’t say that. The way his voice lowered and the way his grip practically broke her hand made her walk faster away from the school than she usually did. She didn’t even bother acknowledging the boy's farewells, hopefully they just think that she couldn’t hear them. 

 

Harry’s father was definitely someone she could live with never seeing again. 

 

---

 

Harry watched as Gwen walked away from them, her legs moving fast and her hair billowing behind her as the wind picked up. 

 

That was such strange behavior, Harry’s not sure he’d ever seen her act such a way. 

 

“Skittish, ain’t she?” He heard his father ask and both he and Peter looked back at him, but he was only staring at the brunette. “Trouble in paradise?” 

 

“Oh, uh, no-no,” Peter shook his head, making brief eye contact with Harry. “There’s no paradise.” 

 

Bullshit. Harry could tell his father wasn’t convinced either and only smirked with a slight shake of his head. “I’ve been up and down and around the block myself a time or two, son.” He sighed and pushed his hands in his pockets. “I can see it in others.” Norman took a step towards the black, dark tinted windowed car and Harry took that as his sign to follow. “It was great meeting you, Mr. Parker, I hope to see you again.” 

 

Harry waved goodbye to his friend as Peter said his own farewells, following Norman into the back seat of the car. Once that door closed, Harry suddenly felt suffocated. It's rare that he gets to see his father, nevermind actually sitting in the same car. 

 

He pushes himself into the black leather while he feels Norman’s gaze on him, like the older man was really seeing something he didn’t like. His entire attitude flipped, he was no longer suave and kind like he was in front of Peter and Gwen, now stoic but judgmental at the same time and the flip made Harry’s head hurt.

 

“Those friends of yours,” he began and Harry watched as the driver put up the divider, making Harry feel even more cramped. “They’re… special.”

 

“Don't you like them?” He asked, a nervous smile forming as Norman continued to stare with a frown. “They’re both real smart and nice.” 

 

“Smart,” Norman repeated and Harry’s smile dropped. A cold crawled over him like bugs. “Nice.” 

 

Harry averted his eyes from his father, subconsciously moving closer to the door rather than the middle seat, needing that extra space, no matter how little it was. 

 

Sometimes his father scares him, sometimes the man says things that are just not him, and Harry isn’t sure how to act around Norman anymore. Norman Osborn is known for being a scrutinizing and cold man, but never scary. Especially not towards Harry, but the teen isn’t sure why that changed. 

 

“I have to go away on business for a few days, Harold.” Norman said and his eyes left Harry to look out the window, the teen instantly relaxing. “The driver will drop you off at the penthouse while I, the airport.” 

 

So that’s why he showed, Harry thought bitterly. His bags must already be packed and in the trunk, ready to be dropped off at their private landing pad where a jet will be waiting. 

 

Midtown was on the way, after all. 

 

“Yeah, okay, Dad.” Harry muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

“Are you not grateful?” Norman asked. 

 

“No, Dad, that’s not it all.” Harry shook his head, looking back at the older man. “You’re just always gone and I thought you wanted to, I don’t know, spend time with me or something!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice but his father accusing him of something he’s not just gets him all riled up. 

 

“Don’t act like a child, I’m doing all this traveling and all these meetings for you.” Norman’s voice grew harder with each word spoken and Harry was practically hiding in himself, the man was close to growling. “You should be glad that I’m still here! To provide! You’re just like that hag of a woman I married, always nagging and nagging. If I knew how much you were going to be like her, I would’ve shipped you off to her years ago!”

 

Harry only stared at his father as the older man glared at him, his mouth hanging open on its own accord. Norman only looked away when he checked his watch and didn’t look back at Harry again. 

 

Harry, in question, slowly closed his mouth and turned away from Norman, tears filling his eyes. He leaned his elbow on the little rest of the door and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to rid himself of the upcoming cries. 

 

He doesn’t mean it, he’s stressed, he doesn’t mean it, he keeps telling himself over and over to try to calm himself down but his heart knows better than his brain and the desire to just sob was strong but no way would he do that in Norman’s presence.

 

After what felt like an entirety, they arrived at the private landing pad and Harry still didn’t even look at his father as the man got out of the car, the driver grabbing his luggage for him. The door slammed shut and Harry flinched, letting that be his cue to clench his eyes shut and finally let the tears roll down his cheeks as his fathers jet got ready for takeoff.

 

---

 

Peter stared up at the sky as little white specks fell from the light gray clouds, his hands stuffed into his winter coat. Thursday, November 15th, first day of snow. It was early morning as he stood on the stairs of Midtown, waiting for Harry and Gwen. 

 

The girl has slowly made her way back to him, but Peter knows that there’s still a barrier and he’s determined to knock it down today. 

 

He has to give kudos to her kindness though, he knows he hurt her heavily on Halloween but she hasn’t been rude, per say. Just distant, only really talking to him if she needs to but she never ignores or glares at him, just quiet and he can’t stand that. 

 

A tulip was already placed in her locker, he still had a few more tulips left of the bouquet he bought before he’ll have to buy another one. But that’s alright, he’ll buy Gwen all the flowers in the world, whether or not they symbolize apology or not. 

 

A dark car pulled up and Harry hopped out quickly, bidding goodbye to his driver before jogging over to Peter, the light dusting of snow showing his footprints. “Man,” the redhead said. “I figured we had a little more time before the snowfall.” He then followed Peter's line of sight out towards the gates. “Still no Gwen?” 

 

“Not yet,” he answered. “But soon.” He looked at Harry, a frown forming on his cold lips. “Do you think this is too… pushy?” The last thing he wanted was for Gwen to get annoyed and think he wasn’t respecting her boundaries, but he had no idea what else to do. He's never been in a situation like this. 

 

“Nah, man, you know how many girls would love this sort of thing?” Harry clasped Peter on the shoulder and gave him a light shake. “And that note you left with the first one? I wouldn’t be surprised if Gwen really is just milking this out for more flowers.” 

 

“She’s not like that.” Peter said, shrugging. Besides, he wouldn’t mind giving Gwen flowers for no other reason but because he knows she likes them. There doesn’t have to be a specific reason behind it. “Anyways,” he didn’t really want to talk about this anymore when classmates walked around them, eager to get into the building. “Your dad still outta town?” 

 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “He didn’t say when he’d be back, and honestly I’m not expecting him back for—is that blood?” 

 

Harry’s eyes were trained on Peter’s neck and his eyes widened immediately. His already pale face grew paler (somehow) and he clasped a hand over his neck, right where Harry’s eyes were trained. 

 

His voice came out more high pitched and uncertain than he would’ve liked. “No?” 

 

He was out late last night and stopped a mugger from hurting some civilian, but the mugger was armed and clumsy. In his haste to get Spider-Man to back off, he managed to scratch the side of Peter’s neck with his blade. The wound healed completely by the time the mugger was tied up and in police presence. He absolutely cannot believe he forgot to wash the blood off. In his defense… he was really tired?

 

Harry only gave him a slight panicky exasperated look. “That’s so not how you’re supposed to answer that. What happened?”

 

“Nothing to worry about, honest.” Peter hoped his smile came off as assurance while he walked to the bathroom, intent on washing his neck. Stupid move from a stupid teenager. “I’ll see you in class.” 

 

Harry didn’t respond but Peter could still feel the redhead's eyes on him until he closed the door to the bathroom, relieved to find it empty. Last thing he wanted was for another person to question him. 

 

After washing and drying his neck, he only had a handful of minutes left until the warning bell for homeroom went off. Exiting the bathroom, his eyes zeroed in on the blonde that was standing at her locker, back facing Peter. 

 

He watched with bated breath as she stared at the tulip for a while, and Peter thought she wouldn’t do much more than that but then she grabbed it and held it delicately in her pale hands. He had the thought to move, to leave her alone and get to class but it was like he was in a trance, watching for any reaction that she could unknowingly give him. He wanted to see if she’d sigh or if she’d whisper to herself, to see if she’d put the flower in her backpack and intentionally get it smashed between her books (rationally, he knows she would never do that but irrationally…) or if she’d place it back in her locker to keep safe.

 

He watched as her body moved while she took a deep breath, gently placing it back in the locker (ha, take that irrationality) and shutting it with a soft slam. 

 

He was suddenly all too aware that they were the only ones in the hallway and he was staring at her from not even ten feet away and he couldn’t even move in time before she turned around and their eyes immediately met, both simultaneously blushing very red and eyes widening. A nervous smile filtered onto his lips while she stared at him. 

 

“Hey…?” I’m such a loser. 

 

“…hi, Peter.” 

 

He gestured at her locker then back to her awkwardly, his smile still ever present. “I see you… uh, got my presents.” He then blinked. “Oh, well not actually presents, they’re not supposed to be like that like that, but uh… I… hope you like them?” Smooth, Pete, real smooth. 

 

She dropped her head and a small part of him wanted to celebrate at the small smile he could see from behind her bangs. When she lifted her head, that beam eased into a closed lipped smile. “Yes, they’re… yeah, they’re beautiful.” 

 

“Pinks you’re favorite color.” He said and Gwen looked at him with a very polite duh face. He tried not to cringe. “And tulips are your favorite…” 

 

“Uh huh.” Gwen nodded, and he could see her inching towards the other end of the hallway where Mr. Harrington’s classroom was. 

 

“Look, Gwen—”

 

“Peter, I know where you’re going to go with this.” She cut him off and yeah, he can agree that he’s being pretty predictable right now. “I am not mad anymore, you have no need to apologize.” 

 

“Then why is there this… wall between us?” He asked, taking a step forward. “I really don’t understand, please just tell me.” 

 

But Gwen didn’t. In fact, she just stared at him and he had enough sense to know that she’s just lost in her own thoughts right now, trying to understand this whole thing herself. She can stand there and deny all she’d like but he knows he hurt her. Anger may be out of the equation now, but is the wound? 

 

The warning bell went off and neither of them moved, a very soft stare down happening between them but no weakness occupied this time. 

 

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, I really do.” She finally spoke. “The flowers were a nice touch and I really just want to move past this,” she licked her lips and averted her eyes. “But, while I may not be angry anymore, I just… I feel so stupid for this, but I just…”

 

“You’re not stupid.” That’s all he could say, so many seconds after silence. 

 

She looked at him again and her eyes were a little misty and her pink cheeks were getting pinker as he could see her fighting back those tears. “This isn’t easy,” she laughed without humor and Peter’s heart ached, “and I don’t want you to think I stopped caring about you, I still… you’re my friend, you know? My first since… I don’t want this to keep being a… thing or whatever. I just… not now, not yet.” 

 

He nodded, taking a step back and that’s when the final bell rang but he didn’t care if he was tardy. All he cared about was easing the girl's heart and wiping those tears that were moments away from falling. He did this to her, and he’s never felt guilt like this before. It was so different from the kind he felt when he remembered the battle against Thanos and the fights that always ended in a draw between him and Green Goblin. 

 

“I still care for you too,” he whispered and he saw her lips quiver and he didn’t have to be a genius to know why she suddenly turned her head away from him, letting her blonde hair act as a curtain. “A lot, actually.” Maybe more than he can admit to anyone other than himself. 

 

He heard her sniff and she nodded her head stiffly before shooting off to Mr. Harrington’s classroom, not looking back at him and perhaps, that’s better than anything else. He's not sure he could take her expression, already the thought of it makes him feel utter shame. 

 

He stood there for a minute longer than necessary before he walked to Mrs. Warren’s homeroom, only about ten minutes left until first period. 

 

Getting a tardy and judgmental looks from classmates for being late didn’t bother Peter as much as it once did, but this time he wasn’t focused on Spider-Man. 

 

He was focused on Gwen. 

 

---

 

Garrett smiled in greeting as Peter took his usual seat, dropping his bag besides his feet. The teen smiled back and Garrett was glad to see less tension in Peter’s shoulders upon seeing him. Though there was more sadness in those brown eyes. 

 

“Afternoon, Peter,” Garrett tapped a magazine against his knee before dropping it on the table beside his chair, it was something that he looked through occasionally if he arrived before his patients. “How was school?”

 

Peter shrugged. “Same as always.” 

 

“Ah, dull and boring, much better things to do with your time.” He’s heard it before from the teen and it did amuse him. Peter really is too smart for high school. “Remind me again why you don’t graduate early?”

 

He doesn’t need reminding, it’s a loyalty thing Peter has. End with the people he started with. Garrett suspects it’s also because the teen doesn’t want to grow up too fast. Garrett doesn’t blame him. 

 

Peter only shrugged and Garrett took that as his cue to move on. He feels as though Peter’s trauma from Thanos and space has gotten better, but it’s not ever fully healed. Goblin is the newest monster in Peter’s brain, front row and center. Garrett feels he can touch base on both subjects. 

 

“How’s sleep coming along?” He asks and once again, Peter shrugs. “Are you still sleeping with a light on?” 

 

“Yeah, my curtains stay shut too.” 

 

“Has Thanos crossed your mind lately?” Garrett really doesn’t like to sugarcoat his sessions with his patients, there’s no shades of gray, it’s only black and white with his questions. Luckily no ones complained about his style. 

 

“Not for a while…” Peter mumbled. “It’s just more habit now to…” light on, curtains closed. 

 

”I get it.” He really did, Peter’s been doing the same thing every night since May and they’re already halfway through November, it’s a no brainer that he’d continue this path. “Is there any way to change the brightness of that night light?” 

 

He saw the way that Peter’s eyes became stricken, his shoulders growing tight. But Garrett is perfectly aware of what exactly he is asking of Peter. With this kid, there’s no growth without trying, and Garrett thinks it’s time to initiate it. 

 

“I want you to try to lower it down a peg, see if that’s possible to do. I’m not saying to throw it out, but just… make it a little dim, a little less bright.” He shrugged to make it seem like it was no big deal; that it was easy. Hopefully his confidence will transfer to Peter. “You can even see if you can move it closer to you. Is that something you are willing to try?” 

 

There was some hesitance but Peter ended up nodding, licking his lips while his knee started to bounce. Garrett smiled softly at the teen, ready to tackle the next subject. He didn’t feel like mentioning Thanos when Peter said it’s been awhile since he last thought of the villian, though, if the teen gives a reason to bring it up, Garrett will have no issue with it. 

 

“I hear Green Goblin hasn’t been around for awhile,” he begins. “Does that make you nervous?” 

 

“Any sane person would be.” Peter said without a second thought, his voice wasn’t malicious but it wasn’t kind either. “He’s… not okay.” 

 

“Not okay?” 

 

“He seems sick.” Garrett watched as Peter’s eyes moved to the window where snow continued to fall, a little cardinal sitting in one of the tree branches that was closest to the window. “He laughed at me while I was bleeding, he clapped while I was hurt. He didn’t want to end the fight early so he kept going.”

 

Garrett leaned forward and watched with critical eyes as Peter rambled, something the teen hasn’t done yet. 

 

“I get so angry when I think about him sometimes, it’s… I don’t like it. I’m angry with him and myself. It's my responsibility to bring him down and I just haven’t succeeded. I promised myself that the next time he shows up, it’ll be the last. And yeah, I’m growing more nervous and scared the longer he stays away because what if he’s planning something bigger than me? I can’t ask for help, he only calls my name out and no one has even asked if I do need help and I feel like I’m alone and there’s just a mess in my brain that I can‘t even formally articulate into coherent thoughts and I’m just making my way through life one day at a time and I don’t even feel like I’m really living, just breathing and I’m so tired but restless at the same time and I just don’t get it.”

 

Peter still looked away from Garrett and the man tried to not let the surprise show on his face. That was the most Peter has ever shared with him and Garrett just… he’s honestly at a loss for words. But he’s just… proud, he supposes. Peter might’ve not realized he revealed that much, just letting the mouth run and the brain lose logic. 

 

“Peter,” Garrett thinks this could be a good place to start. “The heroes that are here, in this present day, respect you.” He quickly held his hand up when Peter opened his mouth. “You can try to tell yourself differently but it’s the truth. They might not have offered because they believe you can wholeheartedly handle this clown. They respect you too much to move in on this guy who has announced himself as your villain. Try to ask them if they’re able to help, you might be surprised with the response.” 

 

Peter finally looked at him again and he slowly nodded, like he understood what Garrett said. 

 

“Good.” Garrett reached into his own bag for a piece of paper and a pen. “Now, you’re still on paroxetine, right?” At Peter nod, Garrett hummed. “Alright, I’m going to ask you a series of questions and all I need is a yes or no, okay?” Peter nodded again. “Have you been having any luck with sleeping lately? Like, feeling more tired in the morning even after sufficient hours of sleep, waking up in the middle of the night for reasons other than nightmares.” Peter nodded and Garrett scribbled down on his paper. “Have you been experiencing any nausea?” This time, Peter shook his head. “One bright side to everything.” He grumbled and Peter let a smile slip. 

 

“I’ll take lack of sleep over vomit.” Peter agreed, his smile still in place and Garrett was in the same boat as him. 

 

“Now, has things been… more difficult?” He didn’t need to elaborate if Peter’s gloomy look told him anything. Once again, Peter hesitated before nodding. “Do you maybe wanna break it down for me?” 

 

Peter opened his mouth but no sound came out. It took a minute before courage hit Peter and he finally spoke. “Just… I guess I’ve been more mean to myself…” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“More negative in my thoughts. I don’t… hurt myself or anything if that’s what you’re worried about, I-I have no thoughts of doing that at all. But I guess I’ve been putting more… pressure on myself… and being mean when I… fail.” 

 

Garrett already knew that from Peter’s earlier ramble but he only nodded. “Everyone has those thoughts, but would it be better to maybe talk about them? Instead of keeping them bottled up?”

 

“I… I could try, I just don’t…” 

 

“…you don’t want to worry people, I get it.” Peter doesn’t need to tell Garrett that for the man to know it. “But guess what, they’ll worry whether you tell them or not. It’s what the ones we love and care for do, cause they love and care for us.” Peter once again looked away. “Have you thought of suicide at all?” 

 

One can think of it without having to hurt themselves, it’s a common misconception that someone can’t have one without the other and Garrett is tired of hearing about it. 

 

“No…” Peter murmured.

 

“Ever have thoughts about,” Garrett once again shrugged and waved his hand lazily. “Going away or disappearing? Wanting to sleep for a long time?” 

 

At that, Peter nodded and that’s all Garrett needed to know. He figured paroxetine wasn’t the best choice for Peter but it was easily one of the starter antidepressants many were prescribed. It works for some, doesn’t for others. 

 

“I’m going to talk with Cho about getting you a new prescription of antidepressants. Duloxetine, or as it’s known, cymbalta, is one I think will work best for you, it’s part of the SNRI category where paroxetine is a part of SSRI.” 

 

Peter blinked at him owlishly and Garrett almost wanted to laugh. Seems like Peter’s never taken psychology. “Uh… what’s the difference?” 

 

“SSRI basically increases the serotonin in your brain by blocking the reuptake, while SNRI not only increases the serotonin but also the norepinephrine in your brain by blocking the reuptake. With cymbalta, you may feel a bit more tired than usual, have less of an appetite, some headaches here and there.” Garrett explains and he feels no need to dumb it down for the teen because Peter looks like he understands if the small “ohh” tells Garrett anything. “Cho will also up the dosage in each tablet so it will work with your metabolism.” 

 

“But… I thought therapists weren’t supposed to talk about meds or prescriptions. Or prescribe.” Peter genuinely looked confused and Garrett couldn’t help but feel the same. Did someone tell Peter that Garrett was just a therapist? 

 

“I’m a psychiatrist.” Garrett corrected. “So I am part therapist but I can also diagnose and prescribe meds. Cho falls under the same category as me, but she also modifies any drugs needed for the Avengers.” 

 

Helen also has so many doctorates and licenses under her belt that it’s insane. He should thank his lucky stars that she lets him handle this section.

 

The sound of his watch beeping told him that their session was over and he was pleased to see that Peter didn’t seem so anxious to leave. The kid has really relaxed. 

 

“Well, Mr. Parker, our time is up. I will forward this to Cho and she should give Pepper a call once they’re ready for pick up in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, finish the ones you have and by the time you’re done with it, you’ll have a smaller dosage of the paroxetine for pick up. With that new bottle, take two a day; one in the morning, one at night, just as you're already doing. Once that bottle is finished, you can start taking your new meds.”

 

Peter nodded and questioned if he could keep the little piece of paper that Garrett wrote down the medication on. He didn’t see an issue with Peter keeping it, he’d probably do his own research later. 

 

He looked back at his watch and made his way over to the coat hanger that was placed in the room, slipping on his jacket before locking the door behind him, not running into anyone as he walked to his car, already knowing he’ll have to swipe the snow off his car. 

 

I hate this state. 

 

---

 

Me: Running late at the office, dinners on you tonight

Me: Love ya <3

 

Liza pocketed her phone quickly after sending that text and looked back at her boss, Marko Adamić. Around them were files on the famous web slinger, who would most likely be a thorn in their side if his previous history with illegal weapons told Liza anything. These weren’t alien enhanced weaponry, but modified by Marko’s group, meant to overpower any person it comes across to the point of pain. 

 

Captain America, Hulk, Black Widow, Thor, and the other heroes that were spared from The Snap would most likely stay away, unless that spider reached out. But according to the audio recordings she’s gotten from Garrett’s phone, it doesn't seem likely. 

 

Don’t get her wrong, she does feel a little bad about bugging Garrett’s property but what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right? 

 

“Peter Parker,” Marko drawled and Liza’s eyes drifted back to him. “Is that spider hero?” 

 

She nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

 

“And that husband of yours,” Marko turned his head to make eye contact with her. “Is he aware of your spying?” 

 

She smirked but shook her head. That was a hilarious idea. Yes, her husband was a skilled SHIELD agent, but she can’t say he was better than her. Bugging his phone had been easy, accessing SHIELD information under his name was fun but no less difficult. Paid off marrying an agent that sucks with technology. Truth be told, SHIELD had a lot of secrets, but none of them were of interest to her like Peter Parker was. 

 

Imagine her surprise the first time she found out Spider-Man was seventeen, the hero her children adored, the hero that was the people’s hero. Little Peter Parker orphaned at four years old only to be put into his aunt and uncle's care, said uncle dying ten years later. May and Peter Parker had been the only two left, and they weren’t even related by blood. Then May goes ahead and gets Dusted, and he’s finally all alone. 

 

He was a smart kid, she can give him credit where it’s due. Not only an honor student but on his way to be valedictorian of his class, offered early graduation and college admission. Created his own web fluid with high school chemicals and used that brain of his to defeat many. 

 

The only hero to successfully get Thanos' gauntlet off. Albeit, only for a few seconds, but Liza wasn’t dense enough to ignore that impressive feat. 

 

“Are we sure this will work?” She asked, gesturing to one of the many weapons laid out on a fluorescent table. She and Marko were the only ones that knew of Spider-Man’s true identity, the other crew members ignorant. 

 

The weapon she gestured to would basically heighten all of Peter’s senses to the point of unconsciousness and when he wakes, he’ll be in unbearable pain. Liza could only imagine what it would feel like to have her eyes and eardrums feel like they’re exploding and melting at the same time, having her skin be so overwhelmed with the fabric and surfaces of whatever it’s touching to the point of tearing it all off. 

 

Poor Peter Parker…

 

“We’ve tested it on many before, Liza.” Marko walked closer to her and his height always made Liza feel incredibly small. “Hydra will stop at nothing to get a smidge of his DNA to make a more powerful weapon in their favor. If we get to him before they do, they will pay us handsomely.” He then shrugged, his own smirk on his lips. “Might even be able to take down SHIELD and run this world like we’ve all wanted to. Being an affiliate of Hydra will open so many doors for us.” 

 

She did like the sound of that, but she’s not dumb enough to know that Marko only says what she wants to hear. Unfortunately, it works. His hand cupped her chin and she froze, watching his eyes scan her face. 

 

“You did good work, Liza.” Marko murmured and goosebumps decorated her skin, physically shaking from it. “Don’t disappoint me.” 

 

He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek and she couldn’t help but melt into him. Her relationship with her boss has always been more than friendly but no lines were ever crossed, yet she yearns for something more than friendly touches and innocent kisses. But out of all that she’s done, infidelity makes her feel the most guilt. 

 

Marko lets go of her chin and exits the room, and Liza deflates, looking to stare at newspaper articles of Spider-Man, his file open and other paper from it splayed out. 

 

Hacking into Garrett’s SHIELD computer hadn’t been as hard as she had figured it would be. All she had to do was purposely make Garrett forget his lunch at home and sweetly drop it off for him later in the day, when she knew he’d be out of office in a meeting. The other agents didn’t spare her a second glance after she gave her reasoning, and she was glad that her years of marriage with Garrett and attending holiday parties paid off. 

 

A flash drive Adamić’s crew made for her made it easy to access the computer without alerting any safe walls SHIELD has set up and her objective to just find everything SHIELD had on Spider-Man. 

 

“Why not the rest of the Avengers?” 

 

“Have we ever seen the Avengers worry about illegal weapons when it wasn’t about them?” 

 

Marko had a point, Spider-Man is the only one that’s had contact with stuff like these weapons and he’s their biggest threat. Knocking him out and holding him in a cell will ensure Marko’s future for his crew. Sure, the remaining Avenger’s may look for him, but they won't be able to find him. 

 

His mother also happened to have a history with SHIELD, Richard Parker was the boy's stepfather, but an unknown biological father. Whether Peter knew that or not, they could play with his mind with that information. 

 

She peered at a piece of paper besides his general information. Where he went to school, who his current friends are, who they used to be. Who he lives with now. It’s just interesting that Peter Parker and Spider-Man aren’t linked together under general SHIELD knowledge. 

 

Marko says that they won’t be ready to make their presence known for a few more months, maybe not until next year. But she has time, she’s in no rush to leave Garrett, Spencer, and Alana. But she knows it’s only due time. 

 

---

 

“Hey, my little Паук,” Natasha’s voice made Peter lookup as he exited the compound, a little confused as to why Happy isn’t picking him up. The spy had the driver’s side window rolled down and she smirked at Peter. “Figured we’d take you out to eat.” 

 

Peter tilted his head, his hair growing damp from the falling snow. “We?” 

 

The backseat window rolled down and there sat Captain America, smiling and giving the teen a friendly wave. Peter stopped in his tracks and looked back and forth between Natasha and Steve. Last time he saw Steve it was when he returned from space and kind of freaked out on him. Oh this is going to be awkward. 

 

“Hey, Sport.” Steve was still smiling. “Come on, we’ll take ya to any lunch car you’d like.” 

 

“Steve, you’re making yourself sound old, stop it.” Natasha teased with a straight face and Peter felt kind of bad that Steve put himself in the back and let Peter have the front. So, naturally, he said something about it. 

 

“Mr. Rogers, you don’t have to sit back there, I’ll gladly take the backseat.” Peter said as he walked closer. “I usually do whenever Happy picks me up, it’s no trouble.” 

 

“I feel safer back here than I do up there with her driving.” Steve responded kindly and so Peter dropped into the front seat, his backpack between his legs. “Besides, it’s our treat.” 

 

“She drives dangerously?” Peter raised an eyebrow at that. There’s been a few times where the two of them have driven someplace or another, Natasha was always careful behind the wheel. “Really?” 

 

“He exaggerates.” Natasha’s smooth voice responded as they pulled onto the main road. “I haven’t killed you with my driving.” 

 

“Still early.” Peter hears Steve mumble and he snickers, looking out the window as people walk along the streets, buildings illuminating the world as the sun is already setting. “So, Peter, any place in particular you’d like to go to?”

 

“Uh…” Peter looked around at the restaurants that were nuzzled between other shops, bar and grills, habochi’s, fast food, breakfast diners. Then he spotted one that he hasn’t been to in months. 

 

Mr. Stark took him here a lot. 

 

Ollie’s Bar & Grill flashed red neon and a sense of nostalgia hit Peter as he remembers Mr. Stark and him walking along the streets one night where neither of them felt like doing lab work or being in the compound. Mr. Stark swore that this place had the best cheese burgers he’s ever had, and the smell wasn’t half bad either. 

 

“Bullshit prices, I’ll tell you that.” He said as he and Peter walked into the restaurant, immediately sitting in a booth. “Even for me.” 

 

“Didn't you just buy a twenty-four thousand dollar suit last week?” Peter asked with a laugh. 

 

“I know what I’m worth, kid.” 

 

So, Peter picked the bar and grill as his place of dining and Natasha quickly parked and the three of them walked in together. The smell of food and music from a live band filled Peter’s senses and he watched while he walked with Steve and Natasha to a tall table. 

 

“This place seems homey.” Steve said as they all seated, their jackets on the backs of their chairs. “Do you come here often?” 

 

“Not often enough, not anymore.” Peter said, watching the soundless basketball game play on the TV. “Mr. Stark used to take me here a lot…” 

 

“Then you must know what’s good on the menu.” Natasha said, looking over the complementary alcohol section that adored every table with the condiments. “I could go for a glass of wine, or maybe a sazerac.”

 

Steve reached across the round table and plucked the menu out of her hands. “You’re driving.” He told her in a stern but soft voice and Peter was reminded of his PSA’s. 

 

“One drink isn’t going to intoxicate me, come on, Steve.” She rolled her eyes but then a waitress popped up and all three had their attention on her as she placed menus in front of them. 

 

“Hey, guys! Welcome to Ollie’s. My name is Audrey and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with any drinks?” 

 

Natasha slowly turned and looked Steve dead in the eyes, her voice velvety. “I’ll have a glass of French Malbec, please.” 

 

Peter struggled to keep a straight face as he looked back and forth between Natasha and Steve, one who looked ready to take on a challenge and the other who looked disappointed. 

 

“Uh, I’ll just take a Pepsi.” Peter said, interrupting the face off the two adults were having.

 

“Black coffee, please.” Steve said and Audrey scurried off to get those drinks. Steve then sighed, “Nat…” 

 

“It’s a little wine, Rogers, ease up.” Natasha looked at Peter and rolled her eyes again, and just like before, Peter tried not to laugh. “Let’s focus on what we’ll eat tonight, hm? Oh, look Steve, you can get a discount for being a senior citizen.” 

 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Har har.” 

 

Honestly, a cheese burger does sound really good right now, he could ask for seasoned sour cream, too. That was something Mary introduced him to early on, and he remembers that she told him it’s “a Fitzpatrick’s favorite”. She wasn’t wrong. 

 

“So, how was school?” Steve asked while the three watched the band, it seems they all know what they’re going to eat. 

 

There was no way he was going to mention his mistake with Gwen and their talk, so he shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. “Boring, I think the best part was leaving.” 

 

Natasha shook her head fondly, leaning a little towards Peter. “I keep telling you…” 

 

Peter copied her movement and brought his head closer to her, his voice just as teasing. “And I keep telling you that I’d like to have some normalcy. I can’t just drop out to run missions all the time.” 

 

“What? You asked him to drop out?” Steve frowned. 

 

“Of course not, who do you take me for?” Natasha shrugged and toyed with the menu. “I simply said that he could graduate early and before college, we could do some easy missions to ease him into more big time ones.” 

 

“Oh,” Steve physically relaxed but then turned a stern look at Peter, his eyebrows raising. “Good. School is very important.” 

 

That’s when Peter lost it. He snorted, bringing a hand up to his eyes to block both Natasha and Steve from his line of sight but the laughter didn’t cease. All he could see was Steve in his knock off Captain America uniform telling him that detention is a place of growth and that his body was moving along with it. 

 

It’s also hilarious that Steve cares more about his education than putting his life in danger to complete something. 

 

“Wanna share, Pete?” Natasha asked and when he looked at her then Steve, another round of laughter came out of Peter. Those stupid PSA’s. 

 

He tried to calm down as he saw Audrey come back with their drinks, but the giggling didn’t go away as he hoped. Audrey looked a little amused as she set their drinks down and took out a pad and pen. “Have we decided on what we’re going to eat?” 

 

Through chuckles and gasps, Peter said his order and Natasha and Steve followed with theirs. Audrey bid them goodbye with a promise of their food soon and Peter wiped his eyes. His stomach hurt a little. 

 

“You just,” he took a deep breath, “sound a lot like your PSA’s.” 

 

Immediately, Steve’s eyes widened and Natasha looked at him with an evil glint in her eyes. “Your what now?” 

 

“His PSA’s that he recorded for schools in New York.” Peter explained. “About gym class or detention, there’s one for chemistry where he just stresses the importance of goggles for five minutes.” 

 

“Peter—”

 

“Паук, please tell me I can find those online.” 

 

“I’m sure you could.” Peter beamed and fished out his phone, the two spiders crowding over Peter’s phone as he looked on YouTube, both completely ignoring Steve’s weak attempts of protests and only groaning to himself in defeat when Peter started to play one.  

 

Peter laughed while Natasha snickered, sipping on her wine while she watched. Towards the end, Peter had to clasp his hand over his mouth and Natasha just sipped her wine while trying to not laugh herself. 

 

“Yeah, okay, laugh it up.” Steve said, a faux angry expression not hiding his amused eyes or his struggle to stop from smiling. “Ya know, this was after the Battle of—it was to instill trust, okay!” 

 

“Trust that you also experienced puberty? That you’re a late bloomer?” Natasha smirked and Peter dropped his head to the table, lightly smacking the wood with his fist. “How unfortunate I didn’t know about this until now.” 

 

“In that-in that ridiculous costume!” Peter wheezed, clutching his stomach while he laughed. “I just—oh, I can’t breathe!” 

 

He felt Natasha lightly slap his back and he tried to get oxygen back in his lungs. How loserish would it be if Spider-Man died due to laughing too much in a bar and grill? Honestly, it would be a cool way to die.  

 

His saving grace was when Audrey came back and delivered their food, making a comment that this must be a fun table if Peter's face said anything. He wiped his eyes again and tried to drink some of his Pepsi, calming himself down. Nothing was more important than food. 

 

Taking a bite of his burger, he could literally feel himself ascending to the heavens because holy shit, this is so good!

 

Steve must have been watching Peter enter into a different realm because the veteran snickered and when Peter looked at him, the blonde raised an eyebrow. “That good, huh?” 

 

He tried to say something along the lines of: “this burger could punch me in the face and I’d devote my entire life to it.” But all that came out was warped garbage. 

 

Natasha smacked the back of his head and he didn’t even realize his spider sense didn’t go off. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, сын.”

 

“Извини.” He mumbled as he put his burger down and drank some more Pepsi. Sorry.

 

“You taught him Russian?” Steve asks and Peter gets the feeling that a lot of the soldiers' questions sound like he’s suspicious of something. 

 

“Teaching.” Natasha stressed. “He already knows some Italian and he’s in honors Spanish at school. Why not add one more language to the plate?” 

 

Steve hummed in a way that said point taken. But then he looked back to Peter just as the teen put a fry in his mouth. “Italian, though? Tony often said some phrases in that language but I don’t recall Howard ever saying those things.” 

 

“That’s because Howard wasn’t Italian.” Peter said before he could even think. “Maria was, so he grew up speaking English and Italian.” 

 

“He told you that?” Natasha mused. 

 

Peter nodded, suddenly shy from the two sets of eyes on him. “Yeah… he… talked about his mom a lot.” He then cleared his throat and put more pep in his speech. “But anyways, Aunt May is—uh, was, of Italian descent so she spoke a little, too…” Neither Natasha or Steve spoke and Peter continued, dipping his fries into the seasoned sour cream. “And, like, Italian and Spanish are like…” he shrugged. “Eighty percent similar so I kinda signed up cause I already knew some things.”

 

That started a conversation about languages that they already spoke or would like to learn and then it strayed to something entirely different. Peter enjoyed hearing their stories, ones that they were comfortable with sharing in public. 

 

This was nice, being with Natasha when there was no training and getting to know Steve more than he did. The band continued on with their covers of various different songs and this just felt… normal. 

 

But knowing his luck, it was short lived. The singer of the band went to grab a stool and sat center stage, positioning his acoustic guitar properly. Peter knew a few chords by heart but that’s because Gwen was excited to show him a few things back when nothing was… estranged. 

 

“This song is one of my favorites and I always hoped to play it.” The guy said. “Unfortunately you could say that this is too early of a song to play but I kind of find it comforting. Hope you like it.” 

 

The guy started to play his guitar and Peter instantly recognized the song, Dust in the Wind by KANSAS. He brought his straw from his lips, lightly setting the glass back on the table and didn’t even reach for his burger or fries, instead, he just watched.

 

I close my eyes 

Only for a moment, and the moments gone

All my dreams

Pass before my eyes, a curiosity 

 

Dust in the wind

All they are is dust in the wind

 

He noticed that Steve and Natasha weren’t eating either and watched the singer like they were in a trance. This song obviously wasn’t about The Snap, it was released several decades before, but it did send a message and Peter found it difficult to understand. 

 

Same old song

Just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do

Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

 

Dust in the wind 

All we are is dust in the wind 

 

“I think…” Steve murmured to the table. “I need to step outside for a minute.” He didn’t even grab his coat as he got off his seat and started to walk past Natasha to reach the exit. 

 

The spy twisted in her seat. “Steve—”

 

“I’m fine, don't worry.” The soldier said with an unconvincing smile and left the restaurant. Peter honed in on his hearing, listening to see if Steve was alright. All he heard was a sigh and the sound of a hand running down a face before Peter deemed Steve to be okay. He just needed a break, Peter gets it. 

 

Now, don’t hang on

Nothin’ lasts forever but the earth and sky 

It slips away 

And all your money won’t another minute buy 

 

He and Natasha shared a look but neither spoke. Slowly, he looked back at the singer and Peter’s decently surprised that he’s doing okay. Well, not okay exactly but he doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a panic attack. It’s more confusing than relieving. 

 

Dust in the wind 

All we are is dust in the wind

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind 

Everything is dust in the wind 

 

Slowly the stage lights started to turn on to unsheathe the rest of the band mates as they transitioned into their next cover. Natasha didn’t pick up her fork to eat any more of her pasta and Steve’s hoagie looked cold now. Peter’s burger didn’t look appetizing either. 

 

It was only a second later that his spider sense went off and he sat up straight, looking around as subtly as he could. One of the first things Natasha taught him. He did notice that the spy was looking at him with interest, catching on that something’s wrong. But what? He can’t seem to find it. Just then his bracelet started to vibrate, going on and off, then just a constant buzz. He knew keeping the bracelet on would be a good thing.

 

Then it was the TV’s that caught his attention, the various sports channels all switched to one news network with a bright red “Breaking News”. 

 

Two newscasters sat at a table and they looked troubled, speaking but no sound accompanying them until a waitress took a remote and turned it up loudly, the occupants of the bar quieting down to a hush. 

 

“—Goblin was seen flying through the streets once again but this time, there seems to be a hostage situation happening.” The lady said. 

 

The guy beside her continued on. “He sent out a message to our station, a warning for Spider-Man. Viewers at home, please watch with caution, this is disturbing.” 

 

A shaky video replaced the two newscasters and Peter instantly knew it was recorded on a phone. Green Goblin breathed deeply as the high winds made an ugly sound through the phone. He let out a low chuckle before speaking. “Ah, these little phones come in handy, don’t they, Miss Gwendolyn?” 

 

His blood pressure dropped to the point of nonexistence and if he could see himself from anyone else’s eyes, he’s sure he’s gone as white as a ghost, maybe paler! Murmurs filled the restaurant but Peter didn’t pay attention to them. He didn’t even notice Natasha slide out of her seat and jog outside. 

 

He watched as Green Goblin turned the phone around to show Gwen, tied up to an antenna on top of a skyscraper. She was hunched over the chains and her blonde hair moved in the wind like it was water. Her blue eyes wide but while he saw fear, he also saw resistance and he felt pride swell inside him. She’s not letting her fright get the better of her. 

 

He could see goosebumps on her arms and realized with a start that he must’ve taken her when she was practicing at the dance studio. She was wearing a white tank top that matched her tights, and a light blue skirt that was the same color as her pointe shoes. 

 

“You’re very important to that annoying little spider, aren’t you?” Goblin hissed and Peter perked up. What…? There’s no way Goblin knows anything! There’s no way, absolutely no way. “I saw the way he looked at you, the way you looked at him… disgusting.” 

 

“Oh, shit…” Peter swore, moving his eyes from Gwen’s face to the background, trying to see if he could recognize any buildings or signs. He had to get to her.

 

“What…?” Gwen sounded breathless, sounding moments away from her teeth chattering. “I don’t know Spider-Man, I’ve-I’ve only met him once like almost every New Yorker—”

 

A blade was suddenly pointed at Gwen’s neck and she gasped, tensing her entire body as she threw her head back to keep away from the blade and Peter jolted in his seat, rising up off it a little. 

 

Rage was rising in him fast. How dare he go after Gwen. He’ll make him regret it, but that will come after getting Gwen to safety. 

 

“Keep telling lies, girl, and you won’t be telling anyone anything again.” Goblin sneered and that’s when Peter felt Natasha and Steve join his side but he didn’t move, just watched as Gwen swallowed, her neck exposed and her posture straightened. The camera swirled back towards the man and his green mask filled the TV screen, lots of people leaned back. “Tick tock, Spider-Man, her time is running out.” 

 

The video stopped and the two newscasters were seen again but Peter was panicking. Nothing in the background gave away their location, there’s too many skyscrapers in this city, she could be on any one of them, there’s no way he’d find the right one. He’d have to ask Karen, see where that feed was coming from, he can track the phone!

 

“Peter,” Steve’s voice knocked Peter’s attention from the TV and he looked over at the man. “What do you need us to do?” 

 

He wasn’t even sure what he needed to do. He looked between the two Avengers and realized with a start that this is probably what Garrett meant earlier. Yeah, he didn’t ask like Garrett suggested but the two adults were staring at him, waiting to hear what he wanted them to do. They're willing to help, Peter just needs to give the go ahead. 

 

“Uh,” he licked his lips and set himself fully on the ground, the three of them inching towards the exit as discreet as possible. He finds it a little unnecessary as a majority of everyone in the bar was already so preoccupied. “This could get messy, I would appreciate it if you guys could just do damage control. I don’t want any more people to get hurt because of this guy.” 

 

“Just tell us where to go.” Natasha said and Steve followed her to the parked car, Peter divided into an alleyway and changed faster than lightning, immediately taking to the sky and looking around for any signs of Green Goblin. 

 

Karen must’ve patched him through the spy’s car, because he heard Natasha start to speak again, the car's engine accompanied. “What’s the plan? How do you plan on taking him out?” 

 

“I just need to find her.” Peter said, making his body turn in a full circle mid air before continuing going forward, the wind acting as a whip even with his face covered. 

 

“Who is she?” Steve asked.

 

Who is she? Peter couldn’t even properly articulate who, exactly, Gwen is. She’s kind, smart, has a quick mouth but good intentions. She’s someone who cries over animal videos whether they’re happy or sad, always answers her phone within seconds when he texts or calls, has ambitions and dreams bigger than anyone Peter’s ever met. She’s so talented in all she does, Peter can’t help but marvel at her. She is someone who never seems to wear a matching pair of socks but her outfits can’t be anything less than perfect and coordinated. She’s someone who always has bracelets and hair ties around her wrists, her ears constantly decorated in jewelry, someone who got a tongue piercing against her parents wishes just because she was bored. She’s someone who’s never made him doubt himself, someone who smiles like sunshine on water, someone who loves black and white movies and will eat anything, even if those around her hate it. 

 

That doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of who Gwen is, nothing he could say could ever do her justice. 

 

“Karen,” he began, his voice breathless. “Can you track her phone's signal?” 

 

“Right away, Peter.” Her robotic but comforting voice filled his ears instead of the howling wind. He came into contact with a tall skyscraper and planted his feet before him, immediately running up it until he reached the top, launching himself in the air to get an even grander view of New York. 

 

He looked around as he slowly fell back to the earth, the snow falling around him thickly as it casted New York in its blanket, the sky already turning dark as the sun went down but he didn’t care about that right now. He didn’t care that he still can’t really handle the dark, that he still can’t look at the stars without panic twitching his bones, all he cared about was getting Gwen home safely to her grandma. 

 

“Signal found.” Karen spoke and his vision was overcome with coordinates and a digital path to where the phone is. “Would you like me to send the information over to Ms. Romanov and Mr. Rogers?” 

 

“Yeah, yup, yes please.” Peter said, aiming his webs at the strongest point on every building as he swung fast, the coordinates to the left of his vision changing fast as he moved.

 

The sounds of police sirens and lights caught Peter’s attention as that’s where the coordinates led him to. Just as Peter rounded a corner, he saw them. Green Goblin was turned in his direction, floating on his glider as Gwen sat between his legs, her arms still bound and her own legs dangled dangerously, officers and an ambulance below as they looked up with bated breath. He heard Natasha’s car before he saw it, the tires squealing and the engine growling loudly as she swerved the car into view before she and Steve hopped out, joining the officers side. Maybe Steve had a point on her driving… 

 

He stuck himself to the side of a building, Gwen not having heard him as she kept her head down but Peter had speculation that Goblin also has super hearing as well, the villain peeking up before Peter came into view. 

 

“So you did get my message.” Green Goblin sounded like he was smiling under his mask and Gwen picked her head up, staring at Peter with wide eyes. “We were wondering if you watched the news, didn’t we, Miss Gwendolyn?” 

 

The girl didn’t open her mouth, only staring intently at Peter, her body shaking either from the cold or fear.

 

“Good thing, too. Her time was almost up.” Goblin continued, reaching to pet Gwen’s hair and Peter involuntarily took a step forward, clenching his teeth and fists simultaneously.  

 

“Get your hands off her.” He gritted, rising to his full height as he walked in the side of the building. “She has no part in this.” 

 

“Oh, but I think she does.” Goblin sneered, amusement almost leaving his tone. “I can hear your fear, your desperation to get her back.” He bent at his knees behind Gwen and dug his nails into the sides of her shoulders, a pained gasp escaping Gwen. “Let’s see just how committed you are to the bit.” 

 

With that, Goblin zipped into the sky, a yelp leaving Gwen as they shot up like a rocket and Peter wasted no time to follow. He was hot on their heels and noticed that Gwen was now in Green Goblin’s arms, and not very secure.

 

With each twist and turn Goblin took, Peter’s breath hitched as a nervous tingle ran down his spine at the notion of Gwen slipping from Goblin's hold. But the man must’ve been doing it on purpose because each time, he’d peer over his shoulder at Peter and giggled. 

 

Oh, he is going down. 

 

“Got to keep up, Spider-Man!” Greenie laughed and he tore off Gwen’s chains, throwing them in Peter's direction. A quick dodge later and Peter was still chasing them in a demented game of Cat and Mouse. 

 

“Goblin, stop!” He yelled. “Put her down!” 

 

But Green Goblin didn’t stop until he was hovering above a clock tower that Peter didn’t even register seeing until he was standing on top of it, directly below Goblin and Gwen. He could hear Gwen’s frantic breathing and pounding heart, Goblin’s merciless laugh. 

 

“Put her down?” Goblin chuckled darkly. “Well, if you say so.” 

 

Peter didn’t even have a chance to yell when Goblin suddenly dropped his arms and Gwen fell, her gasp filled the silent air as Peter tensed his legs and jumped as high as he could, his arms reaching out for her. It was like he was moving in slow motion as they got closer to one another, and he grasped her arm and shoulder and turned her around to face him, making sure to wrap her in his arms properly because this could get even worse. 

 

He pressed her to his chest protectively, caging her in his arms as they let gravity take over. The snow on the glass dome made him slip as he reconnected with the surface and the two crashed through, shards raining in with them before he turned one last time to take the brunt of the fall as they landed on a catwalk.

 

He groaned but held Gwen tightly. “Are you okay?”

 

She shook her head rapidly, muttering “uh-uh” over and over as she pressed her head in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak again but then his sixth sense picked up and when he looked up he saw Green Goblin hovering over the broken skylight and he slowly brought out a bomb from his belt and pressed its middle, dropping it over Peter and Gwen. 

 

He turned his body just in time as the bomb went off, part of the catwalk collapsed and Peter quickly stuck to the part that was still connected to the wall of the tower, reaching out to catch Gwen as she fell. Below her were the clock tower's gears, spinning slowly to signify the seconds passing. “I gotcha, I gotcha, Gwen.” He hoped he sounded soothing to her and she clutched his hand with a power he didn’t know she had. “Don’t worry.” 

 

If he can just lower her down there, she could walk across and get to the stairs that lined the building and she can escape unscathed. She looked up at him and was panting and making noises of distress, her legs slightly kicking. 

 

“I’m going to lower you right down there, okay?” He didn’t wait for her confirmation and let go of her hand, a small shriek erupting from her at the movement but he quickly stuck a web to her hand and slowly lowered her. Once her feet made contact with the still functional parts of the clock tower, he saw her jolt a little before doing exactly what he planned.

 

Unfortunately he couldn’t see it happen as Green Goblin flew through the broken glass and collided with Peter, both of them smashing into the side of the stone wall. Peter felt it crumble down his back before his senses returned to him and he kicked Goblin away, flipping from one end of the room to the other, connecting webs randomly from ceiling to railing. 

 

At least, he figures it looks random to anyone but him. If he can time his attacks just right, one small pull of a web can form into a makeshift prison and hold Goblin until the proper authorities arrive. Then this whole mess will be over and Peter can continue to live… somewhat normally. 

 

But first, he had to buy Gwen some time. 

 

He zipped around and he knew Greenie was chasing him and he may have put a little effort into being a little entertaining. He used his web’s as part of his performance until he deemed it time to really start the fight. 

 

He launched himself in the air and turned around to face Green Goblin, connecting a web to the man’s chest plate and throwing himself at the psychopath, throwing punch after punch as he locked Goblin’s head with his legs, a classic move Natasha taught many months ago. 

 

Goblin laughed and laughed with each punch Peter threw and honestly, he was getting a little frustrated. How can this man just laugh? A small part of Peter wanted the man to start begging for the assault to stop. But this is what he gets for kidnapping Gwen, for destroying the town, almost killing Harley and his classmates, for the nightmares and doubts, for the anger and pain! 

 

In a flash, Peter moved to be on Goblin’s back, and shot a web to his other hand and used that as a suffocation tactic. Peter isn’t aiming to kill, just to sedate. But, Peter thought darkly, if he were to die…

 

He didn’t finish his thought as Goblin’s laughter turned into choking, his hands going up to the web but was unsuccessful in ripping it. Once more, Goblin moved backwards and slammed Peter into the wall but he wasn't phased, it was like he was solely focused on finally taking this clown down. He couldn’t feel his body hurt at all and Peter wanted it to stay that way. 

 

He stomped down on the Goblin’s homemade hoverboard and used his other leg to knee the man in the stomach. The air was knocked out of Green Goblin and as he leaned over to catch his breath, Peter used that to his advantage. He uppercut the man hard and he went flying back, his glider following from the force. 

 

Green Goblin smacked hard into a catwalk below, farthest from where Gwen was still struggling to make her way to the closest stair. Unfortunately when Goblin went one way, his glide went another and the hunk of metal collapsed on the mechanisms that Gwen was on which destroyed the framework and Gwen screamed as she was suddenly free falling with nuts and bolts and metal and wheels. 

 

“No!” Peter yelled as he dropped down to a different piece of machinery and shot out a web that connected to Gwen’s back. The blonde was frozen in midair several feet below him and raised her arms above her head to grab onto the thin web that was stopping her from her death. “I got you, I got you,” he repeated as he pulled on the web, effortlessly bringing her closer to him and farther from death. “I got you, Gwen, it’s alright.” 

 

She didn’t speak, only stared up at him with wide eyes and trembling lips. Her chest was rising fast and he wanted to tear off his mask so she could look at him and not the white eyes of his mask. 

 

When she was a little more than halfway up to him, his spidey sense flared and Goblin was running at him, his arms outstretched and his claws gripping plunging into Peter’s throat. He gargled as he felt blood rush down his chest and his suit being torn apart. 

 

“Immediate medical attention required.” Karen spoke, almost worriedly. 

 

He held tight to the web that held Gwen’s life as Goblin slammed Peter down, which caused the web to drop. A startled yelp came from below him and Peter struggled to get the villain off him. His knife-like claws dug deeper into Peter’s jugular and as he raised his arm that held the web, Goblin slammed his foot down on Peter’s arm. 

 

No, no, he has to finish this!

 

The gear the two were on must’ve been for the minute hand because it suddenly turned to Peter’s left and he felt the web swing dramatically. He gasped and tried to punch Goblin with his free hand but was quickly intercepted. He was completely stuck. 

 

“Oh, ho, ho!” Goblin howled, getting fad too close to Peter’s face. “This is so beguiling! Finally! The spider falls from its web, losing its prey as well!” His laughter ceased into a dangerous whisper. “Don’t worry, Peter, I’ll make sure your story is told.”

 

Just like in the bar and grill, Peter didn’t dwell on that revelation, he couldn’t afford to. A quick headbutt later, Peter shot a web through a hole of a gear that was behind Goblin and used the string to wrap around Goblin’s neck. The man struggled as his body was being forced back and as that gear turned, the farther back Goblin’s head went. But his grip was still strong until that gear turned again and his hands were forced to retreat from Peter’s neck as he became stiff from the strangelation.  

 

He gasped as he felt himself move again and the web swung once more. He turned his head to see a stray metal bar fall off a gearwheel from the movement. It fell and it managed to hit Gwen’s foot, once more causing her to move and he heard a sniffle.

 

But then that’s when he noticed a horrifying fact. 

 

Her web was between two tooth profiles of a wheel. One more tick and two gear wheels will connect and the web would be cut. 

 

And that tick was seconds away. 

 

Not giving it a second thought, Peter found which gears would connect with the ones down below and he put his foot between them, feeling the machinery shake and try to do as it’s made to. But Goblin was still on top of him, his bleeding has slowed, and Gwen’s life depends on a sticky string that was connected to her back. 

 

This is so fucking peachy. 

 

The buzz at the base of his neck grew even stronger and he looked at the gears that his foot was in with wide eyes. Sparks flung and the mechanisms groaned as a pole shot out of the gears and suddenly all he heard was that web snip and a terrified gasp coming from the girl below. The web suddenly weighed nothing. 

 

“Peter!” 

Notes:

tehehe

Chapter 20

Notes:

HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE
(I didn’t want you guys to suffer anymore😉)

Gravity was always a little foe to Peter. Don’t get him wrong, he loved free falling and letting the rush of catching himself last minute take over his body. But sometimes, he hates it. 

 

Like when he gets distracted because he saw a dog (or two, sometimes a cat) in an apartment and accidentally misses his target and gets whacked by a billboard. Or when tripping occurs (that’s right, even Spider-Man gets tripped by a cracked sidewalk), and he just doesn’t catch himself in time. 

 

But he loves the science behind it! It’s the general theory of relativity, and every object that has mass will attract every other object with mass; the more it has, the greater gravity. Honestly it’s cool, call Peter a nerd, he doesn’t care. 

 

It’s definitely a love-hate relationship, usually he’s content to keep it that way, but right now? He hates it more than ever. 

 

The inside of the clock tower caved in with groans and crashes, as sparks flung from the steel of the clock tower and it rained down on him as beams and poles, gears and bolts all fell from below Peter. 

 

Gwen was among them. 

 

The web that Peter wrapped around Goblin’s throat tugged hard and the man was thrown back into the wall with a loud crash, parts of the tower falling onto the man who was completely unconscious but Peter didn’t care anymore about the man. 

 

Peter turned on his stomach and dived off the gear without wasting a second, his eyes never leaving Gwen’s. Tears were in her eyes as her hair whipped at her face, her silk skirt fluttering prettily during such a tragic scene. One of her arms was stretched out towards him but he was still too far away. 

 

If he connected a web to her limb like this, he may as well tear her arm clean off. He had to get closer to her, doing anything besides that will kill her. 

 

He flung beams out of his way and used other things to propel himself closer to her. The ground got closer and closer but he didn’t give up. He pushed himself off a falling gear and he was ever so closer to her now. 

 

But then he saw it. 

 

The arm that she had reached out towards him was holding the end of the web that was still connected to her back, and through her tears, he saw her wordlessly pleading to get with the program. 

 

“Karen,” he huffed. “Target lock on that web.” 

 

He didn’t wait for a confirmation and shot out a new web so fast, it might’ve given him whiplash. The red target turned green in his vision as the two webs connected. Yes!

 

He can save her, he’s sure of it!

 

He pushed himself against one last beam with all his might and felt himself travel faster in the air than he had previously and pulled against the web at the same time. Gwen turned midair as he pulled the web that was stuck to her back and she’s suddenly in his arms again, grunting as her back was slammed into his chest and he turned her around so they were chest to chest and he held her so tightly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he accidentally bruised her ribs.  

 

He wasted no time on shooting a web to a secure structure of the clock tower and all of a sudden, they were the only ones in the air, completely suspended while everything else had already met the ground with loud bangs. 

 

Gwen wheezed as she gripped onto him hard, her nails digging into his skin through his suit and pressed her face into his shoulder with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He heard himself sigh deeply in relief and hugged her back with such strength this time, he felt her struggle to breath a little, his cheek falling on top of her head. 

 

She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay. 

 

“Peter,” he heard her shakily whisper and he reeled his head back to stare at her, his mouth slightly agape. He wasn’t even too sure if she did scream his name earlier or if it was just in his head from the adrenaline. But now, he can’t believe he didn’t pick up on it sooner. Of course she figured it out, just as I said she would. “P-Peter… I-I… I don’t—”

 

“It’s okay, I got you.” He whispered, slowly lowering themselves to the ground and Gwen stumbled into him a little bit as their feet touched concrete. “Are you okay?” He asks her, his hands running through her hair and down her arms, only to come back up to cradle her face in shaky hands. Or she was the one trembling. Maybe we both are. “Are you hurt?” 

 

“No, no, no, no,” she gasped out fast, a trembling smile forming on her round lips. “I’m fine, I’m totally fine! Yeah, no, no, I’m f-fine.” She rasped out a laugh, and Peter felt her own hands clutch his forearms. 

 

“Are you sure? You’re really pale.” He noticed. Her entire body was quivering and her lips lost their color as well. “You keep repeating yourself. You look like you’re going to pass out.” 

 

“Oh…” she squeaked out like she was entirely shocked by such an observation. “Y-Yeah, you might want to catch me.” And that’s when her legs gave out, slamming into Peter full force. But he caught her and lowered both of them to the ground, holding her close and tight to him, taking his mask off and haphazardly throwing it to the ground.

 

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” He heard himself whisper to her, not even bothering to feel embarrassed when he started to place kisses on her head, moving to her forehead and cheeks, nose and jaw. He was just so relieved. She held onto him tightly and kept her eyes closed, trying to get her breathing under control as her ear was pressed to Peter’s heart. “You’re okay.” 

 

He looked down at her as she opened her eyes again, and Peter was glad to see some color return to her face, her cheeks turning rosy again. “Thank you.” She whispered. “And I-I’m sorry.” 

 

He only cocked his head to the side but he didn’t say anything and she must’ve taken that as her cue to keep going.  

 

“I’m sorry that I was so petty about H-Halloween and I’m sor-sorry, Peter, I—”

 

He quickly shushed her, carding his hand through her hair and tears began to slide down her cheeks. “Gwen—”

 

She reached up and took him in a bone crushing hug, still repeating her apologies and he returned the action instantly. There was nothing Gwen needed to apologize for, absolutely nothing but he knew she’d just ignore him if he tried to interrupt again so he settled for squeezing her tightly and letting her prattle on. But there was one sentence she said that peaked his hearing and it made him pull his head away from her just enough to look at her face. 

 

“I forgive you.” 

 

Following the trend of not really thinking tonight, he crashed his lips into Gwen’s and while she squeaked in surprise, she wasted no time at all to recuperate. Her lips moved against his and he felt like on cloud nine, it was like fireworks went off around them (as cliche as it sounds) and Peter couldn’t seem to keep her close enough. One of his hands cupped the back of her head while the other was planted firmly on her waist, subconsciously massaging it. 

 

Her own hands flew to his hair and he sighed. This was a long time coming. He can’t believe he hasn’t done this sooner, his heart pounded and he wanted to jump around with… excitement? Anxiety? He was kissing a girl for the first time, of course he felt anxious! 

 

She just felt… right in his hold, like he was a puzzle and she was his missing piece that he’s been needing all along, and he did not want to let her go. Ever.  

 

She still shook in his hold and he could taste a bit of strawberry as he kissed her and if this is how she always tasted, he’ll admittedly have a hard time not kissing her. He almost chuckled to himself over that little thought, but her lips on his felt much more important than a laugh.

 

Gwen pulled away first but Peter wasn’t done. As she was trying to catch her breath, he kept pressing short kisses to her mouth which made her start to giggle until she caught up with him again and that first kiss they had, the fire he felt, was different from this one. It was slower, and he breathed her in as she molded herself more into his body. This one was calming, sweet, reassuring. 

 

Like they were both just happy to be with each other, safe and sound. 

 

That's how he intends to keep it. 

Notes:

(another chapter will be posted tomorrow)

Chapter 21

It’s been a total of two days since Gwen almost died, two days since Green Goblin was captured by SHIELD and held captive in one of their more secure cells, and two days since he was revealed to be Norman Osborn. 

 

There was obviously something wrong with the man, it was like he was being controlled or having an identity crisis because he switches up between Norman and Goblin so much it’s a little upsetting to watch. 

 

Natasha and Steve had called in SHIELD reinforcements while he and Gwen were suspended in the air and they had only shown up after their… kissing had ended. 

 

That’s still just so surreal to think about. He kissed Gwen! Gwen kissed him! It was something so… electrifying and he couldn’t get enough. But unfortunately he had to break them apart and tug on his mask as he heard the agents approach and helped them apprehend Green Goblin while paramedics took Gwen outside and wrapped her in a shock blanket while an officer took her statement. 

 

Mrs. Pase was there too and engulfed Gwen in a huge hug and wrapped a jacket around the blonde. Peter heard the older woman fussing about the cold and how sick Gwen will get. 

 

He smiles a little at the memory, just happy that he could get Gwen out of there safely, like he had been aiming to do all that night. Her heart was still beating, her lips were still smiling, her eyes still blinking. It was the greatest relief Peter had ever felt. 

 

But now he stood in front of a one-way mirror, staring into Goblin’s cell as some SHIELD agents moved around behind him, having confiscated Norman’s lab a few days ago and taken samples of all the chemicals and substances the man had. 

 

“Spider-Man,” an agent approached the teen and held a small tablet, a paused video on the screen. “Romanov told me to show you this.” 

 

He took the tablet and pressed play, watching as grainy security footage captured Norman walking into his lab with a guy trailing after him, carrying folders and stacks of paperwork. 

 

He frowned a little as there was no sound accompanying the footage but saw the way Norman walked over to a human sized glass compartment that looked like a modernized version of what Steve was put in when he got his enhanced serum, holding neon green vials. He was silently talking to the other scientist and the smaller man looked nervous, even shaking his head a few times and Norman visibly waving him off. 

 

He put the vials in little slots of the machine that were poking out and Peter watched as they were slowly put back in place, the machinery looking sleek instead of bulky.

 

He tugged his shirt off and put himself in the chamber and the glass door slid shut. Large needles protruded from the inside of the walls and Peter saw Norman wince as they all plunged into all sections of Norman’s arms, from the shoulder all the way to the wrist.  

 

Ouch… Peter tried not to grimace but good thing he was still wearing his mask, he was free to make any kind of facial expressions he pleased to, all the agents would see are his mechanical eyes moving. 

 

It was when the vials were halfway gone did things go wrong. Norman began to shake uncontrollably and the machine suddenly started to spark and smoke and the green vials blew up in Norman’s face. 

 

Peter’s mouth fell open as Norman vanished from the green smoke being locked in the chamber with him and the little scientist man was running around the room, flipping switches and pressing buttons but nothing seemed to work to open the compartment or remove the gas. 

 

Red lights started to flash around the room and Peter got the impression that sirens were probably going off. Then all of a sudden, the glass door opened and Norman stumbled out, falling to his knees. His assistant rushed to Norman’s side and tentatively pressed a hand to his back which must’ve triggered something in Norman because the man latched a hand in his assistant's throat and got to his feet, lifting the shorter man in the air. 

 

The assistant kicked weakly but Peter just couldn’t look away from Norman’s face, nothing short of pure rage, evil, even. He looked completely different from when Peter was introduced to him on the steps of Midtown, so unlike the collected and even suave expression he had just days earlier. 

 

Norman gripped the man’s throat a little harder and the kicking legs stopped their movement and he was limp. Norman bared his teeth and threw the man at a wall, knocking over models and a cabinet of liquids that soon erupted into flames. The sprinklers were then set off and the footage stopped. 

 

Peter lowered the tablet a bit and looked back in the cell that held Norman, wearing white scrubs instead of a fancy suit or goblin attire, staring straight into the one-way mirror with no clear thought behind his eyes.

 

He quietly thanked the agent as he handed the tablet back and walked closer to the cell, his mind running wildly. There has to be a cure, this can’t just be a… one way ticket for Norman. In Peter’s experience, every reaction was an opposite, a little like Newton’s Laws but with a smidge of Peter flare. 

 

And it all starts with getting a sample of Norman’s blood. 

 

He felt Natasha stand next to him before the red head spoke. “What's going on in that brain of yours?” 

 

He made sure to match his quiet tone with hers, never once taking his eyes off Norman. “Think you could get everyone to clear out?” 

 

“What are you going to do, Spidey?” He turned slightly in her direction at the edge in her tone and noticed the hard look in her eyes. 

 

He crossed his arms loosely over his chest, lightly shrugging. “Ya know… talk to him? He knows who I am, I just… this is important.” 

 

Natasha only blinked before turning on her heel and directing everyone to step out with her. Once that door was shut, Peter looked back at Norman, but directed his next request to Karen. “Do you think you could put his security footage on repeat?” The last thing he needed was for other SHIELD personnel to know who he is. “Like, loop it?” 

 

A small screen filtered in on the right side of his vision, showing what the camera in Norman’s cell sees. “Are you sure you’d like to proceed with this action, Peter?” 

 

“Since when have you ever questioned my jurisdiction?” He asked with a laugh. 

 

“I do believe that’s all I’ve ever done.” Karen responded, sounding amused and Peter laughed again. “You do make questionable decisions.” 

 

“Touché.” He nodded but saw that the camera feed was looped with a green "confirmation” below the footage. “Make sure SHIELD can’t detect looping, please.” 

 

“Certainly, Peter.” And with that Peter tugged off his mask and held it tightly in his hand as he walked to the door, and he was hesitant. Facing this guy while masked was one thing, but maskless…? 

 

Peter sighed to calm his slightly racing heart and pushed through the door, Norman still not moving. He was just staring at his reflection, and Peter suddenly felt like he was a little kid about to tell his dad he scratched his dads favorite collectible car. 

 

“Mr. Osborn?” He tried, licking his lips and slowly walking over to a chair that was in the corner. “Mr. Osborn, can you hear me?” 

 

“Peter Parker…” Norman’s lips curved into a sinister smile but his eyes didn’t leave the mirror. “Finally,” he slowly turned his head to stare his eyes directly into Peter‘s and the teen had to fight the urge to recoil. “We’re face to face.” 

 

“Does Harry know?” 

 

He’s not sure why that was his first question, it hadn’t even been on the list of those he wanted to ask. But his friend, who is charismatic and cocky but funny and kind all at once, couldn’t have any idea of what his father was doing. Right? Harry must be in the dark about this as well. 

 

He quietly berated himself, Natasha would definitely make him train harder and longer if she was around to witness his slip up. He didn’t even think, it just burst out of him like it was fire. 

 

Norman’s face twisted until it showed sadness, almost regret. “Harry…?” His eyes looked around widely and his legs tensed. “Where am I? Where’s my son?” Peter didn’t get the chance to open his mouth as Norman continued. “Who are you? Let me out!” 

 

“Mr. Osborn—” Peter tried. 

 

“I don't understand.” Norman breathed heavily, looking at Peter again but his voice lowering down into mumbles. “It’s like I-I black out or something, I do things I can’t remember or I lose time entirely—”

 

Wait a minute. “Mr. Osborn, do you know who I am?” Peter asked, standing up with Norman. The man only stared at Peter with wide eyes so Peter tried again. “I’m Harry’s friend from school.” 

 

“…school?” The man repeated and Peter was honestly just floored. This man has missed out on months of his life. How much does he think is just dreams or weird memories? “You’re dressed as that Spider-Man fellow.” 

 

Peter only licked his lips and watched as Norman seemed to have an internal battle with himself, his mind running wild behind strange eyes. That’s okay, Peter can wait while the man tries to sort everything out. “What do you remember?” 

 

“Bits and pieces,” Norman responded. “Nothing extraordinary.” He squinted at Peter and slowly nodded. “Your face is starting to look more familiar to me… along with this blonde girl…?” 

 

Peter tried not to let irritation boil within him at Gwen’s mention. As far as Peter’s learned, Norman and Green Goblin are within the same body but two different beings. Norman technically isn’t at fault for almost killing Gwen. But that doesn’t help Peter one bit, they still share the same face, voice, eyes. It’ll take a lot of Peter’s patience to not snap. 

 

“I… hurt people, didn’t I?” Norman asked. “He tells me things and I just… he takes over and I have no recollection.” 

 

That peaked Peter’s interest. “What does he tell you?” 

 

“That people are out to get me.” Norman responds quietly, like he was trying to solve a problem. “That they wish to ruin me and if they try, I must show them who’s boss.” His voice lowered and Peter stayed quiet. “That I have to hurt them.” 

 

“Mr. Osborn,” Peter begins, slowly walking towards the man and lowering him back down to the bed. Peter crouched a good feet away from Norman but didn’t break eye contact. “I’m going to help you. I just need a sample of your blood, to get rid of Green Goblin,” he pulled a small syringe out of his cartridge belt. “I just need your arm.” 

 

Norman didn’t react at first but slowly nodded, offering his arm for Peter to stick the needle into the crook of his elbow. After drawing a little blood, Peter thanked the man and got to his feet once more. 

 

“You should be free of him soon, I promise.” He smiled but then goosebumps rose on his skin and his smile fell, watching Norman’s expression. It didn’t change at all but there was something behind his eyes that Peter didn’t like. 

 

“You wish to rid me of him.” Norman said and his voice wasn’t as nervous as it was before, instead it was smooth and hard. “Peter Parker, you have big goals but I don’t see how you can accomplish them.” 

 

Peter didn’t like the idea of staying and entertaining Green Goblin so instead, he turned on his heel and left the cell, his hearing picking up on Norman’s shouts. “You won’t succeed! I am a disease that no one can cure! You try to get rid of me, Norman will be the one lost, forever!” 

 

Tugging his mask back on and telling Karen to cut the loop, he put the syringe in a small baggy and placed it in a locked cabinet, exiting the room with Green Goblin threatening to skewer him with his glider and unhinged laughter. 

 

---

 

Peter stood on the little porch of Gwen and Daphne’s home, unsure how to go about things. Ever since he saved Gwen, the two haven’t had an opportunity to really talk. He wanted to give her a little space to help cope with what happened to her and he was a little busy with Norman. 

 

But now, a few hours after he left Norman, as he stands in front of this white door, he suddenly lost all the confidence he had earlier. He had a plan: knock on Gwen’s front door, ask to speak to her, talk. 

 

Honestly, it seemed pretty simple to Peter. 

 

Not anymore. 

 

He hesitated, raising his hand to knock but then dropping it. Then figured maybe he should ring the doorbell. But that didn’t seem good, either. 

 

He sighed to himself and dropped down to sit on the stairs and he ran a hand through his hair, staring intently at the sidewalk. How is there a good way to go about this? Sorry I almost got you killed because you’re associated with me! Also, did you only kiss me because you knew I was Spider-Man? 

 

He's pretty sure that’s not true, but he’s nervous! 

 

“Peter.” He shot his head up to look back at the house, seeing Gwen stick her head out of the upstairs living room window that faced the street. “What are you doing?” 

 

“Uh,” he said, oh so awesomely. “Do you think we could… talk?” 

 

She softly smiled and nodded, shutting the window and he heard her rush down the stairs. He got to his feet just as Gwen opened the door and she welcomed him in. He looked around the living room and didn’t hear another heartbeat. Daphne must be out. 

 

He turned to watch as she shut the door and when she looked back at him, he officially threw his plan out the window. He didn’t even think as he surged forward and brought Gwen into a bone crushing hug. He still can’t believe she’s here. That he didn’t fail another person. 

 

Gwen hugged him back and the two stayed that way for a while, though Peter didn’t notice. She smelled like she was freshly showered (vanilla and something else that Peter couldn’t put his finger on) and she was wearing comfortable looking clothes, and Peter remembered with a start that he still had her sweatpants. Oops. 

 

“I’m sorry.” He heard himself say, though it wasn’t for the forgotten sweatpants. It was for all the terror she went through, the way she was so scared but she was brave and he was so proud of her. “You… you were amazing.” 

 

She pushed away from him slightly but her eyes didn’t meet his, staring at his shoulder. “You saved me.” She said and her eyes slowly focused on his. “I wouldn’t be here right now if you weren’t there.” 

 

“You shouldn’t have needed saving.” He said, lightly running his hand up and down her arm. “Goblin—he had no right to take you.” 

 

“But he did, and you were there, and I’m still here.” Gwen smiled, and Peter marveled at how put together she is. She shouldn’t be so nonchalant about almost dying. “He knows who you are, Peter.” 

 

He would’ve been more concerned over that fact if all of yesterday hadn’t happened. Norman was still being investigated and watched by SHIELD and that’s good enough for Peter, because now it’s all about Gwen. 

 

“You do, too.” He said and his smile grew as she shyly looked away from him, stepping out his hold and Peter realized with a start that they were both just kinda standing in the entrance still. She plopped herself down on the sectional and patted for Peter to sit next to her, toying with the remote for the TV that was still off. 

 

He sat down next to her and watched as she moved her thumb over all the various buttons the little remote had, never once gliding over the power button. 

 

“I,” Gwen began after a moment. “Always thought you were weird.” Ouch. “But I liked that. I didn’t want a boring friend.” Does that count for a double ouch? “I knew you had many secrets and I respected the privacy of them, I didn’t want to lose you because I’m nosey.” 

 

He snorted at that. Yeah, he knew Gwen wasn’t happy per say that he didn’t tell her a lot of things but he did really appreciate her effort to remain cool and collected about them. 

 

“Stop laughing, we’re having serious time.” She chastised lightly, and he saw how she struggled to keep a smile off her lips. “Anyways, it wasn’t until after Gobbo’s first attack that I realized.” 

 

Wait… was it before they almost kissed or after? Honestly, he’s just proud of himself thinking back on that day with a straight face. “You mean—”

 

“After we almost… ya know.” Gwen nodded, looking back down at the remote. “Uhm, anyways, Grandma and I talked about what had happened and I mentioned how you ran off and then, ya know, Spider-Man swooped in and that was… that was when I knew.” 

 

Ooh. Everything fell into place for her that day. That’s why she became less intrigued about his secrets and why she just rolled with the punches, because she knew that it had something to do with Spider-Man. And he was so sure she had no idea. He feels dumb. 

 

“Plus, ya know, you hang out with Black Widow and I’m pretty sure Pepper Potts is your adopted mom.” 

 

He laughed and dropped his head down, leaving back into the seat of the couch. Wow! He is just blown away by his own obliviousness and her attentiveness. 

 

“You impress me, you know?” He said with a laugh. 

 

“What?” She chuckled, almost as nervously as he did. 

 

“You’re just…” he leaned a little closer to her and was a little happy that her eyes widened and her smile fell. “Too smart. I knew you would figure it out.” 

 

“Oh,” she whispered, not looking away. “I mean, you’re not very careful.” 

 

“I’m careful.” He shrugged, leaning back. “Maybe you’re just a stalker?” 

 

“Peter!” She laughed, throwing a pillow at him. “You just said I’m smart, what happened to that?” 

 

Catching the pillow, he tossed it farther away from him. The two settled into silence as they got closer to each other, sitting shoulder to shoulder. Peter gnawed on his bottom lip and he tried to find the courage to ask this one specific question, but he didn’t want to. He was scared. 

 

Pepper would tell him to just go for it, he won’t know unless he asks. That’s her motto whenever he brought up doubts about running Stark Industries. “Honey, you won’t know unless you ask. You won’t know unless you try. And you won’t know until you do.” 

 

So he took a deep breath and blurted it out. 

 

“Did you only kiss me because you knew I was Spider-Man?” 

 

Gwen must’ve taken great offense to that question because she looked at him like she insulted everything about her and her family. Which he would never do, of course! But she looked a little angry at that question. 

 

“Peter,” she took his hand suddenly and he was a little ashamed to admit that he felt his face grow hot. “I love that you’re Spider-Man. You have all this love and you’re so fearless, even when you are scared. But I love…” and just like that, she bit her tongue and both their eyes got wide at the same time. He silently hoped she’d continue on with her sentence, he needed to hear her say it. But her own face spouted like red roses and she looked away from him. Her hand still held on strong. Quietly, very quietly, she continued on. “Peter Parker more.” 

 

“You—” he swallowed and she bolted up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, he was up no second later. “Could you repeat that?” 

 

“Nope!” She said a little too loudly but he saw how she refused to look at him as she looked in the fridge, and he was smiling so hard it hurt his cheeks. 

 

“Come on!” He urged and again, she declined. He followed her around the kitchen while she got herself a glass down from the cabinet and he tugged her arm gently to spin her around to be chest to chest with him. 

 

Laughing, he dipped down to press his lips to hers once more and she put up zero fight to push him away, only molding herself into him in return. This wasn’t like their first, or even second. This kiss had no scary message behind it, only something of peace. 

 

They moved their lips and he felt her hands travel up his shoulders while his stayed on her hips, not daring to go any farther than that. 

 

This was a confirmation to what they’ve both been feeling, mutual relations and hope for more. 

 

She broke away first and gasped for breath and Peter didn’t even realize how long they kissed for, only knowing he was just fine. She gripped his shoulders and he noticed with slight smugness just how flushed she was and how red her already plump lips are. 

 

“Does this mean—?” She said breathlessly. 

 

She didn’t even need to finish her sentence. “It can.” He responded, taking one of her hands off his shoulders to hold it gently on his own. “I would like to be.” 

 

“Me too.” She smiled, squeezing his hand and his heart soared as she reached up to press her lips to his once more, but was a smidge disappointed when it was just a simple peck. 

 

“One thing, though.” He said, looking at their intertwined hands. “Let’s maybe… not tell my family all at once? Not yet? They’ll be relentless.” 

 

“How can I tell them if I don’t know them?” She asked with an eyebrow raise and Peter only smiled innocently, and Gwen gasped. “You’re going to introduce me!” It wasn’t a question. 

 

“Maybe tonight? If you’d like?” Peter tightened his grip on her hand and she pulled away only to fling herself back at him. “Pepper has been asking about you.” 

 

Gwen stilled and her mouth dropped open. “Pepper Pott’s asks about me? Woah.” She started to jump and she let go of his hand, racing for the stairs. “This is so surreal, I have to go change!” 

 

She left Peter downstairs and he chuckled at the idea of Gwen being more excited to meet his mom than anything else. Though, he thinks, it’s totally understandable, he was geeking out the first time he met Pepper, too. 

 

After shooting Pepper a quick text and half an hour later, he and Gwen were on the road to the cabin and she was practically jumping in her seat at the idea of finally getting to know his family, no matter how small. 

 

In no time, they were pulling into the long driveway and he could see Millie perking up, her ears alert as she stared at the moving car until she booked it in their direction, barking excitedly around the car. 

 

“Oh, Millie!” Gwen cooed and waved out the window, the glass fogging up from her breathing. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” 

 

“Still can’t hear you.” Peter smiled. 

 

“Still don’t care.” Gwen said, her tone not changing from the high pitch it’s been while she talked to Millie. 

 

Pulling closer to the house, it sure was a sight out of a classic Christmas movie. They didn’t have any Christmas decor up yet, but with the way the sky was a dark blue behind the house as its warm lighting shined through the windows while white sparkles fell from the sky, it was a comforting scene. 

 

Gwen hopped out of the car immediately as Peter parked it and she was once again assaulted by Millie as the golden retriever jumped around her, knocking into Gwen’s legs with her wiggling butt and tail, barking and panting. 

 

“Hello, Millie!” Gwen laughed, bending down to try to pet the dog that was going absolutely crazy. “Hi, sweet girl!” 

 

Millie raced around Peter and sat down on his foot before getting up to do the same thing to Gwen. “Hey, Mill.” Peter chuckled, reaching to pet her head before offering a hand to Gwen. 

 

The girl took it and together, they both walked up the steps of the porch, the very same one they sat in when they were working on their project for physics a couple months ago. Kind of strange how much has changed since then. 

 

Pushing the door open, the scent of a burning candle clouded Peter’s senses for a moment, warm lights from the living room and kitchen lightening the small entrance. 

 

He watched as Gwen’s mouth dropped a little and looked around in wonder. He noticed her eyes linger on the adoption certificates placed along the stairs and the school pictures that Pepper hung up in the dining area, the little bits of the place that made it a home. 

 

“Wow,” Gwen muttered, sliding her shoes off and hanging her coat up on the hanger before walking a little further into the house. “This place is beautiful.” 

 

“I’m happy you like it.” 

 

Gwen squeaked before turning around again and staring wide eyed at Pepper as the woman exited the kitchen, a little bowl of grapes in her hand. Peter watched in amusement as the blonde opened and closed her mouth, no words escaping as she stared at Pepper. 

 

“It is so nice to finally meet you,” Pepper handed her bowl to Peter and offered her hand to the blonde. “I was wondering when Pete would bring you around.” 

 

“You have? Really?” Gwen slowly took Pepper’s hand and her arm flailed a little as Pepper shook it. “I—that’s—really?” 

 

Pepper laughed and nodded, taking her bowl back and Peter watched silently as the two interacted. With her free hand, Pepper placed it on Gwen’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Of course. Meeting anyone that Peter calls his friend is always a pleasure. Why don’t we sit down?” 

 

She steered Gwen over to the main dining table, flicking on the chandler that hung over the table. Peter watched for a second before turning around to look out the door again, seeing Millie sniff and run. It was getting darker and colder, he should probably bring her inside. Opening the door, he called for the dog and got a towel ready to dry her paws. 

 

Millie booked it towards him and tried to run past him to Gwen but he caught her, laughing victoriously as he wiped her paws clean of the snow. Her whole body was shaking with excitement as she had her sights set on Gwen, itching closer and closer and Peter chuckled, struggling to finish cleaning her paws. 

 

But soon enough, her paws were dry and he muttered her release word and the dog took off, jumping on Gwen and licking her face. 

 

“Oh, Millie!” Pepper chastised, grabbing hold on the dog's collar. Peter kept his mouth shut as he joined the women at the table, sitting next to Gwen but across from Pepper. Millie does know better than to jump on people, it was something Peter trained out of her right away. But the girl was just too excited to see Gwen. Honestly, Peter could relate. 

 

“She’s just happy.” Peter said. “She hasn’t seen you in so long.” 

 

“I missed you too.” Gwen whispered to the dog as Millie was glued to the girl's leg, enjoying the soft pets Gwen was giving her. 

 

“Next time, I’ll make sure she doesn’t jump.” Peter said, looking at Pepper as he did so. It was kind of embarrassing. 

 

“Good.” Pepper offered a grape to the two before popping one in her mouth, looking back and forth between him and Gwen with a slight quirk to her eyebrow. If Peter was in a movie, he’d start to feel sweaty. “So I can only assume that, since you’re here, secrets have been shared?” 

 

He and Gwen met each other's eyes but otherwise didn’t move. Slowly, a grin formed on Gwen’s lips and he mirrored her, looking back at Pepper as he crossed his arms and leaned them on the table. “Uh, well, more like she figured it out.” 

 

Pepper hummed and looked at Gwen with interest, the blonde looking awkward again. Peter couldn’t help but feel amused. “Really? How’d that go?”

 

“Uh, well, I figured it out back in September. But after… uh, Thursday’s events, I let it slip out.” Gwen explained and Peter felt an ache in his chest for the way she hesitated about Green Goblins attack. She might be taking her near death experience like a champ but no one could go about their days like nothing happened to begin with.

 

“Oh, yes, I saw what happened Thursday, I wanted to reach out some way but…” Pepper said with a sad smile, reaching to hold Gwen’s hand that was resting on the table. “I’m glad you’re safe.” 

 

Gwen smiled and Peter saw no hesitance or uncomfortableness in Gwen anymore. The girl tightened her hold on Pepper's hand and turned her attention to Peter, and he saw gratitude in those eyes along with something else Peter couldn’t quite place. “It’s all thanks to him.” 

 

Pepper looked at him too and she looked at him with pride, a silent sentence in those eyes. Good job, honey, he could hear her say. 

 

“I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.” Peter said, sincerity in his voice as he stole a grape from Pepper’s bowl. “Still won’t.” 

 

“Always the hero.” Pepper spoke fondly. “But did the hero finish his chemistry homework?” She asked with a pointed look, her eyebrows raised. 

 

“Oh, well—ya know, it’s a work in progress.” He shrugged, feeling a little red when both Pepper and Gwen laughed at him. “Been busy with… things.” 

 

“Things?” Gwen leaned forward a little, curiosity crystal clear in her somehow natural wide eyes. Her long black lashes framed them beautifully and it’s taking everything in him to not squeeze her cheeks between his hands and get a closer look at her eyes. “Are you able to share?” 

 

He hadn’t sworn an oath to secrecy and it’s not like Gwen and Pepper are clueless to Green Goblin and his mania. Besides, who would they tell? 

 

“Green Goblin is being held somewhere safe and secure.” He begins. “After his attack on Thursday, SHIELD was able to apprehend him. But he’s… like possessed or something.” 

 

“Possessed?” Pepper’s face screwed up into one of ponder, tapping her nails against the table while the other hand absentmindedly rubbed her belly. 

 

“Green Goblin isn’t necessarily the man but a separate being. It's like he’s a parasite feeding off of the actual man and speaking through him.” Peter explained, watching both the girls' faces go from wonder and confusion to understanding with even a little sympathy. “It’s Norman Osborn.” 

 

“Osborn?” Pepper voiced. 

 

“Harry’s dad?” Gwen said at the same time. 

 

Peter nodded, a sour taste rising in the back of his throat as he remembered his earlier interaction with the man. “It happened during an experiment, it looked like Norman was trying to create a super soldier serum, kind of like Steve and Winter Soldier. But it failed and in turn, Green Goblin showed up.” 

 

“Why would he make something like that?” Gwen questioned, her eyebrows scrunched together. 

 

“Norman has always been a man of the future,” Pepper said, adjusting in her seat to sit straighter as he and Gwen looked at her. “He was also a man of arrogance and a bit of a narcissist. If there was a chance he could do it, he would try.” The woman shrugged. “He could’ve done it for a number of reasons. More fame, money, reputation.” 

 

“But he doesn’t remember anything.” Peter said, stealing another grape, dodging Pepper’s soft hand slap attempt. “I talked to him, and he had no idea who I was. He doesn’t even remember Gwen or-or Harry starting school at Midtown. He loses all sense of time and control when Green Goblin takes over.” He swallowed the grape and looked down at the hard surface of the table. “He told him that… Green Goblin is a voice and it tells him things, to hurt people or that the intentions of others are all malicious.” 

 

“And he splits between the two without any warning or triggers,” Gwen reached a hand up to rub at her eyebrows like she had an oncoming headache, her bangs resting on her knuckles. “He’s got a hardcore multiple personality disorder.” 

 

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that, nodding along. “Yeah, basically.” 

 

“To just sum it up, yeah.” Pepper joined in with her own little smile, the three falling silent as Millie started to lay down besides Gwen’s chair. Peter looked outside through the front door and noticed the snow was coming down a little harder, and that the ticking of the grandfather clock that belonged to Pepper’s father was five minutes away from going off. 

 

“I took some of his blood.” Peter said suddenly, not looking at either of them, eyes moving to stare at the clock, watching the pendulum swing back and forth with each tick. “Find what is in it and figure out a way to counteract it, to get rid of Green Goblin for good.” 

 

“Then what?” Gwen asked softly. He tore his eyes away from the clock and looked at Gwen again. “Once he’s cured, he’ll have to be put on trial. The media is punching out stories and theories left and right, once Green Goblin is cured, SHIELD will have to hand him over.” 

 

“It’ll be out of my hands then.” Peter answered, leaning closer to Gwen. “Spider-Man could technically show up but obviously, I can’t give the final verdict.” 

 

“You could sway opinion, though.” Gwen countered. “Norman’s human and this seems like such a scary thing to go through. You could always recommend a padded room with doctors rather than a cold cell and inmates. Sure, the jurors will ultimately decide the final call and the judge will be ref but at least you’ll give them more things to consider.” 

 

Peter looked away in thought. She had a point and it would be better for Norman if the guy who kind of took him down was there and gave his own input. Trouble would be if the court deems his attendance worthwhile or not. He’d also have to communicate with Mr. Osborn’s lawyer. There’s a lot he’d have to do and information he’d have to give in order for Norman’s sentence to be persuaded towards institutionalization. 

 

“Are you looking to intern anywhere?” Pepper suddenly asked and both his and Gwen’s heads turned towards the woman, a small impressed look on her face. “Maybe even a job in a few years?” 

 

“What?” Gwen choked and Peter was alongside her. Pepper was offering Gwen a place at Stark Industries. The place where, in the beginning, was just a cover story for him skipping decathlon or marching band to do Spider-Man things. But now, it was a legitimate internship where he met some people he could call friends and colleagues. 

 

And Pepper was offering the same to Gwen. 

 

“Pete here is changing the R&D departments one genius idea at a time. Helping out in the labs and finding solutions that some of my scientists can’t. Peter always talks about how intelligent and resourceful you are, and I would love to have you and your brain a part of my company.” Pepper finishes her little speech, before smiling in a cheeky way. “If you’d like, of course.” 

 

Gwen just stared at Pepper with wide eyes and Peter wondering this is how he looked to Mr. Stark when he was offered the very same thing. 

 

“But… I thought—I mean, I’m still in high school.” Gwen blinked. 

 

“We don’t usually accept high schoolers but I’d say you and Pete are a wonderful exception.” Pepper shrugged, and Peter could see a little smugness in her smile. “I also am the rules, so.” 

 

“Oh, my god.” Peter laughed loudly, throwing his head back slightly as the two looked at him. “You sounded just like Mr. Stark! That’s exactly something he’d say!” 

 

“What? I did not, I was only stating facts!” Pepper wasn’t very good at defending herself this time. “And when you spend decades with someone, you tend to pick up a few things!” She laughed. 

 

Peter noticed how she used present tense. She does that all the time and it slowly breaks Peter’s heart each time she does. He’s also aware that he didn’t feel this bottomless pit of sorrow after mentioning the man like there’s always been.  

 

“Whatever,” Peter playfully rolled his eyes, feeling a grape pelt his forehead. “You’re just peevish that I’m right—”

 

“Now who's starting to sound like Tony?” Pepper laughed a little mockingly and he couldn’t help but laugh in return. “Anyways,” she turned her attention back to Gwen. “You don’t have to decide anything now, tomorrow, or even months from now. But just know that I’d love to have you.” 

 

Gwen continued to just stare, and Peter snorted, reaching over to gently nudge Gwen out of her stupor and her jaw snapped shut with an audible click. “Wow, that’s—thank you!” 

 

“Of course, honey.” Pepper smiled sweetly and pushed her now empty bowl away. “I know you’re busy with ballet and school, maybe a summer internship would be preferred?” 

 

“Definitely.” Gwen immediately nodded, relief flooding her face. “That would be great.” Then she looked to have realized something with the way her eyes went round. “You know I’m in ballet.” It wasn't a question. 

 

“Of course, Pete and I are planning on watching your recital in December.” Pepper then tilted her head. “Possibly Harley, as well.” 

 

Gwen looked back at him and spoke quietly. “You’re still coming?” 

 

“I was never planning to not go.” He said and her eyes shined a little in the lighting. Did she think that just because he had a fight, he wouldn’t show up to her big night? Her face definitely told him that’s exactly what she thought. 

 

“Why wouldn’t he?” Pepper questioned and Peter suddenly felt awkward. What happened at Harry’s party was greatly fibbed and he will not tell Pepper the truth and Gwen was biting at the inside of her cheeks. “What happened?” 

 

“Nothing, nothing.” Peter said a little too quickly, but didn’t give Pepper time to speak as he continued on. “But speaking of chemistry, Gwen, could you help me with the homework? I just can’t get my head wrapped around it.” 

 

“Oh! Yes, sure!” She took his opening and they both got out of their seats at the same time, Peter could feel Pepper’s gaze on him but he avoided her eyes, knowing she’d probably see exactly what she suspected as it would be written on his face. 

 

He led Gwen upstairs and heard Pepper whisper to keep his door open and the idea of what could happen behind closed doors made his face heat up a little. He would never do that! Yeah…

 

But he let Gwen enter in first and let the door close just a tad, watching as Gwen looked around. Honestly, his room wasn’t anything too special. Blue walls, big bed encased by two night stands, a closet, a desk, bookcase, and a chair. 

 

“Oh, no way.” Gwen marveled as she walked a bit closer to his telescope, the lens peaked through the closed curtains, briefly looking at his awards and ribbons from decathlon or science fairs, gently caressing the steel. “You have one of these?” 

 

“Yeah,” he smiled, walking closer to her. He tugged his curtains open and took the lens cap off and let Gwen look through it. “It was my dads. It's been in storage until recently.” He hasn’t even looked through it, the lens cap has never been taken off until this very moment and Peter doesn’t want to look back outside; see what Gwen sees. “I didn’t even know he had it.” 

 

“Really?” Gwen looked away from the eyepiece and frowned at him. She looked back down at it and he saw her bend slightly, her hair falling like water. “Propery of Richard Parker.” She recites, gently tracing the engraving. “As in the scientist?”

 

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, moving to sit down on the edge of his bed, Gwen straightening her back as she gently touched the ancient thing (for all Peter knows, it could be younger than him). “Both my parents were pretty well known.”

 

“Mary and Richard Parker.” Gwen hummed, shooting him a smile as she walked closer to him and for some reason his heart started to pound a little bit more with each step. “Their research is beyond anything I’ve ever read about, their findings were ahead of their time. I didn’t realize you were the Parker that’s related to them.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he looked down at his hands, seeing Gwen’s thighs in his upper peripheral. “They were pretty amazing.” 

 

He can only hope to make such discoveries and contribute to the scientific field like his parents did before him, maybe help create medicine or even manually put molecules together to create anything (not to be confused with nanoparticals which are a collection of many molecules whereas a molecule is a collection of atoms (he pays attention)). 

 

“I’d say if you were able to come from them.” Gwen said quietly, like she didn’t mean to say it. He looked up quickly and saw that she was now admiring his trophies and ribbons, looking to be reading each little plaque that a trophy had before looking at his Stark Industries one that hung proudly. “Nice signature." 

 

He rolled his eyes playfully, getting up off his bed and seeing what she was teasing him about. Next to Mr. Stark’s neat signature was his scribbly mess, the only letters that were tangible were the “P’s” of his name, everything else were lines. 

 

“He really signed it.” Gwen mused, leaning a bit closer to the frame. “That’s, like, actual pen ink and not a digital copy and paste.” 

 

“You are too observant, Gweny.” He laughed, going over to his closet and reaching for a little box that was up on the shelf of the closet, pulling it down and presenting it to the blonde. “But yeah, he did really sign it.” 

 

Gwen took the box and she kind of just dropped to the floor, resting on her knees as she opened the lid, Peter plopping down next to her. In her hands was another picture frame, but this one was of Peter and Mr. Stark, the two holding the certificate between them, smiling professionally but something was off. 

 

It would be the fact that they were both giving each other bunny ears. 

 

Gwen snorted and Peter couldn’t help but laugh along with her. It was a pretty silly photo in the grand scheme of things, but it was one of many he has with the man and he cherishes it. Gwen then made another noise and he sobered up a bit, leaning forward a bit to look at the photo when he noticed that her eyebrows creased slightly. 

 

“What up?” He asked, not seeing anything wrong with the picture. But Gwen looked confused. 

 

“Nothing…” she looked back up at him before quickly looking at the photo again. “You guys just look… similar.” 

 

“Similar?” He looked at the photo again and he didn’t see it. They looked completely different. “I don’t think so.” 

 

“Well,” Gwen looked up at him again, holding the frame up, her eyes shifting between him and the picture. “In this photo, you look drastically different than you do now, you don’t look as kiddish anymore. But between his face and your face now, you kinda look alike.” 

 

“What?” He gently took her hands and positioned the frame so he could look at it. He really doesn’t think so, Gwen must be messing with him. “I don’t see it.” 

 

Gwen only shrugged, lowering her arm and putting the frame back in the box. “It’s a nice picture, regardless.” She said, “You guys must’ve been close.” 

 

A bittersweet feeling rose in Peter and he smiled sadly, nodding. “Yeah, we were.” He cleared his throat and sat in a more comfortable position, leaning his back against his bed. Gwen moved along the floor to sit besides him now, shoulder to shoulder, and he looked down at where their hands almost touched. “He… he was great.” 

 

“How did you guys meet?” Gwen asked, being much bolder than him as she wasted no time in holding his hand, moving her legs to be flush against his. “I remember seeing stuff about Spider-Man being in Germany with Iron Man and the rest was history.”

 

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled, though it felt a little sad. “Yeah. He kinda, like, burst into my life one day? I just got home from school and I saw this wild car parked outside the building and when I got to my apartment, he was on the couch, talking to Aunt May.” 

 

“Was he really?” Gwen giggled. 

 

“Yeah,” it definitely was a very shocking thing to experience, having a millionaire and superhero sitting on his thrifted couch, telling a lie about a September foundation retreat that Peter must be a part of. “And he knew who I was already, he figured that out in some way, I’m still not too sure how. But, he needed my help.” 

 

“That was why you were in Germany, and the whole Accords thing.” Gwen nodded along. “So he gave you a new suit to wear besides those pajamas.” 

 

“They weren’t pajamas.” He weakly protested, mocking Gwen’s laugh before tugging her closer by their entwined hands, his free hand cupping her cheek and pressing his lips to hers. She practically melted into him and he had to hold back a laugh, the strawberry taste returning. That must be her lipgloss flavor, strange how he was never able to smell it. 

 

He felt her hand come up to hold his wrist, flinging her legs over his lap like a seatbelt, moving ever so closer to him. This felt nice, having her in his hold, being able to say that she’s alive and that he didn’t fail. 

 

He broke the kiss but didn’t move his face away, staring at her as she stared at him, her cheeks dusted pink and her lips slightly agape as she breathed. 

 

“Are you okay?” He whispered, his thumb rubbing against her warm cheek. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Like… really okay?” 

 

“Peter,” her tone matched his and her own hands cupped his cheeks. “I’m fine.” 

 

“Gwen—” 

 

“I promise.” She leaned forward slightly and kissed him for just a second. “I’m alive, you saved me.”

 

He opened his mouth but nothing came out, only keeping his eyes on Gwen. She really was something, wasn’t she? This little blonde genius was reassuring him after she nearly died and it left a sour taste in his mouth. He should be the one assuring her, right? But he just stayed silent as he admired her, in more ways than what he could physically see or feel. This wasn’t what he expected his life to be like. He expected to die in that space ship but he didn’t. He expected to be alone but he wasn’t. He expected to have no friends anymore but he does. 

 

Nothing stuck to his script. 

 

“You weren’t a part of my plans.” He heard himself murmur to her, somehow getting even closer to her, he felt her legs tighten across his lap. “I didn’t expect you.” 

 

She tilted her head slightly. “What?” 

 

“I thought my world ended months ago, thought I was at rock bottom.” He explained. “But then you came along and suddenly, I…” he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t feel as down anymore. You were the domino that has led me to think I had a life again. You changed everything.” 

 

Gwen looked like she was trying to contain all the happiness in her body and she was shaking like a chihuahua. She wrapped an arm around his neck and tugged him into a hug, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. He immediately wrapped his own arms around her back and burrowed his face into the junction between her neck and shoulder. 

 

She still smelled like vanilla and a secret second thing, the drive and harsh winds did nothing to take that scent away. 

 

“You changed everything, too.” She whispered and they stayed in each other's arms for so long, Peter nearly fell asleep. She just felt like… comfort and love. She was a warm embrace of everything he thought wasn’t possible and he’s never been so happy and relieved to be wrong. He’ll never mind being wrong when it comes to her. 

 

She was everything he was missing, he just can’t believe it took him so long to see it. 

Chapter 22

Nov 18, 2018 was etched on Peter’s whiteboard and he sat in his lab at the compound, looking over the notes and his calculations for Norman’s cure. Peter understands that Green Goblin appeared after a failed “military advantage” experiment and Norman inhaled its gas. OZ formula was what it was and Peter managed to snag a small vial from a cart of evidence without agents noticing. 

 

He feels like they should’ve but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

 

There’s a few things Peter’s thought of that could work, in simple terms, turning OZ into ZO which is just a very straightforward way of just reversing the formula but then some of the key components might either be ineffective or just worsen Green Goblin. 

 

And that’s… yeah, no thanks. 

 

Green Goblin is notably one of the worst guys he’s ever faced (and he hasn’t faced a whole lot) that isn’t an alien. If he can’t make a counter-serum strong enough, Norman will just remain trapped and crazed. Even without his insanity, Norman’s someone that Peter just couldn’t hold back on. He left that clock tower with gashes around his neck and his super durable suit torn.

 

Norman’s blood and the OZ were currently being tested by FRIDAY to see what exactly is in them and Peter can work from there. 

 

But then that means if the cure is successful, Norman’s going to be turned to the proper authorities that would decide his fate. Gwen had a point that his presence could possibly persuade the final verdict but he’s just… not sure he’s comfortable with that idea. It seems weird, for lack of better wording. 

 

He twirled his pen in his hands and sighed, using his unoccupied hand to run it through his hair. This just seems too complicated for him to get roped up in. But he already was, wasn’t he? In a sense. 

 

The sounds of heels clicking against the tiled floors several feet away from Peter’s lab brought him out his head and he looked behind him to see Pepper peeking her head in.

 

“So this is where you hid off to.” She said, fully walking in and shutting the door behind her. She looked at his gigantic white board and let out an impressed hum. “You’ve been here for a while.” 

 

“I wouldn’t say that.” He shrugged lazily. 

 

“You’ve been in the lab for approximately five hours and nineteen minutes.” FRIDAY spoke and Peter let out an offended sound. 

 

“Snitch.” He mumbled before taking his feet off the desk and fully turning his chair in Pepper’s direction. “Okay, so I have been here for a while.” 

 

“Not getting any closer to being done with the scans?” She asked, looking at the two vials in their tiny compartments, blue light running up and down it. 

 

“There’s a lot of different things in blood and serums gone wrong.” He sniffed, getting off his chair and walking over to the vials, looking at all the tiny words FRIDAY is writing into a computer. “In Mr. Osborn’s case, there’s a lot.” 

 

Pepper hummed again and he could feel her eyes on his back and he was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the attention. But looking at all the words and the percentages that’s in each vial was helping with the awkwardness. 

 

“You okay, Peter?” 

 

He looked up at that and was surprised to see gloom in her eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. “Yeah? I’m just busy, ya know?” 

 

“I do know.” She said softly, walking closer to him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

 

“Of cures.” He said with ease and he looked back down at the computer and saw a certain chemical that caught his attention, grabbing a piece of paper and using his pen to write it down. “Are you okay?” 

 

“Yes,” Pepper chuckled lightly. “I just wanted to make sure my son is doing fine.” 

 

He looked at her again and sighed, placing his pen down and walking up to her, pulling her into a hug. Her belly was rounder but he didn’t find it difficult to hug Pepper like he always used to before she had Morgan chilling in her belly. 

 

“I’m okay, Pepper, honest.” He said. “I’m just trying to help someone. Like I promised myself I would always do.” 

 

Pepper patted Peter on the back and he could tell she was smiling. “You’re a good kid.” He laughed as she reached up to pat his head. “You’ve gotten even taller, you know.” 

 

“Have I?” He took a step back from his hug with Pepper and noticed that she was decently shorter than she was two months ago. “Huh.” 

 

“We should measure you soon.” She said, “Been going through a growth spurt for a couple months now.” 

 

“That’s definitely a later task.” He said, taking a few more steps away from Pepper and turning back to the computer. “There’s something in his blood that FRIDAY picked up on.” 

 

The two looked at what Peter wrote down: organophosphate insecticides. 

 

“What does that mean?” Pepper asked as Peter sat back down in his chair and looked back and forth between the screens of Norman’s blood and the serum. 

 

“It means that Norman was exposed to a sort of chemical warfare and it was in his bloodstream moments before the serum blew up in his face.” Peter wrote down a few more things before rolling his chair over to the whiteboard. “Being exposed to something like that can be fatal, he would’ve died months ago if the OZ formula hadn’t entered into his body.” 

 

“So it’s a poison.” Pepper summarized and Peter nodded, erasing a small doodle he did while he waited for the scanning to complete. “But how could he have been exposed to that?” 

 

“Typically it comes with agricultural things like pest control or herbicides, but I’m thinking it was a part of a different failed attempt to make the super soldier serum, maybe he wanted this specific chemical to have no effect on those ejected with the serum and in turn, got exposed.” 

 

“And it can cause psychosis?” 

 

“Oh yeah,” Peter said, not noticing that he’s rambling as he wrote down equations and getting rid of old ones with this newfound information. “It can damage the brain, causing dysfunction and ruining all its pathways.” 

 

“And it’s still in his blood.” Pepper realized and Peter turned around to nod, his face grim.

 

“But the OZ formula is acting against it.” Peter said. “It’s not doing anything but holding things at bay. It’s like the chemical is at a stop light and OZ is the traffic controller.” Peter licked his lips and took a quick sip of his water. “But little bits and pieces of organophosphate are still slipping through and it’s working hand in hand with Norman’s insanity while the serum continues to let Green Goblin fight and stay strong.” 

 

“Is there a way you could cure it?” Pepper leaned against a desk, a hand on her stomach and Peter stared at the bump. Little Morgan was in there, having no idea what in the world is happening with life right now. He wishes to be that ignorant one day.

 

“There’s a way,” he said slowly, mulling it over in his head. He thought about using a liquidized antidote for the organophosphate and putting nanites in with it, effectively curing both his poisoning and Green Goblin for good. The antidote for the poison should still work, considering it hasn’t been allowed to progress at all and Norman is still very much alive. “It’ll just take a few hours for me to do.” 

 

“Okay…” Pepper trailed off and he looked back at her and saw that she was just analyzing him with a thoughtful gaze, almost bittersweet. 

 

“What?” He asked. 

 

“Nothing…” she said softly, standing up straight once more and closed the space between them, gently cupping his jaw. “You just remind me of him.” 

 

His immediate reaction was to apologize and he’s not sure why. I’m sorry I unintentionally remind you of your dead fiancé. Uh, no. He was brought back to his conversation with Gwen and how she said something along those same lines. But should he mention that to Pepper? Probably not, she looks real bummed but also like she’s reminiscing. 

 

“I’ll leave you to it.” She let go of her jaw and walked out of his lab, making him promise to be home in time for dinner, they’d be trying jalapeno popper grilled cheese, something Pepper’s been craving. 

 

At least this craving sounds edible. 

 

---

 

“What’s that?” Peter looked away from Norman’s cell to see Steve and Natasha approaching him, neither one of them wearing their suits but instead workout gear. 

 

“His cure.” Peter answered, holding up the syringe like the two wouldn't be able to see it otherwise, looking them both up and down with a wrinkled nose. “You guys stink.” 

 

“Oh, hush.” Natasha lightly flicked his forehead and the teen laughed. Her easygoing tone turned more serious as she looked through the window of Norman’s enclosure, his eyes staring into it like it was a TV. “You sure this could work, ребенок-паук?” 

 

He spent a few more hours after Pepper left to continue researching and found that his earlier hypothesis on the OZ formula and the poison had been correct. He ran multiple tests on both the antidote and nanites and each time, the success rate increased from partially effective to fully effective. 

 

He did make it back home before dinner time and once that was finished, he packed the anti-serum into his car and drove to SHIELDs base that housed Norman. SHIELD probably won’t hand over Norman until early tomorrow morning. Monday will be jampacked for news stations and the media in general. 

 

“I did too many tests for it to not work.” Peter responded, bringing the capped syringe to his face again, it was a gross green color but he’s positive it’ll work and Norman can get the help he needs. Plus, it would definitely help Peter get his sleep schedule back to semi awful instead of horrendous. 

 

“And his son?” Steve asked, folding his arms over his chest. Peter swallowed at that and couldn’t help but feel the twinge of guilt flare up inside him. Harry’s still under the impression that Norman's on a business trip and the teen just grumbles about it. He has no idea the harsh reality his dad is facing. 

 

Peter knows that Norman’s been going on business trips a long time and sometimes it’s months before he returns home and he never contacts Harry. So the redhead doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary whatsoever.

 

Unfortunately he’s going to know soon and Peter’s just got to be there for him. 

 

“Has no idea.” He settles on. 

 

“Will you need any help?” Natasha asked, nodding her head at the CEO of Oscorp who hasn’t moved an inch, he doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. Peter tries to not let that freak him out. “We can get a dart ready to sedate him.” 

 

“No, no.” Peter shook his head and rolled his shoulders. He changed into something more comfortable than what he had on earlier, now in a simple black t-shirt and gray joggers. He’ll need to be able to move easily if he’s going to wrestle Norman just to give him a shot. “I’ll be okay. But when things get rough, just let me handle it. Please?” 

 

Natasha gave one singular nod but Steve still looked hesitant but as he regarded Norman with his blue eyes, the soldier sighed in defeat, his shoulders dropping a little. “Alright, Queens.” 

 

Peter smiled. “Thank you.” Looking back at Natasha, his smile faded a little. “The cameras?” 

 

“Mandatory system upgrade.” She said with a smirk. “They’ll be down for an hour, conveniently when Spider-Man needs to give the cure to Goblin and Black Widow is stationed to observe them.” 

 

“They believed that?” Steve raised an eyebrow and looked a little surprised. “Really?”

 

Natasha turned her head and her platinum hair looked a little like blood in snow in the low lighting. “Would you question me?” 

 

“Good point, she’s scary.” Peter quipped and with that, he went over to the cell door and pushed himself inside, Norman still not moving from the noise. 

 

Peter cleared his throat and went over to the chair in the corner he sat in last time, holding the syringe in his pocket. He sat down and whistled lowly and was satisfied to see an eye twitch from Norman. 

 

“Sorry, was that too pitchy?” Peter cringed a little too exaggeratingly but that created a reaction from the man, his eyes moving until they locked onto Peter’s. “How are you feeling, Mr. Osborn?” 

 

Like a flash, Norman’s stoic face changed into a wide smile and his eyes looked like plates. Don’t react, don’t react, don’t react. “Oh, looky here, a boy trying to play doctor.” Norman chuckled darkly, his voice low. “What sort of genius idea brought you here?” 

 

“Mr. Osborn, I just want to help you.” Peter tried again, tensing when the older man rose off the bed but made no attempt to walk closer to the teenager. 

 

“Help?” Norman spat. “We do not need your help, boy! We are not some guinea pig that you can poke and run experiments on!”

 

He felt his sixth sense shoot up to a hundred but he didn’t move, letting Norman come at him with open hands, gripping the collar of Peter’s shirt and throwing him at the wall, the steel denting under Peter as Norman held the teen high. 

 

Ouch…

 

“If there’s anyone who needs fixing it’s you!” Green Goblin snarled. “The boy who lost everything! I know about you, Peter Parker, and I know how you strive to fix the world so others don’t suffer! But no one cares if you do! Poor Peter Parker…”

 

Peter felt his frown grow deeper with each word Norman spits out, his hands reaching up to hang onto the man’s wrists, feeling a thousand feet in the air. But yet, he still managed to grasp out a comment. “Don’t bring my financial status into this.”

 

He was ignored, Norman leaning forwards and his voice quieted but still sounded just as evil as before. “Least of all me, and I intend to prove it!”

 

Peter didn’t feel like being tossed around anymore by this guy, so he brought a knee up and brought it up to the man’s chest and kneed him hard. Norman’s hold weakened as he wheezed for breath, doubling over slightly and Peter stuck his hands to the nondented parts of the wall and kicked Norman away, the man flying across the cell and rolling along the floor until he was on his stomach, still catching his breath. 

 

Peter lunged at Norman and immediately held him down, pressing a foot down on Norman’s arm and his opposing knee was holding the other arm down. Peter tensed and dug through his pocket until he had the syringe in his hand, his unoccupied hand held Norman’s head down to expose the side of his neck.

 

“I’ll destroy you!” Norman shouted and struggled against Peter’s hold, the hero tapping more into his strength to fully subdue the mad man and he was not happy about that. Goblin couldn’t move as Peter held him down and flicked the cap off the needle. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter said absentmindedly as he positioned the needle right above the skin. “Tell me how that goes.” He then plunged the needle in and watched as the screen liquid went into Norman’s body, the man gasped shakily and his eyes grew terrified before he went limp, looking like he’s sleeping now. 

 

Peter looked at the mirror briefly with his own wide eyes before looking back at Norman, slowly getting off the man but kept in a crouch, lightly poking Norman’s shoulder. 

 

“Mr. Osborn?” He whispered, hearing the man’s heart beat at a normal pace, his breathing slow and calm. Peter was calm. “Mr. Osborn,” he said a little louder than before (maybe even more panicky than before, too). “Oh, no… God…” he whispered to himself. “I killed him.” 

 

“You didn’t kill him.” Natasha said as she walked through the door and Peter didn’t even realize he couldn’t hear her approach, looking at him with an unimpressed eyebrow raise. “You can literally still hear his heart.” 

 

Peter chuckled nervously, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay,” he rolled his shoulders and rose to his full height and put his hands on his hips, looking at the unconscious man. “So, uh, what now?” 

 

Out of nowhere, Natasha held up a thick pair of handcuffs, a red light blinking from the center of the pawl. “We cuff him up, wait to see if the anti-serum worked.” 

 

---

 

“Shocking news for New Yorkers when it was revealed that Norman Osborn, CEO and founder of Oscorp Industries, was the masked criminal: Green Goblin. Osborn was apprehended by Spider-Man late Thursday last week. Officials say that the man is currently being held—”

 

Bzzz

 

“Masked vigilante menace, commonly known as Spider-Man, has seemed to throw CEO of Oscorp Industries, Norman Osborn, into jail! That’s right folks, a criminal catching a criminal! If that’s not some sappy poetic bullshit—!”

 

Bzzz

 

“Ya know, it only seems right that some rich bastard was the evil guy.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Aren’t all rich bastards evil? Steve Jobs defo murdered someone… off record.” 

 

“Off record, your brain seems liquidized.” 

 

“You’re so rude.” 

 

“But not all rich bastards are evil! Tony Stark was a good guy bastard… after selling weapons.” 

 

“He’s my bastard.”

 

Bzzz

 

“The connection between teen high schooler Gwendolyn Stacy and Spider-Man is still unclear! Honestly, both just need to tell the truth so we’re all put out of our misery, right? Mmhmm, yeah, I know I’m right—”

 

Click

 

Monday, November 19th. 

 

Peter wasn’t sure if he'd ever heard the school so quiet before. He walked through the front doors of Midtown and students were all on their phones, some huddled over one phone or one person on one phone. He walked over to his locker and was already missing Harry’s presence. The news of Norman’s identity was released early this morning and Harry must’ve been one of the first to find out. A part of Peter had hoped that he could have been the one to tell his friend but he can only imagine how’d that would go. “Hey Harry, so sorry that your dad and I beat the shit out of one another and that I turned him over to the rightful authorities. Are we still cool?” 

 

That could end so very badly. 

 

He sighed lightly to himself as he did his combo and put extra snacks in the little box MJ gifted him, getting a whiff of a very familiar perfume. He smiled to himself as he felt Gwen slide into the locker next to him, a sad smile formed. “Hey.” 

 

“Hey yourself.” He smiled and shut his locker but the two stood in place, obviously neither knew what to say and various different podcasts and new stations were playing from students' phones and it made it difficult to find his thoughts. 

 

Luckily Gwen found it for the both of them and started to speak, though her voice was quiet. “Have you talked to him?” 

 

He shook his head. “No. Have you?” 

 

Gwen bit her lip and shook her head, her bangs sweeping her forehead. “I reached out but was left on delivered.” 

 

That was Peter’s issue, too. Harry didn’t respond to any texts or calls, not even any TikTok’s Peter sent in an attempt to cause a smile. Nothing. 

 

Part of him feels guilty (a lot of guilt, actually) and he wants nothing more to do than to make it up to his friend but how could he do that without revealing who he is? He bit his lip as he stared down at the tiled floor and that must’ve caught Gwen’s attention. 

 

The blonde reached up to thread her fingers through his hair before resting it on his cheek, slowly coaching his head to rise as their eyes connected. 

 

“You better not be feeling bad about this.” Gwen said quietly. “What you did was good. You cured him and he’s now getting help. You didn’t ruin anything.”

 

Maybe just Harry’s reputation and by extension his future. But Peter only nodded, smiling a bit brighter at Gwen as her hand slipped from his face, their hands connecting. “You have got to stop reading my mind.” 

 

“It’s a power I can’t turn off.” Gwen teased with a little sass and he couldn’t help but genuinely smile at her, teeth and all. He’ll never understand how her presence alone could make him feel so happy, so at peace. When she does anything at all (talk, smile, touch him, laugh) it just amplifies. “Get to class, bug boy, I won’t get another tardy because of you.”

 

Pulling her in for a quick kiss, they went their separate ways and Peter once again felt cold without Harry at his side. Harry will be okay, in the end. It’ll just take time. 

 

As soon as Peter sat down, Charles and Abe rushed in and sat in their seats in front of Peter. But they immediately turned around in their chairs and stared at him like he was the greatest person to ever live and he suddenly felt overwhelmed. 

 

“Hey?” He tried and Charles reached forward to slam his fist onto the table dramatically. 

 

“I demand to know what the hell I just saw.” He began and Peter blinked. “Last I checked, Gwen wasn’t talking to you, and then I saw you two kiss? Come on, man, tell us!” 

 

“How did this happen?” Abe continued. “When, where, what, why, now.” 

 

This seems like a bit of an overkill but Peter figured he’d be okay with talking about him and Gwen over the upcoming silence that would accompany him until first period. So he explained that it technically happened on Saturday when he went to check on her after what happened Thursday. 

 

“Oh, yeah, that must’ve been terrifying.” Abe said, looking slightly haunted. “She wasn’t here Friday, I haven’t asked her how it was, but…” 

 

“And I thought the Washington monument mishap was the worst thing a student here will go through.” Charles said with a slight shake of his head. “The news is still reporting about her, Spidey, and Green Bean.” 

 

Peter doesn’t doubt it, but seeing how his two classmates are reacting to what happened to Gwen on Thursday is really putting into perspective just how calm and scary Gwen is being with it. He imagines she’d be more on edge or even having nightmares but she’s not telling him anything and that almost makes it worse. 

 

“Yeah, they did a scale to size model on the tower.” Abe said, pointing to Charles like the boy made a fantastic point. “That building was the tallest in New York for decades, and it’s what? Nine hundred and some feet tall?” 

 

“I think they said nine hundred and thirty-seven.” Charles recounted and Peter’s gut rolled. He didn’t even think about how tall the building is or how Gwen fell nine hungered feet. “She was about forty feet from the top. Which, by the way, they crashed through! That’s crazy! Did you see that part? Goblin straight up dropped her from fifty feet in the air, Spider-Man caught her, and they fell through the dome and she fell that forty feet. Girl fell almost one hundred feet before she was hanging in the air. Then she went down.” 

 

Abe hummed, his voice lofty. “It's a miracle she didn’t die.” 

 

It really was, and Peter looked down at his desk and tried not to think of the what-ifs. Gwen could have died and it would’ve been his fault. What if he didn’t see the web? What if he didn’t propel himself closer to her before pulling her to him? What if she met the ground? He’s starting to feel nauseous.

 

“She looks fine, though.” Abe said after a moment, looking back at Peter this time, his eyebrows raised like he was trying to look on the bright side. “She’s fine, right?”

 

Yes, and that’s what troubles Peter the most. She seems fine. She collapsed and she looked as pale as a ghost and she wouldn't stop stuttering, but after that night, she bounced right back. Was she lying to Peter or was she just that resilient?

 

“I think she’s still a little in shock.” Peter said at last, looking up at the clock like it’ll help Peter process his thoughts and words better. “You guys know Gwen, she won’t let something like that get her down.” 

 

“She’s tough.” Charles agreed. “Like She-Ra.”

 

Abe snapped his head to look at his friend, and Peter followed suit. He’s not sure whether to frown or laugh. “Dude, what the hell.” 

Chapter 23

Peter walked down the streets of New York after school that Monday, his backpack hanging off his shoulders as he made his way over to Happy’s condo with the strict instruction to invite the man over for Thanksgiving. Happy literally lived a few blocks away from Midtown High and Peter doesn’t mind walking instead of driving. 

 

What? He was sitting in class all day, let him have this.  

 

He sighed as he approached Happy’s building and walked inside the bright lobby, smiling and waving at the receptionist that was sitting at the front desk and walked over to the elevator. The doors slid shut and he felt himself go up several feet before he was on the fifth floor and slipped out before the doors opened fully. 

 

He’s always liked Happy’s place, it was very clean and it felt homey. He cringed as his shoes squeaked against the floor and no matter how he walked, it was futile and he opted to just walk faster and faster until he was practically jogging to Happy’s door. 

 

Giving the wood a solid few knocks, he waited and wondered if anyone let Happy know that Peter was on his way. Pepper would’ve called him, right? Or was this supposed to be a lovely surprise? Doesn't seem like the woman’s style…

 

The door opened and Peter looked up with a smile though he found himself struggling to uphold it after a second. Happy stood there and definitely didn’t look… happy. He looked depressed, even. 

 

“What’re you doing here?” Happy asked as he walked away from the door, and Peter followed him in, shutting the door and taking his shoes off. There was not a single light on besides a small table side lamp, the drapes were shut. Happy and his place just screamed melancholy. “I didn’t get a call.” 

 

“I was just wondering about that.” Peter muttered, plopping down on the recliner Happy has, the man returning to his spot on the couch with a box on the coffee table. Peter tried not to look too deeply at it, he had a feeling Happy’s behavior went hand-in-hand with whatever’s in that box. “Sorry, Happy.” 

 

“It’s fine, Kid.” Happy said, grabbing the lid of the box and spun it in his hand but made no move to put it on the box. “Some company might do some good.” 

 

Peter wasn’t sure if he should comment on that or not, he had a feeling he should handle Happy with a fragile approach but obviously make it seem like he’s not. If that makes sense. 

 

Maybe he should say something? With the way Happy’s making no more of an effort to speak and only staring at the box, it might be best for Peter to take that step. 

 

“Uh,” he tried, his voice a little light. “So, what’s in the box?” He definitely could’ve been smoother with that but he can’t win them all, unfortunately. When the man didn’t answer, Peter decided to just bite the bullet. “What’s wrong, Happy?” 

 

Happy looked away from the box and their eyes held contact and Peter was just a little blown away at the raw sadness he sees. He's never seen Happy like this and it makes this so much harder to do. He shouldn’t have to worry about Happy like this! It's Happy! He’s the adult, he’s part of the bunch where Peter struggled with accepting that they’re human. 

 

But Peter’s life is all about gaining new perspectives and understanding, isn’t it?

 

“In a few days,” Happy began, looking away from Peter and back down at the box. “It’s the anniversary of the day I lost someone very special to me.” 

 

Oh… 

 

Peter opened his mouth but what could he say? He’s heard it a bunch of times from others when it was the funeral of his parents or Uncle Ben and it didn’t change anything. It only made his life, in those moments, seem like broken records and he grew very tired of it, very quickly. The last thing he wants is to make Happy feel the same. So he stayed quiet, curious of who it could be, but he wasn’t going to push it. 

 

Yet. 

 

“It’s the twenty-third anniversary…” Happy continued, though now, Peter thought, it looked like the man was talking to the inanimate object. “Twenty-three years since he died.” 

 

“…who?” 

 

“Matthew.” Happy licked his lips, unblinking. “My son.” 

 

Oh?

 

Peter had absolutely no idea that Happy had a kid. He always figured that Happy didn’t want that kind of life. He knows of Happy’s boxing career and how he was on top of the world, a great reputation and winning streak, and one day, it started to go downhill until he was hired as Mr. Stark’s bodyguard. But he never knew more than that, and it honestly never crossed his mind to look into Happy’s past. 

 

“My wife and I, well, ex wife, we had a good life. She was a nurse, I was a professional boxer, we went to parties and cooked dinner together every night, we went on walks and went dancing.” Happy put the lid down on the coffee table and started to rummage through the box. “She got a pay raise and I was gaining more popularity, we thought it would be a good time to have a kid.” 

 

Peter kept silent, not moving, tempted to even hold his breath. This man is lost in his own words and Peter wants nothing more than to keep as quiet as a mouse. 

 

“Matty was born and everything was looking better and better, until it crashed down.” Happy brought his hand out of the box and held close a little blue stuffed dog, it’s old and well loved but also looks like it’s never been owned. “He was a year old when we noticed he was more tired than he usually was, he was losing weight like crazy because he wasn’t ever hungry.” 

 

Those symptoms are vague and could mean a number of things but it’s obvious that Matty was sick, and Peter felt his heart ache for Happy with each passing word. 

 

“Tracy wanted to bring him in, she called me while I was warming up for a match and told me that Matty had just collapsed. I got home hours later to be told Matty had leukemia.” Happy put the dog beside the box and took out a little pink blanket, rubbing his thumb over the material. “At the time, Tracy was pregnant with our second child and the stress almost brought her into labor many times.” 

 

Happy had two kids? What happened to that second child? What happened to Tracy? Could all this have been the cause of Happy’s boxing career sinking?

 

“Jessica was born while Matty was dealing with chemo and radiation therapy, she never knew her brother from outside of being sick.” 

 

Peter’s not sure what to think besides: oh that’s shitty. 

 

“Matty died a year after being diagnosed, it was too aggressive for him to handle. Jessi didn’t understand where her brother went. Tracy wasn’t the same, I didn’t box the same. Our marriage grew rocky but we tried. For Jessi’s sake. For ours.” 

 

A single photo was taken out of the box next and Happy only looked at it for a moment before closing his eyes and dropping it back in the box. Was Peter curious to know what the picture looked like? Sure. Would he ask to see it? No way. 

 

“It was January of ‘97 when I got a call from Jessi’s daycare. She had a fever and I wasn’t able to pick her up and neither was Tracy, so we sent my brother over. He got her and on the way back to our house, he… hit an ice patch and—” Happy ran a hand down his face and Peter looked down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers. 

 

This was… unexpected, for sure. He literally just wanted to invite the man over for Thanksgiving that’s in a few days. He doesn’t know how to respond to any of this, he doesn’t want to repeat things he’s sure Happy’s heard a bunch of times. What would Mr. Stark say? Peter’s pretty sure he’d be just as silent, probably make a badly timed deprecating joke. What about Pepper? Maybe she’d give the man a hug. 

 

What should Peter do? What should he say? 

 

Nothing sounded right to him. 

 

Luckily, Happy broke the silence, his voice still as monotone as it had been. “Why are you here, Kid?” 

 

He can’t just say it’s because he wants to invite the man over for Thanksgiving. That is definitely a later conversation. Peter knows for a fact that if someone came over just to invite him somewhere and he had just told them something personal, he’d practically force them out of his house and never talk to them again (for a couple hours, at least), he’d be embarrassed! 

 

So he opted to lie. 

 

“Oh, well, I just haven’t seen you in a bit, thought I’d drop by!” Peter smiled, perking up as he looked around the apartment as if he’s never seen it before. It was very minimal but it suited Happy. 

 

He looked back down at the head of security and he looked like he hadn’t even heard Peter. The teen's smile faded a little but he wouldn’t give up. Maybe it would do him good if Peter asked more about the kids? Probably not Tracy, their marriage sounded like it broke apart after their babies unfortunately passed away. 

 

His heart tightened once more at that, but he tried to not let the man see any sort of sympathy, afraid it might cause a fight or something. 

 

“Can you tell me more about them?” He said gently. “About Matty and Jessi? Were they funny?” 

 

And so, there Peter sat, comfortably in Happy’s recliner while the man talked about his children, not pitching in once as the man brought up old memories and Peter pretended to not notice the way Happy’s eyes grew misty after a time. 

 

As time went on and the more Happy talked, he grew more lively by the second. He started to smile more as he recounted how Matty loved to swim but Jessi hated it, how the girl loved to color but the boy liked to read. But they both liked story time and always needed to be told one every night before bed. 

 

They sounded like good kids, it’s a shame that Peter will never know them. How different would life be if they hadn’t passed away? If Happy and Tracy never divorced, if Matthew and Jessica lived. Would Happy still be a professional boxer? Would Peter even know him, then? 

 

Matthew would be twenty-five and Jessica would be twenty-four. Would they have their own families by now? Would they have gone to college or live a life outside of New York? Would they have ever met Peter if Happy still worked for Mr. Stark? 

 

After a moment, Happy stopped talking and he no longer looked so tense in his shoulders, he no longer looked like he aged thirty years. There’s a light that wasn’t there before and with it, warmth crawled into Peter’s heart. Talking about Matty and Jessi in lightheartedness must’ve been what Happy needed. How long was Happy stuck in this constant loop of dread that all he could think about was losing them? 

 

“Thanks, Pete.” Happy gave a little smile and Peter returned it immediately. The man didn’t say anything more and he didn’t have to, Peter was just happy to help, even if it meant doing nothing but listening. 

 

Eventually, the time passed as the two talked about whatever (The Snap, school, Spider-Man and Green Goblin, how work was at SI) and Thanksgiving was thrown into the front of Peter’s mind. He should really ask before he forgets. But nothing goes his way a lot of the time, does it? 

 

“You’ll be CEO in a few years and I’ll have to start answering to you.” Happy continued on and Peter swallowed, looking down at the leather armrest of the recliner. That’s a weird thought, and it brought a smidge of nervousness with it. That's right, he was so wrapped up in Gwen, Harry, and Green Goblin that he forgot about the impending doom of running a company in a few years. 

 

Well, he could always decline the opportunity, but would he be happy with that choice? Knowing Mr. Stark trusted him and he still turned his back? 

 

“…do you think I could do it?” Peter whispered. 

 

“I know you can.” Happy said without a hint of hesitation and Peter peaked through his eyelashes and saw the head of security sitting up with a new vigour. “Tony knew it, too.” 

 

With all the talk of Mr. Stark lately, Peter was surprised to now feel tears sting his eyes and the frog in the back of his throat. He felt a tear drop and he quickly wiped it away, a little irritated that he was doing this now, in front of Happy when the man was just grieving his children. 

 

“You’re okay,” Happy and Peter couldn’t stop the eye roll. I’m okay? Clearly not. Peter frowned as he glared at the floor, aggressively wiping his tears. “You’re fine.” 

 

“No, Happy, just—!” Peter cleared his throat, already regretting how he snapped at the man. “I’m sorry… sorry.” He rubbed a hand down his face and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“I miss him too, you know.” Happy said, and Peter peaked his eyes open, still holding tears, and Happy was watching him with an empathetic expression and something else that he couldn’t put his finger on. Recognition? He closed his eyes, feeling tears roll down his cheeks slowly. 

 

“I just,” Peter croaked. “I don’t know how I can live up to him, I mean, I’m not Mr. Stark! I’m not a Stark at all, why was I picked to do this?” He let out a shaky breath, forming his hands into fists and feeling his nails dig into his palms. Little crescents formed and he could feel blood pile up under his nails. Great. “I feel like everyone is-is waiting for some kind of m-miracle from me, waiting for me to say the right thing about being the next in line or to stop another world ending crisis and I-I just—” he hiccuped and covered his face with his hands. “I feel like I’m waiting to let everyone d-down.” He took another deep breath and took his hands from his face, but he didn’t look at Happy again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t shout… I just don’t know if I can be him.”

 

“You’re not going to be him.” Happy said and it felt like a slap in the face. “You’ll never be like Tony, not even Tony could live up to himself. He was my best friend, but if you didn’t think he was a mess, then you’re lying to yourself.” Peter moved his eyes and held contact with Happy, and the man had a bittersweet smile on his face. “He second-guessed everything he did, he was all over the place. The only thing he never second-guessed,” Happy pointed at Peter with a lazy finger, and the teen felt two seconds away from crying again. “Was picking you.”

 

“Really?” Peter breathed. 

 

“I’ll be honest with you, Kid, I never anticipated this.” Happy’s smile turned a little more genuine. “I truthfully thought Germany was a one-time thing. Yet, there I was, being told to pick you up from school just so you can hang out at the compound with Tony for the weekend.” He then chuckled. “Every weekend.”

 

Peter huffed a little laugh too. It was true, the compound was basically his second home, Mr. Stark and Pepper had their own wing and the Avengers had theirs (well, it would’ve been theirs if the Accords didn’t screw them up). 

 

“Tony wouldn’t have given this to you if he thought you weren’t capable.” Pepper had said something along those lines too. “He knew you'd be able to do it. Just like how all of us do.” 

 

Peter heaved out another breath, his eyes still felt slightly wet and his cheeks must still look a little shiny from the tears. How did this get to be? He came over to invite Happy over for Thanksgiving and that led him to helping Happy to feel better and now Happy was helping him. He was going through a rollercoaster and it’s only been two hours since he got to Happy’s place. 

 

I need a nap, he thought. 

 

“Feeling better?” Happy asked and Peter nodded, a tight smile forming. 

 

“Are you?” He whispered.

 

“Yeah,” Happy confirmed with his own nod. “Strangely.” 

 

It wasn’t strange at all but Peter kept his mouth shut. They two sat in silence for a minute and Peter figured now was his opportunity to finally mention Thanksgiving. 

 

“Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving this year, Happy?” He asked, wording it like it just popped up in his head. “If not, would you like to come over? I think we’ll start eating around noon.” 

 

“I’ll be over.” Happy confirmed and if Peter could, he’d pat himself on the back. Got side-tracked a lot but succeeded in the end, Pepper would like this story. 

 

He leaned back in the chair and mulled over his thoughts, the image of Happy changed drastically in his mind and he couldn't believe he hadn’t known that part of the man’s past before. It was certainly an eye opener and while Peter’s never lost a child (or had one, for that matter) or been divorced, he does know what it’s like to lose someone. The pain scale must be different when a parent loses a child versus the other way around, Peter wouldn’t know, but Peter’s heart reaches out for the man all the same. 

 

He hopes Happy doesn’t have to hurt anymore than he already has. 

 

---

 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Pepper heard Rhodey shout from downstairs. She rolled her eyes at his antics as she finished putting her earrings in. She smoothed down her sweater and exited her room, voices from below growing louder and louder. 

 

Happy and Rhodey for sure are down there with her boys and the dog, the only thing she wasn’t sure about is if Peter’s girlfriend would stop over. 

 

What? She could sense those two would get together long before she even met Gwen. She knew it was true the moment Peter and Gwen walked through the cabin's front door. 

 

Plus, Pepper wasn’t an idiot. 

 

Walking down the stairs, she saw Peter and Harley greeting her long-time friends at the door, Rhodey wrapping each of his arms over Peter and Harley’s shoulders, giving a slight squeeze and Pepper soon took their place, Rhodey giving her a big hug. “How are you doing? How’s Morgan?”

 

“We’re both fine, just hungry.” Pepper smiled as she stepped out of his hold, hugging Happy in greeting next. “Let’s finish things up and start eating.” 

 

“My kind of Thanksgiving.” Happy joked as he walked into the kitchen, Rhodey and Pepper following. The boys stayed in the living room and while there was only a wall and large doorway, if they talked normally, the boys would be able to hear them just fine. Especially Peter, with his super hearing. 

 

“Oh, look at all this food.” Rhodey looked up at her and Happy and looked as serious as he could be on this day. “Oh, I’m ‘bout to fuck this all up.” 

 

Happy let out a chuckle while Pepper smiled, shaking her head as she turned the heat down on the crockpots. Keep it warm, not melting. Soon, the three got to talking about their past week, how work has been and how Morgan’s been kicking up a storm every other day it seems. It was nice catching up once more with them. 

 

“Did you get invited last minute, too?” Rhodey asked Happy as the colonel got plates down from the cabinet while Pepper got the silverware. “I got a call at midnight a few days ago, for all you know, I could’ve been invited to a grand ol’ Las Vegas shindig.” 

 

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “And miss the chance to see the boys?” She knows Rhodey and the boys have gotten closer over the months, there’s no way he’d give up the opportunity to see his nephews. 

 

Rhodey sucked his teeth while Happy began to belly laugh and Pepper looked on with a knowing smirk. “Alright, point to you.” 

 

She whispered a victorious “yes” to herself before Happy started to speak, leaning his back shading the sink with his arms crossed. “Peter actually came over to invite me.” 

 

She looked at him as he spoke and remembered how Peter came home later than she thought he would be. She propped a hand on her hip as the other hand leaned against the counter. “How was the visit? He didn’t tell me anything besides that he had a nice time.” 

 

Along the lines of Pepper not being an idiot, she knew what November 20th meant to Happy and she figured Peter could sprinkle in a little of his light onto Happy’s day, even if it was the 18th that Peter went over and not the 20th.

 

Happy nodded slowly and he got this look in his eyes that Pepper’s only seen a handful of times. It was one that showed of his grievances. “It was nice. Catching up and all. He’s still on the fence about running SI.” 

 

Yeah, Pepper’s not surprised. Peter hasn’t talked to her at all about it and due to recent events, she wasn’t shocked. But she can’t help but wonder if Happy said something to the teen, something right. 

 

“He’s capable of running the business.” Rhodey said, leaning his arms on the counter. “But I get it, too young to know what you really want or should do.” 

 

“He’s so sure he won’t live up to Tony.” Happy shook his head slightly, staring at nothing in particular. “But, I swear, I’ve never seen Tony so much in someone until that moment.” 

 

Pepper tilted her head slightly at that comment, but she couldn’t help but remember when she had the same thought just days ago. When Peter was still trying to come up with a cure for Norman, seeing him hunched over papers and chemicals in his lab with slightly crazed hair from the amount of times he ran his hands through it, he looked so much like the man she fell in love with and she got deja-vu from just a glance at him. 

 

“He’s growing up.” Pepper settled on with a tight smile. He still looks and acts like Peter Parker, but he’s growing into a man. With that comes a growth of what was already there, he’s more confident and intuitive, his intellect seems to grow with each passing day and his friendliness and respectfulness is just the icing on this already incredible cake. She can’t wait to meet the man he’ll be in a couple years.

 

“I’ll say,” Rhodey scoffed playfully but there was an air of awkwardness and Pepper couldn't help but feel a little bad. Rhodey and Tony were best friends for years, ever since their college days. She’s sure hearing how much a boy looks like his best friend is a little mood dampening. “The little shit is taller than me now.” 

 

“I think everyone is taller than you.” Happy grumbled as he got some juice out of the fridge, not even bothering to block or escape Rhodey’s slap. Pepper chuckled and called the boys in as dinner was now ready. 

 

Harley slid in first. Literally. His sock covered feet made it easy for him to do and although he slowed as he got closer to Pepper, the boy still fell into her arms a little as she stopped him from his slip-n-slide journey. “Easy, Harles.” 

 

“It was totally unintentional.” The boy defended but the woman could spot a fib a mile away. Harley deflated a little at Pepper’s look. “Somewhat unintentional.” 

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Pepper said as she ushered Harley over to the end of the counter where the plates and silverware are. She looked behind her to see if Peter was walking through the doorway next but it was empty. Millie wasn’t anywhere to be seen either. “Where’s Peter?” 

 

“Outside,” Harley pointed towards the window above the sink that showed the front yard and anything that resided on it. The boy didn’t look up from grabbing some ham. “He said he’d be quick.” 

 

Pepper ignored Happy and Rhodey’s curious stares as she leaned over the sink and peered through the window and she tried to not smile. 

 

Peter stood outside with Millie as a car rolled up their driveway, the golden retriever jumping excitedly but she didn’t leave Peter’s side. The car was put in park, and Gwen Stacy got out of the car. Her long blonde hair was accessorized with a black headband and Pepper looked down at her outfit and she made a mental note of approval.

 

Don’t get Pepper wrong, she doesn’t care at all what people wear. Unless it’s a holiday or work environment. She expects some effort in appearance at certain functions and Gwen passed that test. Black miniskirt with matching black vest that was buttoned, a maroon turtleneck sweater with sheer tights and dark brown heeled boots. 

 

She watched as Millie ran up to her and glued herself to Gwen’s leg and the girl reached down to pet the dog, moving her lips as she obviously spoke to the dog. Peter walked closer to the girl and Pepper watched as Gwen looked up with a smile, the two walking towards the house with Millie following closely. 

 

“Is that who I think it is?” She heard Rhodey breath from behind her and Pepper nodded, a smile growing bigger by the second. “He grew balls.” 

 

“Or they dropped.” Happy said from a little farther away and Pepper rolled her eyes. 

 

“I don’t wanna hear about his balls!” Harley shouted from the main dining area and snorts erupted from the three grown-ups in the kitchen, crowding over the window like a bunch of teenagers. 

 

She gently elbowed the two behind her to move away from the window so she could get her own plate and that’s when Peter and Gwen entered through the door. 

 

Peter had a very weirded out expression on his face and Rhodey and Happy both started to chortle behind her as Pepper walked closer to the pair. “Yeah, I don’t wanna hear about that either.” 

 

“About what?” Gwen questioned from slightly behind Peter as she took her boots off, thigh high cream socks on over her tights. 

 

“Nothing.” Peter said quickly and Pepper all but shoved him away from Gwen, wrapping her arms around the blonde. “Ow.” 

 

“Oh, you’re fine.” She said as she squeezed Gwen tightly. “I’m so happy you showed up. Pete didn’t say you were coming.” 

 

“He didn’t?” Gwen had a slight tone change and Pepper could only imagine she was giving Peter an unimpressed look. One that said, really? “Must’ve wanted to surprise you.” 

 

“That was exactly what I was doing.” Peter said from behind Pepper and the ginger only rolled her eyes once more today. Letting go of Gwen, Pepper turned around and watched as Peter smiled cheekily at her. “I know how much you love her.” 

 

“I say again, you’re a little shit.” Rhodey called from the counter and Peter laughed mockingly at the older man. Rhodey walked closer to the trio and smiled warmly at Gwen, offering his hand to shake. “But you don’t seem to be one. The famous Gwen Stacy.” 

 

Gwen took Rhodey’s hand with no hesitation, her face friendly and warm. “Nice to meet you too, Colonel.” 

 

“Look at that,” Rhodey and Gwen let go of each other's hands and Rhodey looked smug as he looked at everyone. “She called me colonel. That‘s some respect right there.” He looked back at Peter, his smugness turning into teasing. “She could teach you a few things.”

 

“So are we just going to ignore the months I did call you Colonel Rhodes?” Peter asked, a smirk forming. “Or the amount of times you begged me to stop calling you Colonel Rhodes?” 

 

Rhodey’s grin fell and he looked at Pepper, everyone else snickering from concealed laughs, she even saw Gwen hide her smile behind her hand. “Do you not ever ground this kid?” 

 

Peter barked out a laugh and reached for Gwen, his hand on her shoulder as they both walked closer to the food. Pepper and Rhodey watched as Peter handed the blonde her plate before grabbing his own, the two dishing up as Happy looked on with a sharp eye and crossed arms.

 

Pepper’s smile grew as Gwen waved and smiled at Happy before continuing to load her plate with Thanksgiving food. The man’s eyes grew ever so softer but Pepper could tell he liked the teen. She knows she does and Rhodey does seem to be in the same boat. She was glad Peter and Gwen found each other, they both looked at ease and comfortable with each other. 

 

A nudge to her arm, Rhodey and she walked up to the food next as Peter and Gwen joined Harley in the main dining area, the younger teen still waiting for them. He challenged himself last night to not eat after a certain time so he’ll be more hungry and prepared for today. As long as she doesn’t have an abundance of leftovers, she’s fine with however much he eats. 

 

Soon, all six of them sat around the table, the overhead chandelier casting a warm glow down onto them all and Harley looked the most bored. Sorry, Harley, she thought. Gonna have to wait a little longer. 

 

“Before we begin eating,” she started. “There’s just a few things I’d like to say. I’m not really into the whole… praying before we eat thing but it was a habit for Tony just because of how he was raised. So, seeing as… we’re his family whether he’s here or not, I thought it would be nice to at least do a little speech beforehand.” She licked her lips and stood up from her chair, everyone watching as she did so. 

 

“This year has been… shitty, to say the least,” she smiled as everyone let out their own noises of amusement and agreement. “And it’s been a tough road. But look at us now.” She gestured towards Peter and Harley, a fond and loving smile making its way to her lips. “I got my boys, who are both becoming amazing men. Both striving for excellence and finding their places in this world, finding the right people,” this time she looked at Gwen. “I’m so happy you’re one of them.” 

 

Gwen smiled back but she looked shyly down at her plate, Peter poking her arm playfully and the girl lightly slapping his hands away. 

 

“I got this wonderful gift in my womb,” Pepper carried on, rubbing her hand over the bump. “That will be coming into this world sooner than later and life will just become even more hectic than it is now but we’re ready for it.” She looked at Rhodey and Happy next, leaning towards them slightly. “And I never thought we could grow closer than before.” It’s true, she literally did not think it was physically possible. “I mean, I thought we were close before, no way did I think it could exceed to where we are now.” 

 

She took her glass of juice, nonalcoholic (unlike her two best friends), and everyone else followed, holding them up a little. “We have found the good through the bad, we got back up when we thought we never could. I know we all still struggle and there’s some days where we’re just sad and missing them. But we’ve made great strides and I could not be more proud.” Raising her glass a little higher, she finished off her speech. “Here’s to us and progress. Here’s to those who couldn’t be with us today and will forever be held in our hearts.”

Notes:

So I gave Happy a more in depth, tragic past.

Sue me🫣

Chapter 24

Gwen thought she warmed up to Peter’s family quickly, it certainly helped that she’s met Pepper and Harley before today. She ate her food as Peter’s family recounted memories and told jokes, she laughed when they did and kept quiet while others talked. She let her own commentary slip and it seemed to be the right thing to say because everyone would either agree or laugh along with her. 

 

This was nice, she’s forgotten how much fun a family dinner can be. Dinner with her grandma was nice and never quiet but it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t filled with laughs or jokes. 

 

It was filled with everything her family dinner never was. 

 

She got a second chance with Peter’s family and she couldn’t be more grateful. 

 

“So, Gwen,” Pepper began and Gwen perked up, loosening her hold on her fork. “Did you and your family ever go ice skating? I took the boys a few weeks ago and it may as well have been their first day on their feet.” 

 

“I resent that.” Harley said, taking a bite of his food. “I was doing just fine. It was him,” he jabbed his thumb in Peter’s direction. “That kept knocking me over.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Pepper challenged.

 

Gwen smiled and watched as Pepper pulled out her phone and pulled up a video, showing the rest of the table. Pepper was standing outside the rink and zoomed in on Peter and Harley skating around, other people around either skating like a pro or also their first time on skates. Gwen giggled as Peter was slowly gliding along the ice, wobbly but she gives him credit for staying on his feet. 

 

Next thing she sees, Harley comes barreling in from nowhere, flinging his arms around in a big windmill like motion, his back leaning incredibly far back with his hips guiding him. Harley yelled something intangible and Peter looked back but didn’t move in time. Harley crashed hard into Peter and the two went down, their skates slipping from under them so their fall had a harsher landing. Gwen winced as she saw Peter’s chin hit the ice, reaching up to gently rub her own chin like she was the one to get hurt. Pepper sighed deeply, almost defeatedly, in the video and the recording came to an end. 

 

“He kept knocking you over?” Rhodey snorted, shaking his head while Happy chuckled, making Pepper promise to send that video to him later. Gwen giggled once more as Harley’s face grew red, he didn’t have any comebacks for that piece of evidence and Peter was smirking into his glass as he drank his juice. 

 

She feels like her brother would be good friends with Harley. Nate was a little bit more reserved but otherwise, the two could be personality twins. 

 

“Yes,” Gwen finally answered, rolling her shoulders back as she sat up straighter. “Yes, we skated a lot. Nate—my younger brother—he was in hockey, Zach and Tim—my other two younger brothers—weren’t in the sport but they enjoyed going around the rink.” 

 

“Are you any good?” Harley asked, his face returning to its normal color as he began to eat his food again. 

 

Gwen nodded. “I like to think so. My mom used to take me every Friday during the winter. Ballet and skating go hand-in-hand in a lot of ways and it helps with movement and stability.” She scratched her cheek a little, suddenly shy with all the stares. “I haven’t gone at all this year.” 

 

“Would you still want to?” Peter asked and she looked over at him, shifting a little in her seat. 

 

“I would love to,” she started. “I just… there’s not a lot of time I have available to do that anymore.”

 

“We can make time!” Peter beamed and she was suddenly a little scared by the gleam in his eyes, a look on his face that screams he has an idea and she’s not sure if she’ll like it. He looked over at Pepper. “You still have your ice skates right?” 

 

“Yeah…?” Pepper drawled and she seemed to be in the same mindset as Gwen. 

 

“What shoe size are you?” He asked both of them at the same time, looking back and forth between the ginger and the blonde. “If it’s the same or close, Gwen could possibly borrow yours and we can go out on the lake! It has been below freezing for weeks, the lake is sure to be completely frozen and pretty thick.” 

 

“Wait, you wanna ice skate now?” Gwen asked after she and Pepper both said their size. The woman is taller than Gwen by a few inches but either Pepper has small feet for a five foot nine woman or Gwen has big feet for being five foot four. 

 

Size eights aren’t that big on her, are they?

 

“Unless you wanna get another plate or relax some more?” Peter said and Gwen did look back at her plate and it’s been cleaned off for quite some time now. She wasn’t hungry for more and looking back up at the others, she could tell they’re all curious to see her skate. Oh well. 

 

“Ah… no, I’m good to go.” Gwen smiled, getting up from her seat, Peter following. “I’ll skate.” 

 

“Great,” Peter smiled, collecting both their dishes, raising his voice the farther he walked away into the kitchen to drop the dishes off. “I’ll find them!” 

 

“They’d be in the storage closet in the pantry!” Pepper called as she took one last bite of her meal, everyone else’s plates cleared. She looked back at Harley, Happy, and Rhodey. “Want to watch with us?” 

 

“Might as well.” Rhodey nodded. “Plus, I can’t wait to see her,” his eyes looked at Gwen before turning to Pepper. “Show him up.” 

 

“Is it your goal to see him fail?” Pepper teased and Gwen pressed her lips tightly together to stop a smile. 

 

“That kid won’t stop being good at shit, and he’s taller than me, so yes, I at least would like to see him fall on his ass while skating.” Rhodey was definitely a tough-love kind of uncle, and Gwen can’t see him acting any other way. It just suits him. 

 

Peter raced back into the dining room with two white skates hanging from his fingers, handing them to Gwen. He looked cocky as he addressed Rhodey (it’s still so weird to Gwen that he can hear things for miles). “You’re going to eat your words, Rhodey.” 

 

---

 

Rhodey did, in fact, not eat his words. 

 

While Gwen strutted down the dock on the skates like they were normal shoes, not once wobbling or tripping on her feet, Peter made it two steps before he fell to his knees with a startled yelp. Okay, backtrack on my earlier words, he thought. 

 

He got back to his feet and Gwen stood at the end of the dock, waiting for him with a patient smile and he can only thank whatever being there is out there that no one else saw him fall. 

 

Rhodey, Harley, and Happy would never let him live it down. 

 

As he got within reaching distance, Gwen offered him her hand and he gladly took it. Was it because he needed help or because he liked the feeling of her hand in his? The world may never know. 

 

She gave him a supportive smile before she let go of his hand and climbed down the ladder. He watched as she got to the second to last step and stuck out her leg and she turned her body with it. The blade of her skate connected with the ice and the blonde pushed off, gliding along the clear ice as if there was no ice to begin with and she was standing on water. 

 

The cloudless, bright blue sky and orange sun added to the elegance Gwen unleashes as she pumps her legs to go fast along the ice, turning in wide circles and doing footwork she’d probably dismiss but Peter could only dream to accomplish. 

 

He dropped to sit in the dock, letting his feet hang as he heard his family walk out of the house, they all wanted to get bundled up first but Gwen declined, saying she’ll be warm enough once she gets on the ice and Peter followed suit. 

 

Now, as the cold air hits him, he wishes he grabbed his coat. 

 

“Ah, didn’t want to join her?” Happy asked as they got closer and Peter couldn’t take his eyes off Gwen, shaking his head in response. He wasn’t sure if he should, Gwen was just… making the lake her home. Peering closer, he could see that her eyes were closed as she moved, her arms out and flowing with her motion. 

 

Gwen took a sharp turn, one foot in the ice while she crossed her other leg over, her arms level with her chest. She started to spin in place and as she straightened her legs and brought her arms closer to her middle, she spun faster and faster until her arms were both above her head and she twirled. 

 

Peter’s not sure what else to do but drop his jaw. 

 

As quickly as she started, thought, she stopped, slowing her spin down and lifting a foot off the ground as she skated backwards and in a small curve before planting both feet back on the ice and smiling brightly as Peter started to clap for her. 

 

“That was awesome!” He yelled, knowing for sure he’d end up on his butt if he did that. The others each clapped too, saying their own words of praise. Gwen skated closer and as she did, Peter lowered his voice. “What else can you do?”

 

Gwen shrugged, sharply coming to a stop as she positioned her feet sideways, little bits of ice coming up from it and Peter watched as it sprinkled on his own skates. “Nothing Olympic.” 

 

“So you can’t do a backflip?” Harley challenged as he leaned his elbow on a pole that went through the dock and into the water. “Or what about a jumping spin?”

 

“I never said I can’t do that.” Gwen said with a smirk, slowly skating backwards. 

 

“You gotta prove it.” Harley shrugged and Peter lightly scoffed, reaching backwards to lightly hit Harley in the legs. 

 

Gwen didn’t respond, she just simply turned around and pushed herself off the ice, gaining a little more speed as she went. She skated off to Peter’s left and came to a stop, turning around until she’d be running to Peter’s right. 

 

She pushed off the ice and skated to the middle of the lake, turning her body around to face Peter’s left and bent her knees and jumped. She arched her back and led with her left leg, almost doing a perfect split midair as she was upside down, landing on her left leg perfectly as her right leg remained elevated behind her, making a perfect ninety degree angle. She had her arms out once more as she skated in a circle on her one leg. 

 

“She should’ve bet you for money.” Happy chuckled as Peter heard him lightheartedly elbow Harley in the back and the younger teen squeaked and Peter’s pretty sure Harley rolled his eyes. Raising his voice, Happy called out to Gwen. “Come get your money!” 

 

“No, wait! She hasn’t done a jump spin!” Harley yelled out in alarm, stuffing his hands in his pockets as if that’ll protect his money. 

 

Gwen, skating towards them already, move a little faster and jumped, spinning twice in the air before landing with grace never once stopping until she was besides Peter once more, resting her arms on the dock next to his thighs with an awaiting hand, palm up for the money. 

 

Peter snickered as Harley was suddenly lifted in the air by Happy as Rhodey tried to get Harley’s hands out of his pockets. “Wait, no! I’m being mugged!” Harley shouted, not trying hard to suppress his giggles as Happy shook him. “This is illegal! Mom, help me! I didn’t agree to this!” 

 

But Pepper ignored him as she walked closer to Peter and Gwen, watching the scene unfold. “Oh, honey, you should’ve read the fine print.” 

 

“Where’s that in a speech?” Harley laughed as Rhodey resulted in tickling the younger teen. Harley didn’t give in, he tried to kick the men away but refused to bring his hands out of his pockets. His face was growing red and Peter let out his own laugh at Harley’s misfortune.

 

“That’s what happens with bets.” Pepper shrugged like she had absolutely no control over anything and Harley tried to glare through the gears that sprung up through his laughter. “Sorry, honey, not much I can do.” 

 

“Oh, you know what, Harley?” Gwen dropped her hand but smiled a little wickedly as Rhodey stopped tickling and Harley hung in the air. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll just make sure to cash in my winnings later.” 

 

Harley was dropped back down to the dock and he barely caught himself in time, stumbling a bit and scowling at the two older men besides him before looking at Gwen. “You evil woman. Don’t tell me I gotta be your minion.” 

 

“Would you rather you give me the money?” She had Harley in a figurative chokehold and he only groaned like any teenager does (Peter can recognize that he’s a bit of a drama queen, too) and walked towards the house, Happy and Rhodey following and teasing Harley while Pepper bent a little to properly place both her hands on top of his and Gwen’s heads for a second before following the others to the house. 

 

Gwen and Peter remained the only two outside and he looked down at her to see she’s already looking at him, her lashes even darker and longer with the added mascara and her pink lips still looked fresh with gloss. 

 

He couldn’t help himself but to bend down a little and connected his lips with hers, a squeak falling from her lips but she kissed back just as delicately. One of his hands came up to the back of her head to hold her in place while the other played with her fingers, cold but no less soft. 

 

It took all his willpower to not keep kissing her, not in front of the house where anyone could look out a window and see just how gone he’d become if he didn’t stop, how he’d literally trap her in his arms and not stop unless told so. Plus, he didn’t want to fall off the dock and potentially bring Gwen down with him. 

 

So he parted and she let out a small hum but didn’t object to the distance. Instead, they kept playing with each other's fingers before the girl had enough and just simply held his hand in hers, and he watched as she observed their hands, both pale but his skin showed that he wasn’t as fair as her. The differences in size as his hands made hers look smaller than normal. 

 

Crazy that not even a year ago, his hands were just a tad bigger than hers are now. 

 

“You’re really pretty.” He murmured, and he can’t even explain why he felt the need to say that at this moment. It's not the first time he’s complimented her beauty and it won’t ever be the last. 

 

Gwen only smiled bigger and tugged him closer, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips but didn’t linger. Her blue eyes stared into his brown eyes and all that was accompanied was the winds and the sounds of the chimes making music. 

Notes:

Sorry it’s so short, next chapter shouldn’t be!❤️

Chapter 25

Jogging used to be about keeping his stamina high, something he was forced to endure before he got the super soldier serum. He used to hate it, he got all sweaty and he always fell behind, his asthma always flared and was often poked fun at by the others. After the injection, it was easier to do all the things he couldn’t before, which included running without worrying if he’ll pass out. It was an activity that he grew to enjoy each morning before breakfast, running with his comrades to get the blood pumping and to wake everyone up faster. It was a task each and every morning and it was habit to just get up and go. 

 

Then it was about being alone long enough to grasp the changes the world has been through since he was frozen, to subtly look around and take it all in. It used to be about quietly placing each and every thought in their own boxes and running through each of them in order so by the end, he’d be fully caught up on whatever it was that was causing him trouble and even have a few solutions.

 

Then it was just habit once again, enjoying the early morning chill where he’d get that familiar but comforting burning in his lungs from inhaling such cold air and puffing it back out, warmer. Never once was it strigorous to him, just fun to feel it. 

 

Then The Snap happened and jogging was once more just a way to escape reality for an hour. Or two. Or three. Maybe sometimes more. To come up with different ways to keep living and to not miss those he lost. To just… run and keep going until he couldn’t. It’s gotten to the point where he’d leave to run before the sun rose and come back to it being directly above him, he’d often go back to the compound to find Natasha eating lunch. 

 

It might not be the best way to deal with things but there’s a lot worse that he could do and he’ll gladly take the much lesser of the two evils. 

 

So that leads him to now, still jogging even with the thin layer of snow that fell on the sidewalks, staring straight ahead of him as other people passed by, some on their way to work or running very early errands. 

 

November 26th and it was the first day of school after Thanksgiving break, he can imagine Peter’s super pumped about it. As he jogged, school buses passed by and kids were either looking out the windows like they’re being sent to their doom or talking with friends and probably being too loud for 8:00 in the morning. 

 

He remembers his own school days and he wonders how much different their curriculum is. Peter isn’t really a good example, his school was literally built for genius kids and now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure Brooklyn or surrounding areas didn’t have any school like that when he was a boy. 

 

Doesn’t matter in the end, Steve graduated with honors but he wanted to help fight for his country, not be a scientist. 

 

Stopping with some other pedestrians at the crosswalk, Steve waited for the traffic to be in their favor before crossing the street and as he waited, he caught a whiff of strong coffee as it hit his nose. Looking to his right, he saw a woman holding her cup of coffee tightly in both hands, using it to warm herself up. Coffee does sound good, couldn’t hurt to get something in his system. 

 

Looking away from the woman, he spotted a diner and realized with a start that he hadn't visited it since he was first unfrozen. He remembers sitting outside and sketching a skyscraper, speaking briefly with a waitress. He hasn’t been there in… well, forever is a drastic term (the word holds new meaning with him after being frozen for seventy years), but it’s been a good amount of years. 

 

So he decided to switch his point of destination to the little restaurant down the street, jogging over to it. Their chairs and tables were gone, and must've been pulled in due to the cold weather. But the smell of coffee beans and pancakes kept his feet moving and he walked in, their open sign blinking. 

 

He was greeted by a worker at the counter, the few customers in the building not looking up from their newspapers or food. It was a majority of elders and college age kids. 

 

“I’ll be right with ya!” A worker smiled over her shoulder for a second as he approached the counter. She continued to mess with the coffee machine and Steve felt his eyebrows raise a little as she smacked the side of the machine a few times before the familiar sounds of it working filled the air and it sputtered out coffee. 

 

He remembers liking the way this diner ran things. People were more than welcomed to sit down and have a hearty breakfast or lunch, but if they just wanted a simple drink whether it be coffee or a smoothie, they make it as fast as any Starbucks would. 

 

He used that time to look up at the board, though he doesn’t know why he does. Black coffee was always his go-to and he’s not hungry for any food at the moment, so he just waits till the worker is ready. 

 

In no time, the worker approached the register with a tired but cheery smile. “Alright, what can I—oh.” 

 

“Morning, Lelia.” He greeted, feeling a little uncomfortable with the way she looked like someone told her a volcano was twelve seconds away from erupting and she was in the death zone. “You’re going to catch flies.” He said. 

 

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry!” Lelia squeaked out an awkward laugh. “It’s just that, I mean, you’re Captain America! You know my name! And there's kinda been a bet to see when you’d come back.” 

 

He wasn’t going to mention that her nametag clued him in on her name, she’d probably realize that later. But what did she mean by bets? It's been a couple years since he’s been by, and that was before his official debut as the returned Captain America.

 

“Bethany served you when you were here last and, like, months later you saved New York! We were all like, super shocked that Captain America was this guy that was busy drawing and looking… uh, preoccupied.” Lelia quieted down a bit and scratched the back of her neck before her cheery demeanor came back like a flash. “Sorry! I’m sorry, this is kinda a lot to talk about at,” she looked up at a clock behind Steve. “A quarter after eight.” 

 

“It’s okay.” He smiled and quickly said his order. Lelia was quick to start his drink and he cleared his throat. “So, Bethany still work here?” 

 

“Oh, no.” Lelia shook her head, grabbing a medium coffee cup. “You’d have to be insane to stay here longer than you have to. I’m only here because my pay is too good for a part timer and I have bills to take care of.” She poured the hot coffee into the cup. “Beth was an art major when the aliens attacked in 2012 but since she graduated a couple years ago, she’s been working at an art gallery down Main Street as a director.” 

 

Placing the fresh cup of coffee down on the counter for him to take, she smiled and he thanked her for the drink and for the conversation, a strongly needed one. It was nice to talk to someone so… chatty. He wished her a good rest of her day and walked out of the cafe, not before hearing Lelia call out to some guy named Dan about owing her and Bethany money. 

 

He chuckled at that as he walked down the sidewalk, the air still cold but a little warmer than it was fifteen minutes ago. He sipped his coffee and felt the warmness spread down his body and he shivered, maybe he needed this more than he thought. 

 

He walked mindlessly as he sipped his coffee, telling himself to finish the drink before continuing his run. But as he walked, he noticed that he made it to Main Street and he saw the art gallery Lelia told him Bethany worked at. He remembers her clearly, even after years of not seeing her again. Her blonde curly hair and bright blue eyes. She was very nice, and he couldn't help but wonder if her being an art major and seeing him sketch was the reason why she stood around for a second longer before leaving him be. 

 

Did she want to talk about art? Was she curious? Lelia said he looked preoccupied, was that also why Bethany (does she go by Beth or was that just a nickname among friends?) left him alone? In truth, he was entirely too distracted to hold a proper conversation, he was still trying to come to terms that he’s seventy years in the future and that everyone he knew and loved was dead or was soon to be. He’s been alone before but that was the first time he’s ever felt lonely and lost. 

 

Deciding at the last minute, he took a chance. It would also probably do him some good to at least socialize with someone that’s not Natasha, Bruce, or Rhodey. He doesn’t want to feel lonely again, he’s had enough of that to last him many lifetimes. 

 

Walking into the gallery, he felt the warm air wash over him like a hug and he walked through a metal scanner, the security guard giving nothing more than a lazy thumbs up as Steve walked in further. It was pretty empty but Steve expected as such. He walked around for a while, finding peace in looking at the art and reading little paragraphs about some sculptures and paintings. 

 

It wasn’t until he reached the second floor that he saw her and he stopped in his tracks. She was in a black turtleneck and light brown pants with a dark brown belt to match. Her black heels echoing as she walks with a colleague of hers. 

 

Her hair was long and bounced with each step she took and Steve downed the remaining coffee he had before properly disposing of the cup. They walked past him and he wasn’t sure if he should follow or get their attention. They were slowly walking farther away from him and following would probably be creepy. 

 

“Excuse me?” He called out, making Bethany and her coworker both stop as they looked at him from over their shoulders, their faces open and polite, like they were silently saying, “Yes! Welcome! How can I help you today!” 

 

But recognition quickly set in their eyes, her coworker less subtle about it than her. He smiled and waved, Bethany tilted her head slightly as she smiled but the guy next to her only stumbled over his words and looked like he won the lottery. 

 

“Ah, John,” Bethany said at last, not looking away from Steve. John looked between her and Steve like he was afraid Steve would disappear. “Do you wanna meet with everyone in the board room? I’ll be right behind you.” 

 

“Oh, uh, you sure? I mean, it’s Steve fucking Rogers—”

 

“John,” Bethany looked away and nodded her head towards the staircase where Steve could see an employee's only door. “I’ll be right behind you.” 

 

John slowly inched away but with a look Steve couldn’t see Bethany give him, John finally walked towards the stairs and once the employee's only door was shut, Bethany started to walk closer to Steve. 

 

“If you have something to attend to—” he began but Bethany shook her head, her smile still in place and she looked him up and down. 

 

“We help customers first and foremost over employee duties.” She says and he gets the idea she’s had to say that a lot. “I just… this is a shock.” She crossed her arms over her chest, propping a hip out. “I never expected to see you again.”

 

“An old coworker of yours told me you’d be here.” He explained, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Her name is Lelia?” 

 

Bethany smiled a bit wider, looking up in amusement “Oh, Lelia. She’s such a sweet girl but she can talk your ear off.” 

 

“I got a taste of that this morning,” he chuckled with her. “Made it eventful.” 

 

“You got lucky, at eight in the morning that’s her calmest hour.” Bethany giggled, fondness in her eyes. “So, uh,” she toed the ground with her heel, and he couldn’t help but notice that her nonchalance needed a bit of work. “You asked about me?” 

 

“I did.” He didn’t see the point in lying, he’s not a teenager too bashful to talk to a woman. Even though he technically hasn’t been on a date or really talked to a woman outside of business only activities. Plus, he’s only kissed three, one that he lost in time, the other being his closest red headed friend, the last being the niece of the woman he once loved. But Bethany isn’t Peggy, or Natasha, or Sharon. She’s her own woman. A very pretty woman, he thought to himself. “I haven’t been to the diner since and I was on a jog, thought I’d stop by.” 

 

“Well, you found me.” Bethany said softly. “Did you get black coffee again?”

 

He’s more than a little surprised when she asks that, it’s been a couple years and she must’ve gotten a million orders of black coffee. His blink and lack of words must’ve been amusing cause she laughed. 

 

“You remember that?” He asked. 

 

“Well, I mean, it’s not everyday that you take Captain America’s order.” She continued to laugh. “It almost escaped my brain but when the aliens attacked and you were publicly declared unfrozen, it just,” she tapped her fingers to the side of her rhythmically. “Front and center.” 

 

“So you didn’t know who I was?” It’s not much of a surprise, not many knew it would be possible and if it’s not possible, people won’t assume he’s Steve Rogers, seventy years later and still looking the same. 

 

“Of course not.” Bethany shrugged. “I just saw a cute guy sketching and wanted to wait on him.” 

 

“Cute guy, huh?” He couldn’t help but tease and Bethany’s cheeks grew a little pink but she didn’t back down, smiling challengingly, like she was waiting for him to say more. “So did you make that bet before or after the attack?” 

 

Her smirk fell and she blinked and he couldn’t help but give himself a mental high five. She seemed momentarily stunned like there was no way he’d know about that. “It might’ve been before,” Bethany answered at last. “Not that you need to worry about that.” 

 

“Making a bet to see if the cute guy would come back, and myself being the proclaimed cute guy, I think I do need to worry.” Steve said, inching a little closer to Bethany and the girl only made a face that looked like a mildly embarrassed Kirby. “You best go get your cash.” 

 

Bethany only huffed with an eyeroll but he could see her fighting to keep her smile off her face, amusement clear in her eyes. “So that’s why you came by,” she seems very sure of herself. “To tease me about a bet I made six years ago.” 

 

“Better late than never, if you ask me.” He shrugged, still standing close to Bethany. “For example,” he’s not sure what possessed him to do this, it’s like this morning was completely improved or his mental list just shredded itself up. He’s not sure if he’s been this impulsive with women before. “Would you maybe want to go out sometime? I know I’m six years late, but maybe I can make up for it.” 

 

Bethany’s smug look fell and suddenly she looked like John, though less starstruck but completely in shock and while it usually caused Steve some sort of discomfort whenever people looked at him like that (call him humble, his mother raised him better than to gloat in the limelight), seeing Bethany with wide eyes and raised eyebrows (though she wasn’t resembling a fly trap waiting to attack), it might’ve caused him some mirth. 

 

“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question. “You want to.”

 

“I do.” Steve nodded and he was completely serious. He's not sure if either of them will have a good time but it doesn’t hurt to try. Besides, she’s cute as well. “We could go out to a nice restaurant or maybe you like dancing?” 

 

“You’d want to?” She asked after a harsh blink, her eyes must be dry from the staring. “Sure, yeah! I love dancing! I’m… uh, when would be a good day?”

 

“Don’t worry about me.” Especially since he doesn’t have much to do anytime soon. “I’ll make it work.”

 

“I’ll make sure to wear my best dress.” Bethany brushed some hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. The employee-only door opened and a different, older man peeked out, smiling politely at Steve before giving Bethany a look that basically told her to get a move on.

 

“Seems I’ve kept you long enough.” Steve nodded at the man before looking back at Bethany who took a little handheld notebook and pen out of her pocket. 

 

“This is my number,” she scribbled down at it. “And my address.” Clicking the pen, she smiled brightly at Steve and handed him the little piece of paper. “Wednesday I get off early and I know this dance club that’s a few blocks from my apartment. Maybe we could go there and get dinner after? There’s this amazing Italian place you have got to try.” She then blinked. “Unless you’ve already had it before…?”

 

He held up the paper like a silent promise before ticking it into his joggers. He's starting to guess that Lelia isn’t the only chatterbox that worked at the cafe. It’s nice to know that Bethany is talking a bit more, maybe that means she’s getting a bit more comfortable?

 

“I’ll pick you up Wednesday, five o’clock on the dot.” He began to walk towards her, her back faced the exit. He stood shoulder to shoulder with her, each look in different directions but he leaned down a little, his voice lower. “I’ll call you later.” 

 

Bethany only nodded but didn’t look at him again, so he made his way towards the exit with the older gentleman chastising Bethany about getting sidetracked with guests. 

 

---

 

Beth rushed around her loft apartment as the time ticked closer to 5:00. She had curlers in her hair still and one eye had completed makeup while the other was bare. She hopped on one foot as she tried to clip her heels with one hand because the other hand was holding her eyeshadow brush. 

 

She was a mess. 

 

A soon to be gorgeous mess, but a mess all the same. 

 

She opted to wear a dress that doesn’t look like she was getting ready for homecoming or prom, but one that she’s sure Steve will like. It’s definitely on the bit longer side than what she usually wears, but the flowy skirt that reaches just below her knees will keep her from getting too warm while she dances. 

 

The dress is an off white color that has a thin belt that hugs her waist. It keeps her cleavage modest but not hidden, the straps are a tank fashion as it wraps snug over her shoulders. She just needs to add a simple necklace and earrings, the curlers out of her hair, add spray and brush through it, finish her makeup and she’ll be set! 

 

Parlor the Cat was staring at her as she moved every which way, sitting comfortably but attentively on the arm of her sofa, his pupils round and his tail gently tapping against the furniture. 

 

She reached to pet him gently behind his ears, his tuxedo fur long and soft but she couldn’t get distracted now! She’s only got half an hour before Steve arrives and she’d rather not make him wait. That would be awful. 

 

Her music played loud enough to be heard clearly over all her commotion, moving her hips slightly to the beat and feeling the skirt of her dress gently move across the skin of her legs. Her heels added a good four inches to her height and maybe a couple years ago she’d be a little hesitant to wear these heels to go dancing, but after dancing in these shoes and having no problems, it’s the least of her worries. 

 

A timer on her phone went off at 5:00 and she immediately heard the sound of knocking at her door. She shut off her music and let out a deep breath before plastering a smile on her face and opening the door. The first thing she saw was a bouquet of flowers of all colors and the smell was heavenly. 

 

She looked up and Steve was greeting her with his own smile, his hair was combed back and he smelled just as good as the flowers but in completely different ways. She looked down at his outfit as subtly as she could and admired his pressed white shirt, khaki pants and dark brown shoes. 

 

It matched her outfit perfectly. 

 

“Oh, Steve, these are beautiful.” She said, taking them from him and gently sniffing them. “Where did you get these? These flowers aren’t even in season.” 

 

“Just need to know the right place to look.” He says and she playfully rolls her eyes. Maybe it’s something to do with his life as Captain America, a lame secret best kept with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

 

Whatever, the flowers are beautiful and the gesture was so kind, she’ll take what she can get. 

 

She invites him in as she goes to grab a vase. Filling it up with water, she looks over her shoulder to see Steve looking at Parlor the Cat, who’s also staring at the war hero. She smiles and places the bouquet into the vase, setting it on her table. 

 

“That’s Parlor the Cat.” She says, going over to pick up the house cat and bring him closer to Steve. “You aren’t allergic, right?” 

 

“Not anymore.” Steve says as he reaches to pat the cat's head, Parlor stretches his neck a bit to rub his head into the man’s palm. “Hey, Parlor the Cat. How are you doing, buddy?” Still smiling and petting the cat, Steve looks at her. “What’s the story behind his name?” 

 

“I found him in a parlour.” She explains simply, setting the cat back down on the sofa before facing Steve again.  

 

“Should’ve guessed.” Steve chuckles. “You look beautiful.” 

 

She did a little twirl, grabbing the fabric to make sure it didn’t do anything it shouldn’t. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” 

 

With that, two walk out of the loft, Beth whispering a farewell to her cat as she closed the door and together, the two walked out of the apartment and she was glad that she grabbed a fur coat, Steve wearing his own jacket. 

 

“So, this dance club has different decade music each week.” She explains as the two cross the street. “Sometimes it’s the ‘40s or ‘70s. They will play all the greatest hits whether it’s singing or instrumental.” 

 

“Do you know what tonight’s theme will be?” Steve asked as he offered her a hand and she surprised herself by taking it with no issue, wrapping her other hand around his arm as they walked together, the sidewalks cleared of snow and ice and people walked around them, not sparing them a second glance. 

 

She was okay with that, she was sure Steve wouldn’t like the attention, especially with how he acted when John started to become a fanboy. 

 

“I don’t, but that’s part of the surprise.” She smiled cheekily and he laughed, walking in-step with each other. As they wandered farther down the street, they began to talk about their favorite artists and she was curious how he got started in sketching. He explained it was a thing he would do to pass the time if he were bored and it eventually got better and better as time went on. 

 

He taught himself perspective and the difference between shadows and lights, and his most recent one before being frozen was of him as a circus monkey. 

 

“At the beginning, people thought of me as a joke,” he explained with a light tone. “They didn’t think that I could really help, that I was nothing more than another Uncle Sam. I felt like a dancing monkey instead of a soldier.” 

 

“You changed their minds rather quickly.” She remembers the stories of how Captain America saved the 107th Infantry Regiment and suddenly, he was not only the public’s favorite but the military’s. “You became the hero you and them needed.” 

 

She felt his hand squeeze hers for a second and she relished in the added warmth. Snow began to slowly fall and the city's lights made it feel like she was in a movie. Christmas music played in every other store and the sounds of her heels clicked not as obnoxiously as it would have if she were with her friends or by herself. 

 

This was nice, she feels at peace walking with him, it’s like they’ve done this before. 

 

“What do you think you’d be doing right now if you never found me?” She suddenly asked and once she processed her own words, she stared wide eyed at the ground. Did I really just ask him that? 

 

Steve didn’t answer right away and she was tempted to take it back or tell him to not answer that question but he made a thoughtful sound and she found herself suddenly intrigued by his reaction. Okay, it could’ve been worse. “I would be thinking about you.” 

 

She felt her cold cheeks warm up slightly. “Really?” 

 

“Yeah,” he said so confidently that she didn’t even need to hear anymore of his reason. “I imagine I still would’ve stopped at the diner and gotten coffee.” They stopped at a crosswalk and waited while traffic was going. “Lelia still would’ve mentioned you and I would've left, still thinking about you.” He looked at her. “The only difference would be that I would look at the art gallery and decide that bothering you while you work wouldn’t be the greatest thing.” 

 

“So you made your decision impulsively?” She asked with a light air to her voice. “You’re telling me that this night wouldn’t be a thing if you thought about it for a second longer?” She never would’ve pinged him as an impulsive man at first glance but all things considered, she supposes she expected that. 

 

“I’ll admit my critical thinking skills did fly out the window while I was thinking about you.” He said and she barked out a laugh. “Would you stop laughing—it's not that funny!”

 

Apparently he also thought it was funny cause he started to join her in the little laughter fit. It was just a little maddening to realize that America’s Golden Boy is a dork when it comes to women.

 

“I’ll stop laughing if you do.” She promises and while he tries to keep a straight face, she sees the twitch in his lips and the way his Adam’s apple bobs are he tries to stop the laugh. “Come on, Steve, don’t laugh.” 

 

He looks at her again and points at her in a scolding-like manner and she raises an eyebrow. “Now, you know what you’re doing.” 

 

“What am I doing?” She knows exactly. “Don’t laugh, don’t do it.” 

 

“Stop it.” He nudges his shoulder into hers gently and a small chortle falls out of him and she victoriously pumps her fist. “Well, congratulations, you win.” 

 

“I win regardless if you laughed or not,” the entrance to the dance club came into view, only a few more steps. “I’m on a date with Steve Rogers, can many others say the same?” 

 

She shoots him a grin before walking up the stairs to the door and she waits while Steve looks at her, his cheeks pink from the cold air (she hopes it’s also because she left him flustered) and lips parted, his blue eyes wide. Did she maybe say something wrong? It was supposed to be a flirty comment but if came off the wrong way—

 

Steve moved before she saved herself from the commentary and his chest was pressed into her arm and shoulder, his large hand covering hers that was holding the door open. She clenched her teeth and sudden proximity but found herself not minding it. He leaned down and spoke husky (or was it just her mind playing tricks?). “A gentleman should be opening a door for a pretty lady.” 

 

She stared into his eyes but dropped her hand from the door and he opened it a little wider but neither made a move to go inside, the snow still falling into their hair and onto their shoulders. Up close, she could see the purple hues under his eyes that she never noticed before, his long lashes that brushed his cheekbones and his naturally pinkish lips still parted. 

 

She’s always thought he was handsome, back when she was still a waitress and he was still a nameless stranger that seemed utterly too sad to be left alone. But up close, he was like a sculpture created by a Greek artist that would be on display in Athens or Thessaloniki. It would be an art millions or even billions around the world would know and she could only dream of having in her gallery. 

 

But he’s not a statue nor in Greece, but he was in front of her and alive and it seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity that she prayed she didn’t mess up. 

 

The sound of trumpet solo basically smacked Beth in the face and she realized with a start that they’ve both probably been standing there too long and that they should get a move on

 

She took his unoccupied hand and led him in, the live band on the stage in the back of the room having a blast as occupants of the building moved to the music. Camera flashes were happening and she heard the sound of champagne bottles popping open and the crowds making excited cheers. Above, there was a banner that read: “WELCOME TO 1923, IT'S THE BERRIES!” 

 

“At least they didn’t ban the drinks for the week!” She yelled to be heard over the music, moving to put her coat and purse on a chair that’s outside of the dance floor. “Do you know any dances from the ‘20’s?” 

 

She immediately wanted to smack herself in the forehead. Steve was a kid at that time but he was conscious enough towards the end of the decade to possibly remember some dances. 

 

The teasing smirk he sent her way was enough of an answer and he once again held his hand out to her. “Care for a dance, miss?” 

 

“How could I say no, sir?” She played along and once her hand was in his, she was tugged into the dancing crowd, some confetti fell from the ceiling and some people had kazoos and were playing them along with the music. 

 

The orange atmosphere really added to the 1920’s feel and the jazzy but loud music was the cherry on top. 

 

“This is amazing!” Steve shouted with a big smile while he looked around with a sparkle in his eyes and she felt herself practically melt at the look on his face. He might’ve laughed and smiled a lot but Beth could see heartbreak too, which is understandable. She lost her mom to The Snap, Steve lost a good amount of friends, and that’s not even taking into account everybody else he lost just due to time. 

 

Which is why she’s so happy to see him like this, to know that her date suggestion wasn’t a dud and that he can see himself enjoying it here, with her. 

 

“I’m glad you like it so far!” She yelled and gripped his hand tighter. “Show me some moves!” 

 

Steve didn’t need to be told twice. After showing a few steps, the two began to move in sync and with the ease of someone who wasn’t just taught the moves. People around started to stare and clap, some whistling and cheering while she and Steve danced away, but before long, the man broke the classic dance to tug her into him, putting his hand across her waist and holding her hand. 

 

She gripped his hand once more and dug her nails into his shoulders before he started to twirl her around. She laughed breathlessly, she could feel sweat starting to coat her skin and her hair was sticking somewhat to her neck and Steve looked to be just as worked up as her. His combed hair came free of the gel he used and he (she’s not too sure when) rolled up his shirt sleeves to show off his toned forearms which she was definitely not staring at. 

 

They were panting but she could barely hear him over the music that switched to a new song, still lively and upbeat. She moved her hand from his shoulder and brought it up to grasp his neck from behind, forcing his head to come closer to hers. 

 

Their bodies pressed close and her heart beat faster than it has in a long time. She felt her fingers move subconsciously, gently brushing against his skin and occasionally going up into his hair. His own hand on her waist was gripping harder than before and she could almost imagine that he’s pressing his hips directly into hers. She pressed her forehead into his and he pushed into hers firmly, both of their mouths open as they were trying to bring air back into their lungs, panting like they ran back-to-back marathons. She thought he would have no trouble doing this, she knows his stamina is worth more than a hundred people, no way would she ever think he’d be grasping for breath from this.

 

This is the most intimate thing she’s done with a man in a long time, and they haven’t even kissed! Her skin was hot and he was sweaty, but she didn’t want to move and the look in Steve’s eyes challengingly dared her to, and she couldn’t back out. 

 

“Want to keep going?” He said lowly and this time, her cheeks did flare up red and hot. He meant dancing, she knows that, but with where they were standing and how they looked and sounded, it’s like there’s this promiscuous meaning behind it. 

 

She felt a jolt travel down her stomach and reach her core at the idea but she pushed those thoughts away, nodding at him while she bit her bottom lip gently (she was a little proud to relish in the way Steve looked down at her lips). “Think you can keep up?” 

 

“I can do this all day.” He said with an air of cockiness that had Beth rolling her eyes. So she pulled away but didn’t let go of him, only starting a new dance and Steve falling into line with her. Her arms went one day, his arms went the other. Both were kicking and twirling, laughing and lunging after the other. 

 

More cheers from the bar erupted and she felt champagne rain down on them in little sprinkles, and it was like a movie. To her, it was just them in the room with no one else and while the alcohol rained on them, she was once again brought closer to Steve and no words needed to be exchanged for her to know what was going to happen. She immediately grabbed his face into her hands and his own held her up off the ground, planting themselves on her waist and along her back. 

 

This time, she had to lean her head down slightly just to firmly press her lips into his. He kissed back with hunger and more feverish than Beth would’ve expected but she wasn’t going to complain. 

 

He hiked her up against him some more so she could wrap her legs around his waist and she felt one of his hands support her thighs, and she felt the way he effortlessly held her up, like she was nothing more than a grape. 

 

Their lips moved just as well as their dance did, fluid and smooth, and she couldn’t get enough. It was heated, heavier than Beth ever experienced. Steve was practically leaving bruises into her thighs and across her back from how hard he was gripping her and it felt good. She ran her hands through his hair before once more planting her hand on the base of his neck, using her other hand to lightly trace her nails over his back. 

 

She felt him shiver and the kiss turned even more passionate than she would’ve thought. They were breathing heavily into each other's mouth, she felt their teeth clank every so often. After one clank in particular did Steve seem to have enough and he gently bit at her bottom lip, holding it between his teeth as she let out an accidental moan and a roll of her hips against his, slowly moving her head back before the man let go and she felt tingles. 

 

Yeah, she wasn’t going home alone tonight. 

 

---

 

It was the gentle pawing at his face that woke Steve up, groggily blinking to see Parlor the Cat sitting on his chest, moving his head from side to side as he continued to bat at Steve’s cheek. 

 

He reached up to pet the cat before looking to his right and seeing Beth sleeping, curled up against him in a too big shirt. 

 

Memories from last night (or a couple hours ago) came back to Steve and he moved, Parlor jumping off him in the process. He turned on his side and got comfortable as he placed his hand on Beth’s hip, staring at the blonde while she slept. 

 

Their date at the dance club ended in… well, where he is now. In Beth’s bed, wearing his boxers because at least they managed to clean themselves up before passing out together. 

 

He watched as she breathed deeply but slowly, peace written all over her features. Her makeup was smeared from the pleasure tears she had and her lipstick was still smudged but Steve finds no imperfections. Once her loft door shut, he practically tackled her and they had barely made it to her bed before their clothes were all torn off and thrown somewhere in her apartment.

 

He rubbed his thumb over her hip and could imagine there were bruises on her hips from where he held her, digging his fingers into her soft flesh. He shifted a little more and felt the stinging of her nail marks on his back, another painful but welcomed reminder of their time together. The sounds she made and the ones she pulled out of him, the way her body felt against him, the way she felt on the inside. 

 

It was intoxicating and Steve’s not sure where this boldness came from but he’s not too sure he wants to get rid of it. Especially if it means getting more of her other than just sex.

 

Would they go on more dates? Would they ever hang out more at her place? Would he someday invite her to spend time with him at the compound and maybe even meet some of the others? Natasha would poke fun, he hasn’t forgotten her little attempts to set him up with people a couple years back. He’s grateful she’s stopped but he can imagine she’d make a comment or two about it. 

 

Bruce would be awkward if anything, Steve thinks the man would stumble over his words and probably be confused when, exactly, Steve and Beth became a thing (were they a thing now?). 

 

Rhodey would probably be the most normal about it, they aren’t super close for the man to be a menace with Natasha but at the same time, Steve can imagine he’d make a dry comment and Natasha would feed off it and the two would work together to embarrass Steve just to make Beth laugh. 

 

Peter would be awkward as well, but less so than Bruce. He’d be overly polite and a little anxious, Steve’s seen it enough times to know that he’s more right than wrong about this one. 

 

Clint? Thor? Clint’s been missing since the beginning, no sign of him anywhere and the highly trained spy made sure of it. If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t. The man lost his wife and three children; he lost his family. But Steve hasn’t forgotten all the murders around the world after The Snap that has the spy written all over it. 

 

And Steve’s more than a little embarrassed and disappointed in himself to say that he hasn’t reached out to the living myth at all. Asgard was destroyed before Thanos got all the stones and they were on a quest to find a new home. They’ve touched down in Scotland and while Steve’s made no attempt with communication, neither has Thor. 

 

Beth moving her head shook Steve out of his thoughts and he looked down at her to see that she’s blinking slowly, trying to wake up. “Mornin’.” 

 

Beth said something so intangible that Steve found amusing. The girl gave a slight stretch before looking at him with newfound attention, her shirt rumpled and hair a mess. “Why are you awake?”

 

“Parlor.” He answered and both looked towards Beth’s dresser to see Parlor the Cat staring at them. “He’s a great alarm clock.” 

 

“Mm,” Beth hummed like a song. “Only when you don’t need him to be.” She licked her lips and sat up a little and Steve felt the need to copy. “Are you hungry?” 

 

That's when he realized that they didn’t make it to the restaurant after dancing and he did feel a familiar hunger ache in his stomach. He's supposed to intake a lot of calories per day to keep himself from fainting or getting sick; staying at peak form. He did lose a lot of energy last night from all that exercise. 

 

“I could eat.” He says and they get out of her bed, slowly padding their way to the kitchen. He let her lead the way and he watched as her hair bounced and swayed with each step she took and the way the shirt rested on her upper thighs, one miscalculation and she’d be exposed. 

 

He licked his lips but looked back up, it wasn’t the time to be getting… all ridiculous. It wasn’t the right mood anyways. 

 

They arrived at the kitchen and she turned the overhead sink light on, casting a warm glow over everything. He looked around and admired her full set up, the coffee maker in the corner and the toaster next to the breadbox, little photos on the fridge that were held up by strawberry magnets. 

 

He looked a little closer as Beth looked through her pantry, listening to suggestions. The picture was a Polaroid and it was Beth beaming while holding a little boy in a death grip, their cheeks pressed together tightly and he was missing his two front teeth. 

 

He already knows it can’t be her child, nothing about her home screamed that she had one. Maybe a nephew, or a close friend's kid?

 

“Oh, that’s Walker,” Beth said and he looked behind him to see her leaning her arm along the pantry door, looking loveling at the photo. “He’s my little buddy.” 

 

“Nephew?” He guessed and she nodded. “You have a sibling?” 

 

“Brother,” she confirmed. “He lost his wife before The Snap. It’s just been Josh and Walker. Sometimes me.” 

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, he’s not sure if Beth was close to her sister-in-law but the somber mood made him guess the two were. “I’m sure you’re a great aunt to Walker.” 

 

“Oh, only when it’s his birthday or Christmas.” She says, turning back on her heel to look through the pantry some more. “Otherwise I make his life hell.” 

 

“Hilarious, didn’t take you for a comedian.” That caused a laugh to fall out of her and he leans against the counter, watching as she bent at her knees to look lower. 

 

“Well what about you? Did you have any siblings?” She stood back to full height and walked away from the mini closet, standing beside him.

 

“No, it was just my ma and I.” He said, finding himself to be weirdly comfortable enough to tell her this. “At the time, it was recommended to have lots of kids, more to help out and bring the money in, but my ma knew better.” Plus, she was probably paranoid that more of her kids would end up short and scrawny with a too long list of medical problems. “It would be cool to be an uncle, though.” 

 

“You’d be a great one.” She said with a genuine smile. “They’d go to school bragging about how their uncle is a superhero. Probably ask you to come to a show-and-tell.” 

 

He snickered at that, slightly shaking his head. That would be something, he’ll admit. He’s always liked the idea of being a family man but once he got the serum, he kind of gave up on the idea. But then Peggy came by and he thought, maybe it’s still possible. Then he got frozen and woke up in 2011, a few months before the Battle of New York and once again, he came to terms that maybe a calm life wasn’t in his cards. 

 

He had to move on at some point and he believes he did a couple years ago, understanding that his life was now in the 21st century and that there was nothing else to do but move forwards. Peggy had her life, the life that he wished years back that he was a part of, but no one gets exactly what they want. 

 

But maybe he was given a second chance, maybe Beth was it. 

 

But he also doesn’t want to think of her as a redemption card. She wasn’t someone who was born to make his life better. It might be a factor but that’s not her sole purpose. 

 

And she’s not a rebound, how can she be something when there was technically no one there before her?

 

This whole thing is making his head hurt. 

 

“Hey,” Beth spoke and he looked away from her tiled flooring to look into her eyes, she was staring at him with a slight expression of concern. “You okay?” 

 

He reached out to her and held her soft hand in his calloused one, not believing that not even five hours ago he was gripping her hands like a lifeline as he held them over her head. 

 

“Always.” 

Notes:

So I did make Steve a bit younger than he is in cannon just cause I wanted to. So here’s something that may help:

Steven “Steve” Grant Rogers:

Born: September 28th, 1922 (Ik it’s a joke that he was born July 4th but I saw a comic panel that disproves that so we’re just gonna run with this)

Age: 22 (when frozen in 1945, unfrozen in Oct 2011, and during Avengers in May 2012)
28 during Infinity War (April 2018)
29 (after Sep 28, 2018)
34 (after Sep 28, 2023)

He will be 34 when Endgame takes place (Oct 2023)

His dad still died BUT after the war due to medical complications from WW1 (kinda like how Vietnam soldiers are experiencing side affects DECADES after fighting) and his mom still died from TB.

I am debating to put out character charts like this on my tumblr so it can be a reference for ages and birthdays and stuff like that!

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS!!❤️❤️

Chapter 26

Notes:

IM ALIVE

“Hey,” a knock on his door frame made Peter perk up from his math homework, turning around slightly to see Pepper standing in his open doorway. “Do you want to run a quick errand with me?” 

 

He spun himself a little more towards her, his old desk chair squeaking. The idea of leaving his homework to sit abandoned on his desk while he goes do something was an amazing one. “Yeah, sure. Where to?” 

 

“I have to grab a pair of shoes for the Stark Industries Christmas charity gala that’s in a few weeks. It's in the uppity part of town so make sure you do everything in your power to remain anonymous.” 

 

He blinked while Pepper walked to her room, he could hear her ruffling through her closet to find a coat. So he went to do the same thing, grabbing a baseball cap that once belonged to Uncle Ben and a pair of sunglasses that Mr. Stark let him borrow once (he pretended to have no idea what Mr. Stark was talking about when the man asked for his shades back). 

 

Slipping on his winter coat, he walked out of his room the same time Pepper exited hers and he did a full circle spin, letting her look over the outfit. “Is this good?” 

 

She didn’t say a word as she reached forwards and zipped up his jacket, effectively hiding his Midtown Tech sweatshirt he wore to school. His little proud smile turned into an embarrassed one when Pepper patted his shoulder. “Now it is.” 

 

“My bad.” He says as they walk down the stairs together, Harley was playing his Xbox with his headphones on, talking to Aaron and Lalit through his mic. 

 

“How do you expect to remain enigmatic if you can’t even zip up a jacket to hide your school's logo?” Pepper says after she reminds Harley she and Peter will be gone for a bit. The teen gives her a thumbs up but doesn’t look away from the TV.

 

Peter whispers a goodbye to Millie before following Pepper out the door. “How’d you know I wasn’t going to zip it up afterwards?” All she did was raise an eyebrow and Peter lost all sort of conviction in himself, grumbling as he got into the car. “Yeah, okay, whatever, I completely forgot about it.” 

 

“What would you do without me?” Pepper asked as she turned the car on and a second later, they drove down the driveway. 

 

“Probably do and say things not even the PR team could fix.” Pepper snorted and Peter followed, the teen reached forward to turn the radio volume a little higher as a radio host was going over the weather. 

 

“It was just a beautiful day here in New York, absolutely stunning. If you didn’t have a chance to be outside before the sun set, I only feel a little bad for you because tomorrow is supposed to be just as nice.” The upbeat voice made listening easy, the guy's voice was very much familiar as he’s probably been running this certain station since Peter was in elementary school, but his name always escaped Peter. 

 

“I can’t say the same for this weekend. Temps will be dropping to low, reaching the negatives once that sun sets.” Pepper made a disappointed sound. “In other news, Norman Osborn’s trial date has just changed to be on December 5th, much sooner than later. There’s still no word from his son, Harold Osborn, and sources say that Spider-Man refuses to comment.” Because what can he say? He just doesn’t want to do the wrong thing. “I can’t give my personal biases here but I do hope we get some sort of updates soon, who likes to be waiting in the dark on things like this? I’m telling you, if I have to wait until the new year to report on this, this old guy won’t be too happy. As the kids say, spill the tea!” The guy says it like a joke and Peter cringes, an upcoming song starts to grow louder and louder over the guy's voice. “Our hour of music is starting, if you have any request please send them to Anna-Marie and—”

 

Pepper turned the volume down and Peter was a little grateful but now he knows it’s time for serious talk and he was in such a good mood before. He has an idea of what Pepper wants to say and he knows it needs to be talked about. So he waited and it only took a minute longer than normal for the woman to speak. 

 

“Whatcha planning?” 

 

“I don't know, Pep.” He said thoughtfully. “I mean, do I show up? Or can I send in a letter to his lawyer?”

 

“You can.” Pepper nodded, approaching the bridge that will lead them into the city. “I know nothing about this case seeing as Pepper Potts has no business knowing. But considering what you and I both know, it’s very much possible that his lawyer is also trying to go with hospitalization.” 

 

“So if I write a letter with proof of his… uh, insanity, then that would help.” Gwen hasn’t mentioned it again since the night she met Pepper, but he knows she’d be happy that he took her words into consideration and that he at least tried. “The only issue is that I don’t know his lawyer.” 

 

“Harry would.” Pepper said and it’s like Peter (regretfully) forgot about his friend's existence. He made a noise that could only be described as eureka! and fished out his phone, but gave a pause. Harry still hasn’t shown up to school since Peter defeated Green Goblin and news of his true identity was released. 

 

He nor Gwen are getting any response from Harry, and while Gwen’s words of support still rang in his head, sometimes Peter still feels at fault. 

 

“Look,” Pepper took one hand off the wheel and took his hand, holding it firmly. “I understand that you’re unsure about this and you don’t want to do the wrong thing, but trust me when I tell you that this would be the best thing you could do for him and Harry.” Pulling up to a red stop light, Pepper looked at him. “You just can’t give up.”

 

“I never give up.” He said it with no hesitation, though it was quiet, and he’s briefly disgusted by the image of Steve who says “I can do this all day” over every challenge Peter threw at the man. He said it during sparring, Just Dance, who can eat the most pizzas, staring contests, etc. 

 

“One of your many admirable and stubborn traits.” Pepper smiled as they pulled into a parking garage near an outlet mall and the two walked towards the door on the level they’re on and Christmas music and scents filled Peter’s senses. 

 

People around were shopping with friends or family, some with lots of bags or very minimal. Christmas lights lined the mall's ceilings with Christmas trees planted randomly with presents under them. 

 

“The store is just over here.” Pepper said as she grabbed the collar of his jacket and steered him in the right direction, momentarily causing him to lose some balance but was able to recover quickly. “They should have it behind the counter.” 

 

“This mall is fancy.” Peter said, a little stunned by… everything about it. He’s never been in this mall because it’s completely out of his price range—no, life range. As they walked, many new models for cars were on display, only available in 2019 and 2020. They were very sleek and clean and Peter looked at each and every one he saw as they walked, some mannequins placed here and there for designs coming in the new year, suits and dresses, shoes and jewelry. 

 

Many posters hung on the walls of models and the glass railings on staircases and escalators, the dome skylight that shows the night sky having snow drift down from it and land on the glass, the waxed flooring and potted plants placed in almost every corner. And they were real! Each one they passed had a very nice smell with it and one quick glance was enough to see the softness of the leaves and petals.

 

This was the queen of all malls in New York until Peter gets proven wrong and he’s pretty sure that’ll be impossible. 

 

“Someone might try to pop some gum in your mouth.” Pepper joked and Peter shut his mouth shut with an auditable click. He didn’t even realize he was gaping at the scenery and he felt a small bit of embarrassment. “This will be your new normal one day. You’ll see things much greater than this.” Pepper continued, but a second later she looked at him with stern eyes. “But only if you want to. No one is forcing you.” 

 

He only smiled and nodded, not sure what to say at that moment. She was right, though. One day, if he chooses, he could be one of the many successful businessmen in the state in just a couple years, leading an already great company somewhere bigger and better than where it is. Or run it into the ground. But ever since his talk with Happy, he’s not as afraid or insecure. Yes, he’s still nervous but maybe he truly can live up to Mr. Stark and Pepper! Maybe they’re right and he’ll be even better! That seems impossible but he’s willing to try. Maybe. He just needs some more time. 

 

Luckily, they had just arrived at the store that’s holding Pepper’s purchase and he didn’t have to respond (he may or may not be celebrating internally). They walk up to the counter and he just kind of stands besides her, not sure if it would be wise to speak. 

 

The lady at the counter kept looking at him intently before jolting back to Pepper, like she was very much aware of the press conference from October and remembers the idea of an heir. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and tries to not look so awkward, looking down at his shoes and toeing the ground. The woman at the counter tells Pepper she’ll be right back with the order and Peter watches with his peripheral as she walks off, seeing her turn her head as she walks to keep looking at him. But then something catches his attention and it’s shiny and gold and very pretty. 

 

He picks his head up to stare at a display table, and on it sits a simple golden necklace with a diamond pendant hanging off it, the lighting of the store making the diamond sparkle light blue and white. Next to it is a matching earring and bracelet set, both simple but very pretty.

 

Gwen is the only one that comes to mind when he stares at the jewelry. 

 

She’d look so beautiful wearing it, and it doesn’t look too flashy for her not to wear when she performs! He remembers months ago that Gwen said she would love to wear more personable jewelry while she’s on the stage but she refuses to wear any of her mothers, afraid it could break and she won’t notice until it’s too late. 

 

He walked over to it, looking down at the price and nearly pukes. He knows this mall is expensive and all it houses but it’s still a shock. This must be real diamond and gold for a price that large. 

 

“Pretty, huh?” Pepper comments as she joins him at the table. He only nods. “Thinking of Gwen?” 

 

His face immediately flared up but there’s no point in denying it. Pepper already knows they’re dating (even if he didn’t exactly introduce Gwen as his girlfriend) and she doesn’t seem to be poking fun. 

 

“It’s very pretty.” She says matter of factly, no longer looking at him but at where the worker went off to, watching for her return. “I think Gwen will love it.” 

 

“You do?” He tilted his head and tried to imagine himself putting the necklace on her, or even the bracelet. Might be a little awkward putting earrings on for her, though. He’ll let her handle that. 

 

“I do.” Pepper smiled before leaving his side to join the worker at the counter as she had returned with Pepper’s order. 

 

Peter only hummed before ultimately making up his mind. 

 

---

 

“Breaking news for viewers of The Star today! Recent pictures of Pepper Potts and adopted son were taken as the two of them visited—”

 

Bzzz

 

“These pictures are obviously real, that boy must be one of her sons! Possibly the said heir to Stark Indus—”

 

Bzzz 

 

“Pepper Potts was spotted looking gorgeous as always but a lackey was seen with her! Mysterious adopted son sporting the good ol’ sunglasses and hat combo! I would also like to point out that the sun had gone down hours prior to when these photos were taken—”

 

Click 

 

Peter sighed as he turned the TV off, little bothered by the fact that he was on the news. It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last but that was as Spider-Man! His name wasn’t said and his face was pretty well hidden (in a sense), no one could tell it was him! 

 

But he could, and that’s what made him a smidge uncomfortable. 

 

“I don’t know what you expected.” Harley said as he sat on the other couch, typing away at his phone. “You kinda walked into that.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter mumbled as he took his own phone out, counting down the days to Gwen’s performance. Monday, December 3 read on his phone, two days till Norman’s trial and five days till Gwen’s performance. 

 

He spent all of last night writing a letter for whoever will be representing Norman but he’s not sure how well that will go. Harry still isn’t responding and whoever Mr. Osborn’s criminal defense lawyer is isn’t public knowledge yet. He had Pepper and Gwen read it over to see if it sounded professional and words weren’t accidentally misspelled and if it were a graded assignment, Gwen said she’d have given him an A.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” Harley suddenly said and Peter lifted his head slightly. Harley could either be thinking of doing something incredibly dangerous or incredibly smart. Either way, Peter’s growing nervous. “If it would be okay if I were to also use the garage? I’ve been having some ideas lately…” 

 

“Oh.” Peter said and apparently his tone of voice was too much of surprise and relief because Harley frowned at him. “Yeah, that's fine. As long as you don’t touch my projects.” 

 

“Duh,” Harley went back to his phone and Peter rolled his eyes at his sass. Kids these days. “I won’t mess up anything I shouldn’t.” 

 

Before Peter could retort, his phone started to vibrate. Looking down, he saw that it was Harry. Not giving Harley another glance, he hops off the couch and jumps high enough to forget about walking up the stairs and just vaults over the railing of the second level, sliding into his room and shutting the door quietly. 

 

Without a second thought, he accepted the phone call. 

 

“Hi, Harry.” Peter greeted with a smile.

 

“Hey, Pete.” Came Harry’s response, though instead of it being the usual upbeat and fast paced, it was tired and vulnerable. Peter runs his free hand through his hair and sits down in his chair closest to his bookshelf, staring at nothing in particular. “Sorry I haven’t been responding to you or Gwen, I haven’t been allowed on my phone.”

 

“It’s cool, dude.” Peter said. “…how’ve you been?”

 

It was quiet for a while and Peter waited patiently for Harry to answer, he can only imagine that the redhead's mind was spinning and unable to find the words. 

 

Finally, Harry only sighed (deeply, he might add). “I don’t know, man. I…” his voice broke and it began to sound like he was about to start crying. Not that Peter would mind nor judge, Harry has every right to be emotional. “This is absolutely fucked, dude.” 

 

Peter nodded, very much aware Harry can’t see him. He had to agree with that sentiment and the way Harry just sounded so betrayed and upset really made the guilt Peter’s been feeling increase tenfold. 

 

“I mean,” Harry continued. “He’s always been difficult but I never would’ve imagined this. I saw the footage, he killed his lab partner! He almost killed Gwen and all those other people, I can’t even—” Harry sighed deeply once again but there was anger mixed in this one. “I don’t even know what to do.” He said. “I have to speak with Matt Murdock, his lawyer and… oh… probably shouldn’t have said that. Whatever, I have to speak with him again tomorrow and get ready for his trial but I don’t even care which outcome he’ll get. Throw him in a cell or psych ward for all I care, he can rot in either one!”

 

The aggressive tone of his friend's voice was a stranger to Peter but he can’t blame Harry for being furious. He’d probably be in the same boat if his father was some lunatic villain. He didn’t speak, only slightly celebrating at the name drop but otherwise, just listened to the harsh breathing of his friend and waited for Harry to speak again. 

 

His eyes moved to the framed picture he has on his desk of him, Gwen, and Harry. It was taken by Mrs. Warren back in October, the three of them huddled around their project at the time and smiling, Gwen was holding the model in her hands, her chin resting on it while Peter was on her left, tilting his head into hers with a sideways peace sign. Harry was on her right with his thumb and pinky out, grinning boldly. 

 

He wouldn’t necessarily say that October was his least stressful month, but it was certainly different than now. Gwen was still keeping to herself about his secret, they didn’t have their fight yet, Harry was still clueless about his dads… uh, occupation, but it was one of the better months he’s had all year. 

 

“He ruined everything, all because he wanted to be better.” Harry mumbled. “He ruined the company, his reputation, my reputation! I’ve seen what people are saying online, about how I’ll be the next monster of Oscorp, how I’ve been in league with my dad this entire time! I can count on two hands the amount of times I’ve seen him in person this year, forget about interacting!” 

 

“Don’t listen to those jerks,” Peter said, feeling a little like a hypocrite. “We know those rumors are nothing more than what they are.” 

 

“I know, I know.” Harry sighed again, simmering down. “I don’t know what to do, man.” 

 

Yeah, what was there to do? Peter gnawed on his bottom lip, afraid to say something that Harry may not want to hear. He knows his friend will figure it out, he just needs to take it one step at a time (and he knows how impossible that can sound). So he just told his friend the truth. That he and Gwen will stick by him and that he’ll always have them. To ignore those rumors and the media, to just focus on pushing through. 

 

He didn’t miss the way he could hear Harry sniff or the sound of a hand wiping against a cheek but he didn’t falter. 

 

Everything he was saying was true, and he could physically feel the pull of their friendship getting stronger in this very moment. They became friends rather fast but this was a new territory for them. This was a type of friendship vulnerability that he and Ned didn’t reach until puberty (when life started to go downhill just because of aging).

 

“Thanks, Peter.” Harry said after a minute, his voice a little hoarse. “I… uhm, I’ve missed talking with you guys. It's been lonely.” 

 

He can imagine. “Anytime, man.” Peter said. “You know both Gwen and I are only a phone call away.” 

 

“I guess I just thought you guys would be, I don’t know, upset with me or something.” Harry said and if they were talking in person, Peter could imagine he just shrugged. “My dad is a freaking Green Goblin, I would understand—”

 

“I don’t think we’re that easy to scare off.” Peter hadn’t even thought of breaking their friendship off for even a second when he found out that Norman Osborn was Green Goblin. Gwen never said anything either but considering her own concern for Harry’s wellbeing, he’s willing to bet she’s not going anywhere either. Letting a light tone slip into his voice, teasingly he continued. “Come on,”

 

“I know,” Harry chuckled. “I know.”

 

“Come on, man.” Peter laughed, hearing Harry do the same through his phone receiver. He could definitely tell that this is what Harry needed, and Peter was happy to be the one to supply his (albeit phone) presence to his friend. 

 

The two stayed on the phone for a while, Harry slowly starting to sound better and better, no longer sounding angry or upset. They talked about school in general and how it’s been. Peter suggested the two of them hang out at a skatepark he used to visit all the time with Uncle Ben (yes, even in the winter) and mentioned a movie night with pizza and video games! 

 

Harry immediately agreed to that and Peter realized with a start that this is the longest they’ve ever been on the phone with one another. It wasn’t weird or anything, but certainly unexpected. He just thought it would be a quick call where Harry and him would just talk about recent events and then hang up, possibly with the notion that Harry may return to school soon. 

 

Asking the red head such, Harry wasn’t sure when he’d be back and Peter tried not to be too bummed. 

 

“I’m being told I gotta get off the phone.” Harry said at some point, and Peter could hear someone in the background whispering to Harry. “Thanks again, I really just needed to talk.” 

 

“I’m full of words.” Peter said and Harry chortled. 

 

“I do appreciate it.” Harry said and his voice quieted. “I’m… I’m lucky to have you as my best friend.” Peter only blinked. “I’ll see you at Gwen’s recital. Don’t tell her I’ll be there!” Then Harry was gone. 

 

Best friend? If words could physically hurt someone, Peter would be beaten to a pulp. Ned was the only one Peter ever considered to be his best friend, they had years together and there was little they didn’t know about each other. But Ned is gone now, and it kinda feels like… replacement? 

 

He does consider Gwen to be his best friend but she’s also his girlfriend and a girl. It was the same but different, it didn’t feel like replacing anyone. 

 

Harry wasn’t replacing Ned but it felt like he was and that was what troubled Peter the most. 

 

---

 

“Well, it’s out! The jury has decided that Norman Osborn is too mentally unstable so now he’s being thrown into a padded, white room! Many are happy about the turn of events, others aren’t. I personally don’t care. Clap if you care—” 

 

Bzzz

 

“The spider menace has been reported to sent in a letter to Mr. Osborn’s lawyer, a redemption letter of sorts! Sources are saying he was the deciding factor for the jury, which just goes hand-in-hand that Spider-Man has been the real master mind after all and just wanted to have public favoritism—”

 

Bzzz

 

“Spider-Man had personally written a letter to Norman Osborn’s lawyer, Matt Murdock, a criminal defense lawyer with a stellar reputation. The letter goes into detail of Norman Osborn’s worsening mental state and—”

 

Bzzz

 

“Okay, so Spider-Man can help a criminal get a hospital stay but he’ll keep quiet about his affiliation with Gwendolyn Stacy? We can’t ignore the fact that Green Goblin literally said he’s seen the way the two look at each other.” 

 

“How do we know he wasn’t just bullshitting, though?” 

 

“I don’t know, man. Something about the words, the tones of voices, the reactions! This can’t just be a thing that people will forget about, this could be a step closer to figuring out who Spider-Man is—!” 

 

Bzzz 

 

Click

Notes:

Sorry yall!
Work and school has been a BIITCHHH
Is a degree even worth it🥲

Chapter 27

Notes:

HELLOOOOOOOO
I am SOOOO sorry it took so long! Buttttt it’s not because I’ve had no motivation to continue, it’s because I HAVE had motivation with this story.

I like to prewrite a LOTTT before I’m comfortable with posting a chapter, and when I tell you I got to WORK on this story, I mean it.

I hope you guys enjoy and I promise updates won’t be so long apart again!

I LOVE YOU GUYSSSSS!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Gwen sat in front of the vanity in the dressing room, the lights that surrounded the glass turned on to help her get the best visual for her makeup. Usually she had her mother to help her, looking over spots Gwen might’ve missed or the two just chatting to help her with her nerves. 

 

Elaine was no stranger to the anxiety of the spotlight and Gwen was always grateful her mother helped. It was like a cooling blanket on a hot day. 

 

Gwen blinked away the memory of Elaine, knowing she’ll eventually start to tear up as her heart ached even harder for her mom. Today was supposed to be a happy day! It was the first performance of The Nutcracker and she won’t let her spirits down! She just needs to finish her base makeup before applying the doll look to her face. 

 

“I can’t believe it’s finally the day!” Lina said from next to Gwen, doing her own makeup at her own vanity. “I feel like I’m going to throw up and die at the same time.” 

 

“Maybe don’t do that?” Janessa said with a laugh behind the two, not even bothering to start her look. Her character won’t show up until act two, she has a time to relax. Instead, she helped Lina with her hair, curling Lina’s pin straight black hair into ringlets for that authentic 19th century look. “You guys are going to do awesome!” Gwen saw her peek away from Lina’s head and gave Gwen a pointed look. “Just try not to break your ankle.” 

 

“Don’t curse me.” Gwen teased, digging in her makeup bag for her more vibrant pallets, her own hair already in twin braids with white bows, her bangs resting on her forehead. When she’s dressed as the Sugar Plum Fairy, her bangs will have to be gelled and hairsprayed back. “If I do end up breaking something, I’ll know exactly who to blame.” 

 

“Come on, don’t jinx us!” Lina giggled as she powdered her face. “We have several more weeks of shows, I’d rather none of us get hurt… again.” 

 

Gwen still cringes whenever she thinks about the way Lily’s ankle snapped and the way it broke through her skin. Yeah, Gwen could do without that happening to any of them. 

 

Through the mirror, she saw Odine walk into the room and demand the attention of those who will be in the beginning of act one, just before Gwen’s entrance as a doll, the remaining cast not even bothering to watch. At that moment, Janessa let the blonde know that she’s going to meet up with her family for a bit and Gwen resumed her makeup and was determined to make her cheeks have perfectly round red circles like any doll did. Hopefully she didn’t look like Pennywise at the end. She was so focused that she didn’t even notice some people walking into the dressing room. 

 

“I’m so proud she’s embracing her clown culture.” 

 

She dropped her stencil and looked up through the mirror, seeing Harley, Peter, and Harry behind her, smiling. She didn’t have any control of the excited gasp she let out when she saw the redhead. She stood from her chair, nearly knocking it back into Peter’s knees and brought Harry into a quick hug. 

 

She had no idea he’d be watching the recital and the way he’s been MIA? She thinks showing a little affection is okay. 

 

She then reaches for Harley and tugs him into her, the younger teen squawking at the sudden force, her arm wrapped around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly as he laughs. “I can’t breathe!” He’s so dramatic. “You also stink, let me go!” 

 

“You sure you ain’t just smelling yourself?” She jokes before dropping her arm from him, immediately reaching for Peter, her smile turning soft as if she had no control. He opened his arms to her and she fell into him, holding him tighter than Harry but looser than Harley. It was more tender and comfortable and she couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. 

 

“You showed.” She smiled at Harry, her head still resting on Peter’s shoulder. “Is everything…?” 

 

He got the hint at what she was talking about and his expression turned a tiny bit more solemn. He swayed a little on his feet and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. “Yeah, yeah. Just working out proper institutions that will house him.” He cleared his throat, a false pep in his tone now. “But let’s worry about you. I hear you’re playing two characters?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m a dancing doll and the Sugar Plum Fairy.” Gwen let go of Peter and sat back down in her seat, grabbing her makeup once more. “I need to get my makeup done quickly so I can finish my hair and get my costume on.” 

 

“Your hair is already done, though.” Harley pointed out. 

 

“I meant hairspray.” She clarified, dabbing her thin brush into the red face paint, getting ready to complete the circle when Peter spoke. 

 

“Why don’t you guys get to your seats? I’ll help her with her makeup.” He smiled and Harry made a knowing sound while Harley gagged. Peter only rolled his eyes, knocking his elbow into Harley’s shoulder. “Shut up.” 

 

“You’re so obvious, it’s disgusting.” Harley teased and Harry quickly wrapped an arm over the younger teens shoulders and clamped his hand over the kids mouth. Harley made muffled sounds of protests but Harry just steered the two of them out of the room. 

 

“See ya out there! Good luck!” Harry called over his shoulder and then, the two were gone, leaving Peter and Gwen in the dressing room. They weren’t the only ones left in the room but everyone else was away from the vanities, worrying about their costumes or talking to one another, Gwen and Peter were basically nonexistent to them. 

 

She looked away from her cast mates when she heard Peter pull the chair that Lina was sitting on earlier closer to Gwen, planting both his hands on the armrests of her chair (she tried not to blush with the way he caged her in) and spinning her so they were face to face, the mirror now to her left as she faced him. Their legs slotted between one another, her knees hitting the seat of his chair as his did the same. She smiled as he gently took the stencil from her hand and leaned in. She felt the soft touch of the brush against her cheek, the paint cold but not unpleasant. She watched as his eyes narrowed slightly as he concentrated on making the red circle perfect, he looked so serious and Gwen tried not to smile to disrupt the technique. 

 

It was peaceful, the way they sat in comfortable silence, the air in the room cool but calming and Gwen relaxed under his critical gaze, not even caring enough to listen in on any conversations from her castmates. 

 

He turned away from her for a second to put more paint on the brush and when he turned back to her, he leaned even closer to her. She once again struggled to not smile, so instead, she talked. “Is this how you looked when you were making that cure?” 

 

She made sure to keep her voice low enough and if what Peter said was true, even if she made it barely audible, he would’ve heard it clear as day. 

 

But still, he paused in his work and blinked, a little smile twitching the corner of his mouth. “What?” 

 

“You’re so focused, I’ve never seen you look like that.” She explains. “Even when you’re doing homework.”

 

“I want your circles to look perfect.” He smiles, pausing in his work. She raises a hand to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing against his cheekbones that were tinted a light purple as the bags under his eyes bled. She can see how exhausted he is and he still showed, helping her with her makeup and beaming as if there’s not a whole world wearing him down. 

 

She leans forward and brushes her lips against his but pulls away slightly when he tries to fill the gap. He makes a small noise of protest but she just smirks. 

 

“I’m sure no matter how they look, they’ll be perfect.” She mumbles, still caressing his cheek but moved along his skin to lightly rub her thumb along his lips. “Thank you.”

 

He gave a quick kiss to the pad of her thumb before grasping the  back of her head and going for her lips. She smiled into the kiss, his lips were slightly chapped and still cold from the outside but it was nothing short of perfect to her. Her other hand came up to grip his shoulder while his hand rested on her thigh and she felt his fingers dig into her flesh. 

 

Feeling a little fired up (it’s the first showing of the production, sue her), she gave his lip a teasing bite. He jumped a little and a groan escaped him but she only laughed, turning her head to look in the mirror and seeing that two big red circles had officially adored her cheeks, all that’s left is to finish the eyeliner, lashes, and lipstick. 

 

“I feel like that was dirty play.” Peter murmured and she moved her eyes to see him looking at the ground sadly while he lightly nibbled where she just bit him. 

 

She laughed again, putting her hand on his knee and giving him a light squeeze and pat. She reached for her liquid eyeliner and took a little handheld mirror and held it up to her face, lightly making an outline before making it more bold with practiced ease. 

 

She could feel that he was just watching; observing her movements and while she would usually feel uncomfortable if someone were to be doing that, Peter was different. 

 

She opened her mouth to see if he could get her hairspray and comb ready but a castmate had other plans. Through her handheld mirror, Gwen could see it was a young girl and she was cast as one of the Mice King’s henchmen. She was practically bouncing on her heels as she approached. 

 

“Oh, hi, Hattie.” Gwen greeted, putting the eyeliner and mirror down as she turned her chair to look at the younger girl. Gwen wanted to say she was maybe thirteen or fourteen? She unfortunately never really talked to the girl. “You look very cute in your costume.” 

 

“Thank you!” Hattie smiled even bigger somehow. “But I have a question—well, my friends and I have a question, actually.” 

 

“Oh, sure.” Gwen was already guessing what it could be. She can only assume it’s ballet related, maybe a question on how to properly break in ballet shoes? Though, Hattie should already know that one. Maybe time management? 

 

“Have you really met Spider-Man?” 

 

Oh… Gwen still kept her smile but her eyes widened just a fraction. Really? They want to ask now? There’s still a lot of time to kill before the show actually starts, Gwen needs to use every minute of it to make herself stage ready, and Hattie decided to ask her this now? “What?” 

 

“We were listening to a podcast,” Hattie jabbed her thumb behind her, Gwen looking to the side to see Hattie’s friends crowding over a phone. “And they’re still bringing your name up and how you told Green Goblin you’ve met Spider-Man before.” 

 

“Uh…” she looked at Peter for a second and he didn’t look startled or confused or even panicked, just blinked at her and she once again realized that people talking about his alter ego was just another day for him. “Yeah, I’ve met him.” 

 

“What was it like?” Hattie bounced, her curls moving along with her. 

 

Wild, weird, horrifying, nauseating, refreshing, satisfying, victorious. There were a bunch of other words she could use but none would make sense to Hattie. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone who isn’t Gwen. “Unreal.” 

 

“Wow,” Hattie breathed, looking back and forth between her and Peter, as though she was making sure he heard it too. “I bet it was scary! But good thing he saved you! Was he tall? Was he nice? Oh! Was he very mad at the Green Goblin?” 

 

Literally all of the above. “Yeah, it was, uh… pretty terrifying.” Gwen cleared her throat, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. She looked away from the girl and was inching her hand back to where the eyeliner laid on the table. “But I should really finish my makeup...” 

 

“Oh, right! Sorry!” Hattie then rushed off to her friends, once again leaving Gwen and Peter alone. Gwen rolled her shoulders and picked her stuff back up, intentionally ignoring Peter’s gaze. She didn’t want to talk about it, she just wanted to move on. She never saw a point in dwelling on this kind of stuff. Personally, at least. 

 

“You either win or you lose,” She remembers her father telling her once. It was a while ago, she was maybe twelve. She had asked him about if he gets really sad whenever he’s out at work and he stared at her for a long time and looking back now, she can recognize that dimmed look in her fathers eyes. “And Stacy’s aren’t losers.” 

 

Being that she was twelve and her fathers explanation was pretty vague, she didn’t really understand how winning and losing can stop him from getting sad or letting the pain of the job come home with him. But now she gets it, and she lives by that motto almost everyday. 

 

She wasn’t going to let what happened to her make her a loser. She’s winning so far, she’s avoided talk about her almost death-day and left conversations when Green Goblin was brought up. She’s not afraid of heights (she was almost sure she would be) and she’s sleeping great!

 

She felt Peter’s hand on her back, gently rubbing back and forth and the pressure felt nice but she didn’t push into his hand like she normally does. She just really wants to finish her makeup. She’s got fifteen minutes until the curtain rises. 

 

“Uh, Gwen—”

 

“I’m not a loser.” She snaps before she could even think of a proper, appropriate response. She internally cringed as she started to apply a thick layer of highlighter to her cheekbones and nose (it might look like a lot now, but on stage, it’ll look great). Peter’s hand stilled but he didn’t move and she found comfort in that. Putting her makeup away, she reached for the hairspray and comb.

 

“Okay, yeah.” Peter said as she shook the can. He backed away when she gave a warning, knowing his senses wouldn’t appreciate getting gassed. “You’re not a loser.”

 

“No, that’s not—” She took a deep, calming breath. Fully exhaling, she turned to look at him and gave him a soft smile, reaching for one of his hands with both of hers. “I’m sorry, I was just getting all worked up. I’m fine, but I should really change now. You should join Harley and Harry again.” 

 

“Oh, well, uh, Pepper’s here too.” Peter said as he rose from his chair. Gwen’s smile became a little bigger at that, ushering him towards the door with a promise that he’ll see her again soon. Dropping one last kiss, he left and she stared at her doll costume that hung on its rack like it had the ability to make her feel better. 

 

---

 

Peter walked down the dim hallways, still listening to Gwen's heartbeat, growing a little fainter and fainter the more he walked away. 

 

He looked around a bit as he walked and while there was nothing that garnered his attention, he was struck with the idea that Gwen’s walked down this hallway so many times in so many different productions all in years prior. How many times did she run down this hallway? How many conversations have these walls heard? 

 

As he got further down the hallway, he was back to the main entrance of the school where he saw some people looking at a blue fabric pin-up that hung along the wall. They were crowding around it, some taking their time to observe, others pointing and talking to friends or family. 

 

Peter peered at it as soon as he was able and he also couldn't help but stop in his tracks, taking in the beautifully decorated presentation. 

 

Nutcrackers of Years Passed was the title, in big bubble cutout letters. Below it, pictures of the production from various years. There was one from 1999 which was a beautiful shot of the Sugar Plum Fairy, a big smile on her face as she was stuck in midair, doing the perfect splits. Ruby Gunne, age 18, Sugar Plum Fairy. 

 

Another picture was of the Nutcracker and Mouse King, sword fighting in 2004. Blake Sullivan, age 17, Nutcracker. Ellis Jamie, age 15, Mouse King.

 

2010. Cecelia Fischer, age 16, Clara.

 

2014. Dalton Gomez, age 12, Fritz.

 

Peter looked around appreciatively until he saw one picture that stuck out to him. It was of a little blonde girl in a blue and white dress with snowflake sequins embroidered into the skirts. A big smile on her face as snow fell onto her hair. She was in mid-spin, her tutu looking like a halo around her. Peter looked down at the wording below the picture and smiled softly. 2010. Gwendolyn Stacy, age 9, snow fairy. 

 

“Oh, look!” Peter heard someone say from behind him. Not looking away, he focused on the voice. “That’s the little girl!” 

 

“Is it?” Another voice asked. After a best of silence, the voice hummed. “Well, look at that.” 

 

“She’s so pretty!” Peter looked at the voices as subtly as he could, seeing the way they pointed at the playbill and looked at Gwen’s picture from when she was nine. He had yet to grab on so he doesn’t know which photo they used of Gwen’s but they ain’t wrong; Gwen is beautiful. 

 

The lobby music suddenly changed to announce that the recital would be starting in five minutes. Peter took one last look at the photos and began walking towards the auditorium. Talking grew a little louder by the second as he got closer and when he finally made it into the theater, he spotted Pepper’s ginger hair and the enthusiastic wave Harley sent his way. 

 

He tried to tune out as many conversations as he could as he walked towards the front row, plopping down in his seat that was between Harry and Harley, noticing the bundle of roses that was under his seat to give to Gwen. He gave a wave and smile to Daphne and Pepper as the two were chatting amongst themselves. 

 

“Oh, Peter, I’m so happy you made it.” Daphne whispered appreciatively, her own playbill in her hand. “Gwen was talking non-stop about how excited she was for you to watch her dance.” 

 

“I’m just happy we got front row seats.” Harry chimed in, leaning forwards so Daphne could see him from behind Peter. “No way was I going to be stuck behind some beanstalk.” He chuckled to himself before looking at Pepper, squinting in the low lighting. “Hey, Gin.” 

 

“Hi, Harry.” Pepper greeted back and slipped Peter a playbill. 

 

Harley leaned into him and whispered ever so quietly, only Peter could hear him. “Is he blind or something? How has he not recognized her?” 

 

Peter only shrugged. Maybe Harry wasn’t all that intuned with Stark Industries? Or maybe if he didn’t expect to see Pepper Potts, he won’t see Pepper Potts. Basic psychology. Daphne knows of his relation with Pepper because the woman was itching to meet his adoptive mom. Gwen and Peter both made excuses with their terrible timing and Daphne wasn’t at all amused. 

 

So, with Pepper’s blessing, the grandma and mother met and they all had a lovely conversation in the Pase household. 

 

Which leads them to where they are now, waiting for the show to start and while Peter doesn’t deny Harry’s intelligence, he also can’t help but wonder just how it hasn’t clicked yet. She’s not trying to hide or anything, Pepper did her best to remain a tidbit hidden but she isn’t reaching for the stars like she normally does. 

 

It was no matter, the lights began to dim even more and the orchestra began to play a soft tune as a tall woman walked out from behind the curtain. She had her black hair slicked back into a bun and her outfit was nothing short of sharp. She didn’t even have a smile on her face which Peter figured was normal for her. 

 

“She’s kinda scary.” Harry whispered over to him and Peter felt himself nodding in agreement. Is this Madame Odine? This must be the strict instructor that Gwen’s known since she was five. Yikes. 

 

“Welcome,” Odine greeted with a loud accented voice. “To this year's performance of The Nutcracker, a tribute to the great Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. Please do remember to silence your phones and without further adieu," a dramatic pause. “The Nutcracker.” 

 

Peter clapped along with the rest of the audience, the lightning changing to a gold and purple and the song along with it. Odine walked behind the curtain once more and there was a pause before the curtain started to rise, he could hear the wheels turning and the excited whispers from behind the stage. 

 

“That’s Odine Blanchet,” Peter heard Daphne whisper to Pepper. “She and my darling Ellie used to be in ballet together.”

 

“Really?” He heard Pepper whisper back with interest. 

 

“Oh yes. I spoke with her a bit and she moved from France to continue her teachings here.”

 

Peter tuned out the rest of the conversation as he flipped through the playbill and looked at the names and pictures of the cast while they rehearsed, and as a ballerina danced to the stage, he deduced that it was Angelina Kim, although he’s pretty sure he’s heard Gwen call her Lina. 

 

He looked back up and saw the girl had her hair in ringlets and a bow, wearing a maroon dress. A little boy skips in after her, the two digging through boxes and trying to hang ornaments on a fake tree, “talking” to one another. 

 

Peter watched with interest as the scene unfolded, parents telling Clara and Fritz to get ready and the guests arrived. Servants came by with drinks on trays and a dance broke out, the guests all wearing the same garb and dancing like reflections in mirrors. 

 

He watched with rapid attention, enjoying the way the dancers all moved in sync. Natasha would so enjoy this but she and Steve are in Haiti for an undercover mission concerning a dangerous steroid liquid that would essentially give people super strength (or rip their skin and bones apart, inch by inch (Peter’s seen the pictures)). 

 

Suddenly, Clara and Fritz run back into the scene and usher the guests out, kids follow along with a guy who Peter could only assume was Uncle Drosselmeyer as he performed magic tricks for the children and gifting them toys. The kids accept their gifts excitedly but still have looks of anticipation, like they wanted more. Some audience members laugh as Drosselmeyer makes a thinking face before brightening his features, like he just had a brilliant idea. He pretended to whistle to someone off stage and Peter perked up as he saw two clown dolls being carried in. 

 

Servants were carrying Gwen and… looking down at the playbill, he saw it was a guy named Jonathan Cruz. The two were dressed in matching outfits, though one more masculine than the other feminine one. The two had matching sets of grins, frozen in time. 

 

The two were stiff as boards as they were moved in, planted on the stage like they were mannequins. Drosselmeyer shooed the servants away and started to dance around Gwen and Jonathan, sprinkling glitter onto them, landing on Jonathan first than Gwen. 

 

Peter watched as Gwen blinked and looked over at Jonathan and the two “gasping” in surprise at the idea of being alive. Jonathan sprung into action first, dancing robotically and as stiffly as he could. Gwen joined in, swinging her leg and dropping from her toes to her feet in seconds before she and Jonathan began to dance together. 

 

Peter’s seen Gwen dance a bunch of times, but this was different. She now has the room and partner to actually go all out. She looked so at home on that stage and her smile looks as genuine as Peter’s seen before. 

 

The children on stage all clapped and jumped, looking at the dancing dolls in excitement as they tried to replicate the dance. 

 

Then, Jonathan began to slow down and “glitch” as he tried to keep up with the dance. Gwen was still going strong and even looking concerned when Jonathan’s magic ran out and he was back to being a lifeless doll. 

 

Uncle Drosselmeyer then began to chase Gwen and she was jumping all around, jetéing around the stage. Each time she landed from her jump, she did a spin. The audience laughed again as the two made it humorous and Drosselmeyer pretended to wipe the sweat off his face, faking exhaustion. 

 

The two were standing off to one another as Drosselmeyer caught his breath, and Gwen ran and jumped into a jeté and that’s when the magic left her. Midair, she turns stiff and Drosselmeyer catches her over his shoulder, Gwen’s legs and arms frozen and a grin back on her face. 

 

Drosselmeyer keeps an arm wrapped around Gwen’s waist and calls a servant forward, the two lifting Jonathan together and they leave with the two dolls and the next scene plays out. Peter claps and even whistles just as the rest of the viewers do. He caught Pepper looking at him with an impressed expression and he nodded along with her. She had never seen Gwen dance before, of course the blonde was gonna knock it out of the water! 

 

“She’s so beautiful, very talented.” Pepper whispered to Daphne. 

 

“She works hard.” Daphne smiled. “My Ellie has been teaching Gweny since before she was of age to join the ballet.” 

 

“Passing down the torch.” Pepper hummed and Daphne smiled even bigger. 

 

Peter looked back on stage and he knew it would be a while before he’d see Gwen again. The Sugar Plum Fairy wasn’t shown until the second act. So, while the show carried on, he looked down at the playbill and looked at Gwen’s picture. He found it unique that their photos looked more like illustrationed outlines rather than a regular snapshot. Her hair was in waves and she was missing her signature headband. Her bangs were swept to the side and she was leading with her left shoulder, looking over it with a big smile, her makeup visible in the light blue illustration. 

 

He stared a little too long at her picture but who was going to notice? Harry and Harley were watching the show intently while Daphne and Pepper were farther away. He flipped through the booklet and looked at pictures that were taken through the rehearsals. 

 

There were some funny pictures and serious ones, a couple candid to showcase the practicing the ballerinas had to do. Then he flipped the page and saw Gwen. 

 

She was standing on a small platform in front of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. There was someone off camera (only their arms visible in the frame) holding a measuring tape and taking in the circumference of Gwen’s waist. 

 

The girl in question sent the camera two thumbs up and an awkward smile, it was obvious that whoever took the photo had done so with little to no warning. 

 

He smiled a little at her picture, awkwardness and startlement exuded from the page but it was a bit funny nonetheless. He flipped that page again and in big bright letters, the next show was already advertised. 

 

“Join us March 2019 for: Giselle!” 

 

He has no idea what kind of story that is but it seems cool? Giselle was just in bright pink wording with sparkles, he’ll have to ask Gwen about it later. Was it based off of the Disney movie? He’s actually never really seen it but he’s not living under a rock! 

 

The show continued on until it reached the end of the first act. Time for intermission, or, as Peter liked to see it, time to deal with the longest line for the bathroom in history. 

 

He rises to his feet and stretches, his brother and friend doing the same while Pepper and Daphne stay seated. He leaned around Harley and offered a hand to Pepper. “Do you need the bathroom?” 

 

“When don’t I?” She grumbled and took his hand, groaning as she stood up. “Morgan needs to ease up.” 

 

“Oh, memories.” Daphne sighed dreamily, closing her eyes as she was obviously remembering her own pregnancies. Gwen told him that she had her own Aunt May; Aunt Adeline, the younger sister of Elaine. She had three cousins from Adeline but unfortunately, only Gwen and her grandma were the ones spared from The Snap.  

 

“Nightmares.” Pepper countered and the two started to make their way to the exit doors, leaving the three teenagers. Peter let out a quiet laugh, Pepper really had become miserable more and more over the progress of her pregnancy, but Morgan’s due date is inching closer and closer! Just a matter of time before they have to update their family photos. 

 

“When’s she due, again?” Harry asked when the two ladies were no longer seen, and it was like the redhead read Peter's mind.

 

“Late January, early February.” Harley answered, sitting back down in his chair. “Only a couple weeks left of uninterrupted sleep.” 

 

“Like you’d hear her.” Peter teased as he leaned against the railing of the orchestra pit, hearing a snort come from Harry and a sound of offense from Harley but Peter might’ve been trying to listen if he could hear Gwen at all from behind the curtain. He watched as Harry pulled out his phone and Harley rested his eyes, a good chance to just listen. 

 

Through the crowds, he heard a familiar voice, one he heard on the way to the dressing room. 

 

“Congrats! You didn’t break your ankle!” That must be Janessa, he thought.

 

“The nights still early, please stop saying that.” He could recognize that laugh anywhere. 

 

“Oh, you look so beautiful!” Lina? “I never get tired of seeing you wear that.”

 

“Thank you.” Gwen said and he can imagine the soft smile she has. “But could you help me? I wasn’t able to tighten the corset properly.”

 

“For sure.” Janessa said and he heard the sound of fabric tightening and the way Gwen inhaled. There was some breathing struggle but when Janessa checked in, Gwen still gave her the green light. 

 

Peter tried not to cringe as he listened to the sound of her two ribs (he’s pretty sure it’s her lowest ones) moving, ever so slightly. That can’t be healthy. 

 

“Okay, that’s tight enough, thanks.” He heard Gwen say and she did a few deep breaths, each breath becoming easier and clearer. 

 

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” What the hell? “Beautiful as always, Goldie.” There’s no way. 

 

“Hey, Weasley.” Gwen responded and her tone wasn’t as chipper as it was with Lina and Janessa but still friendly. “You were awesome out there.” 

 

“Yeah! You make a totally cool Mouse King!” Lina complemented. Seems more like a rat to me, but whatever. 

 

“Just trying to make my predecessors proud.” Weasley said. “I hear some of the graduated students are watching.” 

 

“Wait, really?” Janessa gasped. “Thanks, now I’m even more nervous.” 

 

“Don’t be, you’re a fantastic Snow Queen.” Gwen said and he heard her ruffle her tutu a bit. “Though, the Mouse King was a little slow on those spins.”

 

“Like you could’ve gone any faster.” 

 

“I have and you know it.” 

 

“Well I guess you’ll just have to prove it.” 

 

“Yes, because proving you wrong is so fulfilling.” 

 

“Ouch, sarcasm hurts.” 

 

“Only when you’re a big baby.” Gwen then cleared her throat. “Go away, the second act is going to start soon.” 

 

“So bossy.” 

 

“Leave, Weasley.” 

 

Weasley gave a chuckle, his footsteps leaving the girls and Peter was so lost in the conversation he didn’t even realize how hard he was gripping the metal railing. He heard the telltale sound of it creaking under his grip and he let go before any physical damage was done. 

 

At least he wasn’t so lost in the conversation that he didn’t have a good handle on his strength. That would’ve been awkward to look at for the next hour.

 

Harley opened his eyes and the brothers’ met, the younger one looking confused at the obvious irritation Peter was displaying. Peter only shook his head and moved to sit back down in his seat as he heard Pepper and Daphne approaching. 

 

“What‘s wrong?” Harley whispered. 

 

“Nothing.” Peter responded and the lights dimmed once more and the curtain rose. Peter just crossed his arms over his chest, hoping he looked relaxed. 

 

Clara and the Nutcracker skipped onto stage and they were in a pretty pink castle with lollipops and candies placed decoratively around the stage. Peter watched as fairies ran in and danced around the duo excitedly. The Nutcracker goes on to act out how Clara saved his life and the fairies all looked intrigued. 

 

A few started to point to the sky and when Clara and Nutcracker looked up, Peter saw a lollipop themed throne descending from the sky and Gwen sat in her seat, her eyes closed and a gentle smile on her lips. 

 

Gone were the braids and doll makeup, the circus-like dress replaced with a beautiful pink and purple dress and all of Peter’s irritation melted away as he looked at her. Her corset was a beautiful pale pink decorated with purple and pink gems, white lace adored her bodice and waist as the skirt puffed out. 

 

At the waist, the skirt matched the pale pink, but as the ruffles went down and poofed out, the pale pink turned darker until it transformed into a magenta and it stopped at her thighs which were covered in white tights and pink shoes.

 

But it was her accessories that made the outfit stand out more. Her hair was slicked back into a bun and he could see sparkles all around her as the lights shined, a golden hair piece rested on her like a crown with matching gold arm bands that went all the way from her biceps to her wrists. 

 

Oh, wow… 

 

Gwen looks so mythical, like she was nothing but an illusion created from someone’s mind. She looked so beautiful and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Not to be dramatic, but she looked like she was made from Aphrodite’s touch. 

 

He watched as the fairies dragged Nutcracker and Clara to center stage and pointed back at Gwen, who opened her eyes and her smile widened, and as the throne touched the ground, Gwen got up and was immediately on her toes. 

 

Nutcracker bowed and Clara quickly copied the action, a little caught off guard. Gwen quickly waved them off, and she raised her arms to the fairies, slowly spinning away as she did. 

 

The fairies caught on to what she was doing and dragged Clara and Nutcracker over to two candy themed chairs while others ran off stage until they came back with ribbons and batons. 

 

Gwen sat on her throne and watched as the fairies started to celebrate, a festival had begun. 

 

Peter felt himself smile a little as different music started and fairies started to dance humorously but all in-step with each other. Clara clapped along with the beat and Nutcracker nodded with her. 

 

Soon, the music changed and all eyes were on Gwen as they cleared the stage for her. She gracefully got up off her throne, the pluck of the violin playing over and over in a somewhat ominous pattern (if Peter says so, at least) until Gwen stood with her one foot planted flatly on the ground while her other foot was behind her, curved. 

 

Then she started to tip toe with the beat, her movements fluid. Then she kicked a leg straight out and raised her arm in a curved motion above her head, her skirt bouncing with her movements. Then she picked up the pacing of her tip toeing and Peter’s mouth subconsciously dropped, she was moving with zero errors and it was so graceful and it was honestly one of the best things Peter’s ever seen. 

 

She moved from left to right, her arms moving like water as her legs kicked. She then turned around so her back was on display, dropping from her feet to her toes, a leg or two lifting until she lifted to her toes on one foot and made a triangle shape with her other leg against her calf, lifting her arms high above her head and twirled slowly; a pirouette.

 

She jumped twice before striking a pose, doing it three times until she ended up on her tip toes again, shuffling around with a smile on her face and raising each foot to the height of her ankles after every shuffle until she ended in a frozen relevé. 

 

Then she performed an arabesque which transformed into a pirouette. Peter smiled as she did that a few times and then repeated the dances over and over and the song played, getting more and more hurried as Gwen danced, her movements gaining speed. 

 

She rushed over to center stage, her tiptoes shuffling in place as she waved her arms like water, until she started to spin slowly, her smile still in place. 

 

Peter watched as she slowed, facing the audience and Peter whistled along with others who clapped and let out small cheers. He saw her grin get ever so bigger and then she spun. 

 

Across the stage, she spun, her dress making it more enticing, accentuating her moves. She danced past Clara and Nutcracker, past the fairies who pointed and jumped excitedly as she passed, she jumped high after every spin she did which gained more appreciation from the crowd. 

 

She jumped higher and higher after every spin, her movements calculated but no less graceful; free. 

 

She became a whirlwind of pinks and purples and golds, a beauty that Peter never had the pleasure to see before. Her control over her body and the way it didn’t buckle against her was insane, it was amazing! 

 

She twirled right back into center stage and gave a pose for half a second before she spun on her toes, her other leg rising to touch her knee in a triangle shape once more. The faster she spun, the higher her leg went until it was vertical with her. She looked so beautiful and happy up there. 

 

But slowly, her spin started to slow and then she stopped, planting a foot behind her and the other leg stretched straight in front, her arms raised with a slight bend, making a slight oval shape. 

 

All at once, the crowd roared with applause, Peter clapping loudly and jumping to his feet with almost everyone in the room. He whistled and Gwen’s eyes met his and her smile got bigger, the light making her lipgloss sparkle. 

 

He heard Harry and Harley cheer, Pepper and Daphne less vocal but no less enthusiastic with their praise for Gwen’s performance. People behind him were still cheering and yelling to others about her performance to be heard over all the noise. Each person was talking about her talent, her high jumps, her grace and how amazing she was. 

 

Peter agrees wholeheartedly. 

 

Eventually, Gwen has to move and so do the other dancers which causes the applause to die down a bit and Peter remains to be one of the last people to stop clapping and sit down as the show carries on.

 

---

 

After the performance, Gwen and the others all congregate in the big lobby, spread out enough to allow the viewers of the play to move and talk to each dancer, for families and friends to congratulate, say single praises, and to take pictures. 

 

Madame Odine walks among the group, making sure everyone was distanced from one another. While she walks, she gives Gwen a pleased look. Gwen can’t help but beam at her teacher, a bubble of pride; achievement, surrounding her and she has to try with all her might to stop from screaming and jumping around.  

 

It’s not easy to make Odine proud. 

 

Across the lobby, she saw Janessa swinging her arms back and forth and when Gwen looked to her far right, she saw Lina bouncing on her feet by the main doors. They all looked at each other and big smiles were shared. It felt so rewarding to know that they put on the best show this school has ever seen, not once has Gwen seen the audience stand because of them. 

 

She could still feel the roar from the crowd against her skin, her eardrums beating from it. Her heart was still racing, though less fast compared to earlier. The adrenaline had yet to wear off and she was certain she’d use it once she reunited with her loved ones. 

 

Then, all at once, the doors that led to the auditorium burst open and swarms of people melted out of it. She watched as her classmates were swallowed up by people they knew, laughter and cheers sounded in the lobby. She watched with a soft smile at the way her classmates' eyes brightened and she looked over the crowd to see if she saw Peter’s brown eyes or her grandma's milky hair coming her way.

 

And there they were, making their way to her. She’d love to meet them halfway but Odine had made it very clear that they were to not leave their positions unless they were aiming for the hallway that led to the dressing room. 

 

The hallway was right behind her. 

 

So she stayed put, feeling the way her body was leaning towards them. 

 

She felt her grin reach her ears as Peter got closer, practically racing the others to get to her first. She opened her arms wide and he barreled into her, wrapping his arms around her and spun her around while she laughed in startlement. “Peter!”

 

“You were awesome!” He squeezed her before plopping her back down on the ground, and suddenly she got a face full of flowers. Looking at white and pink roses, she gently took the bouquet from him and breathed in its scent. Looking back up at Peter, she smiled and propped up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I knew you’d like them.” 

 

“I love them.” She whispered, enjoying the warmth of his hand on her lower back, feeling the way all his fingers pressed into her through her thin leotard. “Thank you.” 

 

Peter didn’t respond, only tightening his hold on her and she didn’t miss the way his eyes flashed down to her mouth and subconsciously, she bit her lip. Just as he leaned down, the reminder that they were public crashed down on them. 

 

“Gweny!” Her grandma's voice broke the tension and Gwen looked to see Daphne walking towards the pair, her arms open to Gwen. The blonde smiled and hugged her grandma tightly. “Oh, my darling, you were magnificent!” 

 

“Grandma!” Gwen only giggled when she felt herself being squeezed. 

 

“Your mother would’ve been so proud.” Daphne whispered and Gwen’s smile turned bittersweet, closing her eyes and trying to release the sudden tightness in her shoulders. Breathe, just breathe. 

 

Daphne gripped Gwen’s shoulders and pushed her back, her hold never loosening as she looked at Gwen with pride and Gwen tried to ignore the tears forming in her grandma's blue eyes. There was a lump in her throat that Gwen tried to smile through, so she focused on her grandma's hands against her arms and the cold, kind of wet stems of the bouquet, and the presence of Peter right behind her. 

 

She’s glad it’s working. 

 

“Thanks, Grandma.” Gwen said, surprising herself that it came out stronger than she thought. Quiet, but strong. 

 

Daphne rubbed her arms once again before stepping aside and that’s when Pepper moved in, lavender perfume assaulting Gwen in the best way. In the back of her mind, she distantly thought of a meme that is trending right now and couldn’t help but laugh to herself. 

 

Her perfume could punch me in the face and I’d say thank you. 

 

She’s probably been spending too much time with Peter and Harry. 

 

Hugging Pepper around the baby bump, the ginger squeezed her hard. “You were so beautiful, honey!” She let Gwen out of her hold but didn’t step away. “So talented! You looked like you were going to take flight many times.” 

 

“Did I really?” She’s heard from others that her jumps gained air but no one’s ever compared it to flying. A selfish part of her wanted Odine to have noticed, auditable compliments would be wonderful. Or maybe from past Sugar Plum Fairies! 

 

“Oh, yes,” Pepper said firmly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of her eyes while her free hand rested on her belly. “Wouldn’t have surprised me one bit.” 

 

“Would’ve freaked me out.” She heard Harley’s voice from behind Pepper and the woman moved to the side so that Harry and Harley were in front of her now. “I would’ve been gone.” 

 

“Yeah, by walking out of here.” Peter sassed, the two older women snickering and Gwen’s pretty sure she heard Pepper lightly slap Peter’s arm. The blonde tried to suppress her giggles, knowing how much it irritated Harley that he can’t drive yet. One more year!

 

Harley wasn’t phased one bit. He merely crossed his arms over his chest and made eye contact with Peter. “I know what I’m about, Parker.” 

 

“My mistake, Keener.” Peter laughed and this time, Gwen could hear the sharp slap to Peter’s arm again, the teen laughing through the pain. “Ow!” 

 

“I thought you were great up there.” Harry took over, shoving Harley towards Peter (a very manly squeak coming from the younger teen) and patting Gwen’s arm. “Super cool.” 

 

“Thank you, Harry.” Gwen smiled and she hugged her bouquet closer to her chest. “I’m happy you came.” She turned on her heel to look at her family (because that is who they were to her now, dammit!) and her cheeks began to hurt from how hard she was smiling. “I’m happy all of you came. It really does mean a lot.” 

 

“We wouldn’t have missed it, honey.” Pepper said and Gwen understands how much of a risk the older woman is taking right now just to see a recital that Peter could have recorded. She’s seen the news and the papers, the uproar on Pepper Potts and her adopted sons was being talked about everyday, this appearance could’ve blown everything apart. 

 

Yet, she still came. 

 

It made Gwen’s heart swell, knowing that Pepper made that risk, knowing that Harry made the risk to be in public. 

 

She lucked out, didn’t she?

 

“Excuse me?” A woman called from the crowd and Gwen tried not to scream. A couple of women walked over to them, smiles on each of their faces. “You’re Gwendolyn Stacy, right?” 

 

“Yes!” She said excitedly (I need to calm down). “Yes, that's me.” 

 

“Nice to meet you!” The brunette woman offered her hand and Gwen took it like it was her lifeline, trying everything in her power to not explode as a living legend was shaking her hand. “You were amazing out there!” 

 

“Thank you!” She side stepped a little so her family and friends can see the woman a little more clearly. “Everyone, this is Ruby Gunne, she was the Sugar Plum Fairy in ‘99.” Her photos were literally everywhere in the school. Ruby Gunne had set the standard, and at times, it was hard to compete. 

 

“Hello!” Ruby smiled and waved. “I also have some other Sugar Plum Fairies with me.” 

 

“Yes!” Gwen nodded and gestured to each woman accordingly. More legends! “Rosalie Johnson who was in the 2004 production. This is Maria Sanchez and she was the Sugar Plum Fairy when I was a snow fairy in 2010.” 

 

“You were adorable in your costume.” Maria winked and Gwen shook her head. Maria was the type of castmate that literally everyone wanted to be friends with and Gwen remembers wanting to be just like her. 

 

“And this is Soraya Jackson, she was a part of the 2014 play.” She finished, also remembering how cool Soraya was. 

 

“Girl, get over here.” Soraya opened her arms wide and Gwen beamed, handing her flowers back to Peter before hugging Soraya tightly. The older girl had a death grip on Gwen but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She missed both Maria and Soraya. “You’ve gotten so tall!” 

 

“We just wanted to let you know how great you were.” Maria said, resting her hand on Gwen’s shoulder. “You better keep trying out for the bigger rolls. You only have till next summer then you graduate from this school.”

 

That’s depressing. But Gwen smiled and nodded, waving goodbye at the women who made her night even better after a bit more conversation. She reached for her flowers and held them to her when her grandma began to speak.

 

“Well,” Daphne lightly clapped her hands together. “That sure was nice of them stop by and talk with you! But why don’t you get changed and packed up, we’ll be waiting right outside for you. Maybe,” a wink was passed over to Gwen. “We could even celebrate with dinner.” 

 

Gwen gasped loudly before she could even think of the proper way to respond to her grandma. “Ollie’s! Please Grandma, I haven’t been there in forever!” 

 

“Ollie’s?” Peter tilted his head and she nodded enthusiastically. She and Peter have never been there together but he’s often talked about going there a bunch with Tony Stark, he was even there with Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov the night of her… incident.

 

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Daphne said, laughing when Gwen clapped her hands together. “Now get going, you.” 

 

Gwen laughed as she turned for the hallway, grabbing Peter’s arm and dragging him with her without thinking twice. She continued to hold the roses to her chest, mindful of their delicacy and tried to keep them as sturdy as possible but a few petals fell, leaving a trail behind them. 

 

It was kind of cool, it matched her outfit and made the look of the Sugar Plum Fairy all the more magical. 

 

Entering the dressing room, she saw that she and Peter were the only ones there, the audible buzz of the vanity lights made it seem less suffocating, but she can imagine how much of an annoyance it was to Peter. 

 

Approaching the desk she used earlier, she gently set the bundle of roses down. “These are just beautiful, Peter.” She said as she made sure they were out of the way of her makeup bags as she began to search for makeup wipes and facial cleanser. “I’ll have to find a good enough vase for them. Can’t have them in just a regular glass—”

 

Firm hands planted on her waist and spun her around, immediately his lips were on hers and he pushed her against the vanity, a gasp of surprise leaving Gwen and she struggled to gain that air back as he was kissing her hard and fast. 

 

This was definitely something they’ve never done before, they’ve never kissed like this. Ever. It was overwhelming and she couldn’t seem to catch up with him, leaving her feeling sloppy. 

 

“Pete—Peter.” She tried to say but it came out as more of a mumble. She put both her hands on his shoulders and tried to pretend that she was less affected by him than she actually was. “Peter, w-wait—”

 

“Who’s Weasley?” He moved to kiss her neck, just behind her ear and her mouth fell open just a bit at the sensation. “Hm? A friend?” 

 

“Yes—yeah, just a friend.” Her voice came out much more airy than she thought possible, enjoying the way he gently nibbled her ear before kissing down the column of her throat. “He—Peter,” a sense of clarity hit her. “What if someone sees?" 

 

He picked his head up from her neck, staring down at her and she couldn’t help the short breaths escaping her. “Let them.” 

 

She tried to speak, but then he kissed her again and all thought left her genius brain. She moved her hands to Peter’s hair and gripped the strands harshly, relishing in the way the flat of his hand was pressed along her rib, the junction between his pointer finger and thumb outlining the bottom of her breast. 

 

She exhaled harshly into the kiss, her nails scratching the back of his head, her stomach fluttering when he groaned lightly into her mouth. His tongue prodded her lower lip and she opened her mouth with zero hesitation, the unfamiliar feeling of a tongue against hers was definitely… strange. But it made her heart skip a beat, made her clench her thighs together as a thrill went down her core. 

 

Peter pushed her more into the vanity, the edge cutting into her lower back but she didn’t care, not as he was using his knee to spread her legs apart, and Gwen gasped as she felt her pelvis connect with his and the feeling of him rolling against her. She moaned sweetly and groaned when he bit her bottom lip, moving back to kiss her neck again. 

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he lightly bit her neck, she shivered when he licked the spot he just used his teeth on, “so beautiful.” 

 

“Peter…” her breath hitched, her head slowly rolling backwards while he practically assaulted her neck. She could completely forget where she was, lost in his touch, his hands radiating warmth as his kisses made her float. 

 

“Goldie, you in here—oh.” 

 

Gwen, startled, pushed away from Peter harsher than she meant to but he didn’t move (stupid spider powers). Gwen was still pinned to the vanity with only her tiptoes brushing against the floor, she was certain that her lipstick was smudged, her neck must be red, and Peter’s hands hadn’t moved. It was very obvious what was just happening. 

 

Weasley stood in the doorway, eyes as wide as the fancy plates her grandma has locked in an upper cabinet that has never seen the light of day and his mouth agape. 

 

Oh shit.

 

“Weasley,” she began, a nervous giggle at the tip of her tongue. We’re fucked. “We, uh, it’s—” 

 

“Weasley,” Peter interrupted, and she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad at him. Lord knows she would’ve just made the situation worse for all three of them. “Nice to meet you, man.” 

 

“Uhm,” Weasley quickly shot a look at Gwen before looking at Peter again. She tried not to feel too bad for the confused look her castmate had. “You too, uh…?” 

 

The brunette smiled politely but Gwen saw his jaw tense and he pressed his hand a little harder into her rib. It didn’t hurt her, but when Weasley looked at his hand, she immediately knew what Peter was trying to do. 

 

Send a message. 

 

“Peter. Her boyfriend.”

 

“Boyfriend?” Weasley blanched, quickly blinking like he had something in his eyes and she felt irritation. Is he serious?

 

“I’ve told you about Peter before, Weasley.” She said, gently pushing Peter away by his shoulder. This time, he did move and she planted herself back on the ground, her face hot with embarrassment. 

 

First time making out with Peter and they were walked in on. At least it wasn’t her grandma! Or Pepper! God forbid it had been Madame Odine, that would've been a nightmare and a half and Gwen wants to shrink at the mere thought of it.

 

“Right…” Weasley shifted on his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He was obviously uncomfortable and he wasn’t the only one, Gwen began to pick at her tutu, threading the material between her fingers and picking up glitter from it. This is so embarrassing. 

 

Only one not affected is Peter, still smiling politely at Weasley. She was so sure he’d be a stammering, bloody blush red mess. But no, he just seems… proud?

 

“So you’re the Rat King.” Peter began, a hand still on her back. 

 

“Mouse King—”

 

“Sure.” Peter interrupted again. She frowned as she looked up at him, dropping the fabric and instead crossed her arms over her chest. What is he doing? “You were great up there, man. You really embodied a rodent.” 

 

“Thanks.” Weasley said curtly, smiling though it was small and seemed painful. “But I mean,” he gestured to Gwen, his smile growing bigger and genuine. “She was the real star.”

 

“Don’t I know it.” Peter laughed forcefully, and this time it was obvious the teen was itching to no longer be around Weasley. Though she still wanted answers for his snarky words from earlier, she decided to take pity on him. 

 

“Well, I should really get changed,” she looked at before like he would back her up and turned around to start collecting her makeup bags. “Grandma is waiting for us.” 

 

“Yes!” Peter said a bit too loudly, gladly taking her makeup bags that she hands to him, holding them tightly while she grabs her tot bag and holds it open so he could dump it all into the flower printed fabric. She can remove her makeup later. “Yup, can’t keep them waiting.”

 

“Okay, well, I’ll see you for tomorrow's performance, Gwen.” Weasley said, and she nodded back at him while she went to grab her other bag that held her clothes and slowly walked over to the changing stalls. “I’m sure it’ll be just as great as tonight.” 

 

“One can only hope, Weasley.” She opened a curtain. “Bye, now!” She shut it with a quick whip of her wrist and she was left alone in a dim, skinny cement stall with only a purple curtain to protect her decency. 

 

What kind do I even have left?

 

She brought her hands to her face and tried not to groan loudly into them, settling for a (hopefully) quiet sigh. What she and Peter did was totally inappropriate, they shouldn’t have gotten so carried away in public. Literally anyone could’ve walked in! She’d rather it have been Janessa or Lina to be honest, but Weasley was probably the third best option. 

 

It got him off her back, he didn’t have authority to suspend her from ballet nor ground her. But, he did have the ability to talk. He wouldn’t spread around what he saw, right? Not even to his friends? 

 

Fingers crossed, I guess.

Notes:

hehehehee😏

Chapter 28

Notes:

Another chapta for youusssss
I hope you guys like it.
Incase it wasn’t obvious, we’re kinda in the “slice of life” arc rn, leading up to the next problem. I figured it was time to let Peter relax a bit, let his guard down before I introduce the next person to ruin his life.
HAPPY READINGGGG

Even a couple hours after his and Gwen’s rendezvous in the dressing room and a nice dinner with everyone, he could still feel the tingle on his lips and the way his hands missed holding her. He sat in the front seat of the car as Pepper drove down the snowy roads, talking about the performance as Harley sat in the back playing on his phone.

 

Peter occasionally made comments with Pepper but his mind remained elsewhere. Back in that dressing room and how he pulled such… sounds out of her, how she gripped his hair and the way she basically brought him over her, it was so new but he wanted to do it again and again and again—

 

He shifted in his seat as he continued to stare out the window and a certain store window they passed by made his current thoughts come to a halt as a new segment started. It was a baby store, mother mannequins stood in the window holding their babies or caressing their pregnant bellies, each wearing different outfits with bassinates and toys being placed by them. 

 

He bit his lip as he realized that he nor Harley haven’t really gotten Pepper anything in preparation for Morgan. No supplies, no clothing for both girls, no toys or books. He felt guilt lay heavy on him as he turned to stare at the ginger women, and also realized that she hadn’t even talked about having a baby shower. Why not? 

 

“Hey, Pep,” he began. “Are you planning on having a party?” 

 

“Party?” She looked at him for a second, the blue glow of the center counsel doing little to hide her now sorrowful expression. “No, not really, Pete.” 

 

“Not even with Rhodey or Happy?” Harley asked from the backseat. “Natasha or—”

 

“It’s not about that, honey.” Pepper sighed. “It wouldn’t be the same.” She pauses before elaborating. “Doing it without Tony or… my mother… it just isn’t something I want to do.” 

 

Peter nodded, and Harley remained silent too. Peter was curious in the past, and when he googled Pepper’s name he saw that her parents were Abigail and Phillip Potts. Two hardworking people who had an equally hardworking daughter. Not much about them was public knowledge and he never asked Pepper more, he won’t. He never even brought it up to Mr. Stark. 

 

A plan started to form in Peter’s big brain and while he won’t go against Pepper’s wishes, he can’t just stand by and not give any preparations for Morgan. He’ll need to talk with Harley more about it when they get home and maybe even mention something to Gwen. 

 

The remainder of the car ride consisted of small talk about anything other than a baby shower and before he knew it, they were pulling up into their snowy driveway. He told Pepper he’ll shovel tomorrow morning and she rubbed his cheek in thanks before they climbed out of the car and walked up the porch steps. Millie could be seen jumping excitedly behind the glass door, staring at them like she hasn’t seen them in forever. 

 

He laughed as they walked in and Millie booked it for the outside, immediately going to the bathroom. 

 

“Well,” Pepper sighed tiredly. “I’m going to bed.” She pulled her shoes off and Harley bent to pick them up for her, ready to hand them over. “I will see you boys tomorrow.” She kissed Harley’s head and grabbed her black heels and went to kiss Peter’s forehead. “Love you.” 

 

Peter only smiled and nodded while Harley returned the sentiment. Peter sat on the couch and watched as Pepper walked up the stairs and even when he couldn’t see her anymore, he waited to hear her door close. Once it did, he sat up straight and Harley looked at him with a startled expression while he opened the door for Millie to walk back in. “What?” 

 

“We can’t just not get Pepper anything.” He said and maybe his tone was sterner than he meant. But it was true! Pepper’s done so much for him and Harley, the very least they could do was make this time in her life less stressful. “We should go shopping tomorrow for her.” 

 

“Tomorrow?” Harley groaned quietly as he sat down on the other couch, rubbing his eyes hard. “Isn’t it supposed to be really cold?” 

 

“We’ll be inside a store.” Seemed like an excellent point if Peter ever heard one. “Come on, Harls.” 

 

“Fine, fine.” Harley sighed, staring tiredly at the grand piano that was in the corner of the living room, Peter’s back was to it. “What do we even get her?” 

 

“Erm,” he blinked. How much stuff does a baby need? “I guess, like, bottles, and a bath time thingy for Morgan. Probably bedtime books.” 

 

Harley tilted his head, moving his eyes to stare at Peter again, confusion plain as day. “Bath time thingy?” 

 

“Yeah, ya know,” Peter made weird hand motions, hoping it conveyed a little baby bath time support that would allow the baby to be in the bathtub without Pepper having to support her head or only be able to use one hand at all times. “To keep her in the water but… like, safely.” 

 

“Oh those things.” Harley said with more clarity than before.

 

“Yeah, those things.” Peter sniffed, looking at a family portrait that hung on the wall. It was taken back in September along the lake but it was already showing the beginnings of the fall season. It was also the same day Harley fell in the lake and Pepper had to call the photoshoot off early. 

 

“She’d probably need a crib, too.” Harley said. “Those things seem important.” 

 

“Okay, we can stop the nonchalance.” Peter chuckled. A crib is important but every time he’s seen Pepper look online, she’s never thrilled with the results. “What if… we made one for her.” 

 

Harley perked up, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Like, out of wood?” 

 

“No, nanotech.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Yes, out of wood. We could build the base, make sure it’s stable, then we can get to work on carving out the designs and maybe adding extra stuff. Like, a hand-made mobile, or a storage department under it.” 

 

“Have you ever done something like that?” Harley asked. “Like, not tryna piss on your party, but I feel like building a crib will be tougher than putting together a broken DVD player.” 

 

Okay, ouch. DVD players have always been a walk in the park for Peter and they will always be. He’s helped Mr. Stark out with almost everything, and that includes building and repairing machines, solving chemical imbalance solutions, and helping the man figure out a flaw in a physics equation. 

 

He also created a serum to cure Green Goblin in less than a day! 

 

“Okay, rude.” Peter settled on. “And it’s not like I’ll just be doing this blind. I’ll do my research and make sure it’s safe and can be done properly the first time.” He then leaned back against the couch, smirking slightly at his brother. “You forget who you’re talking to.” 

 

Harley only raised an eyebrow, totally unimpressed. “Yeah, okay, right.” 

 

---

 

The cold, winter air shot at the occupants of the street as they walked down it. Whether for work or pleasure, people of New York would rather die than be holed up in their apartments all day long. 

 

So that’s where Peter, Harley, and Gwen found themselves, fighting against the strong wind and little snowflakes pelting against their faces as they tried to make it into the best baby store just north of Queens. Harley mushed ahead, putting all his strength into keeping his body forwards and making tracks for Peter and Gwen to follow. Once inside, the little door with its bell slammed shut and nearly swatted Harley in the butt. 

 

The store was playing soft instrumental music and it was super quant, the walls were a baby blue and with the items on display, it looked like it belonged in the Regency era. 

 

“Hello!” An older lady greeted them with a smile behind the cash register. “Quit a blizzard out there, isn’t it?” 

 

“It’s terrible.” Gwen said with a smile, laughing a little with the lady. “Hopefully it’ll die down soon!” 

 

“Did you guys walk here?” The lady, now a little closer so Peter can see her nametag.

 

“We drove but parking was hard to find.” Peter answered Julia, looking over the store again. He had to admit, it’s very cute. He’s never been in here, and obviously Harley hasn’t either. Gwen says she’s walked past it before on walks with Daphne but otherwise neither of them made the move to go in. What was the point?

 

“Well, hopefully you guys won’t have to walk too far, then.” Julia smiled. “Anyways! Can I help you guys find anything?” 

 

“We’re looking for baby girl things, ma’am.” Harley said from a clothing rack. “Our mom is due in February.” 

 

“Has she had a baby shower yet?” Julian asked, walking from behind the counter. 

 

“No, ma’am.” Peter shook his head, feeling Gwen’s shoulder gently bump into his and she leaned towards a little clothing rack, obviously trying to read the print on some onesies. “She doesn’t want to have one, but she’s done so much for us, we just want to return the favor and get her everything she could need.” 

 

“Oh, well that’s so sweet of you guys.” Julia said with a hand over her heart. “This is a very exciting but anxious time in a woman’s life, it will definitely help knowing she has the supplies prepared.” Julia then sighed a little dreamily. “I remember when I was pregnant with my boys, and it was certainly stressful but I had a great support system. And it seems like your mom does, too.” 

 

Peter only smiled a little bigger and Gwen bumped his shoulder again. She was looking at him knowingly with a sparkle in her blue eyes and he had to remind himself that they’re in a store. But she’s just so beautiful and he’s really grateful that she’s here to help. She told him earlier that she’s not an expert on babies by any means, but she’s had to help out a few times when she was younger when her brothers were babies, so she has at least a small idea of essentials. 

 

“Okay, you said it’s a baby girl, is there a nursery theme yet?” Julia asked, walking to the back of the store and indicating the teens to follow her. Harley only shrugged and looked at Peter.

 

“Mom likes the forest theme.” Peter recalled, already seeing the transition from baby boy to baby neutrals to baby girl in its clothing and decor and supplies. “I may have watched over her shoulder when she was looking at ideas.” 

 

He also may or may not have found her Pinterest and stalked her boards to see what kind of baby stuff she likes. But he wasn’t going to say that. 

 

“Okay, well, when you shop for babies, you want to shop for all ages.” Julia advised. “Babies grow fast, some grow out of newborn clothing within a few weeks to a month.” 

 

“Holy crap.” Harley said quickly, like his mouth was too fast for his brain to catch. “What are they feeding those kids?” 

 

“Formula versus breast feeding plays a part.” Julia laughed, turning towards a shelf with feeding supplies. “Do you know if your mom will be breast feeding?” 

 

Ohh, crap. Peter did not know, it’s not something he’s ever wondered about. He and Harley exchanged a look but otherwise didn’t answer. 

 

But then Gwen came in to save the day. “Let’s get the essentials first, the ones we know for sure we need to get, and later on I can talk with her about it.” She then shrugged. “Then, after Morgan’s born, we can see about getting that breast pump.” 

 

“Why wait till after she’s born?” Harley asked, somehow getting his hands on a baby fabric toy and playing with it in his hands. 

 

“Some women can’t breast feed.” Gwen explained. “Their ducts just sometimes don’t produce enough milk to do so. We don’t want to buy it only for it to not be something she needs.” 

 

Oh, that makes sense. Good thing Gwen agreed to come. 

 

“Okay, well, then we will for sure get the clothing and toys settled.” Julia said, moving away from the shelves. “I recommend that you look for a handful or two of newborn clothes but otherwise, focus on older baby clothing. We do go up to toddler sizes but usually stop around the three year age mark.” Julia pointed over to the counter behind her. “I’ll be back there, please call for me if you need help.” 

 

Then she walked away, leaving the three teens to pick out a good majority of things for Morgan. Peter and Gwen tackled racks together while Harley declared that he’ll look at toys. 

 

“Make sure you focus on development toys rather than just stuffed animals.” Peter reminded him and Harley sent him a thumbs up but didn’t falter in his quest for baby toys. 

 

“Oh, Peter, look at this.” Gwen held up a little blue jean overall dress with white flowers placed randomly around it. “This is just too cute. It’s going in the cart.” 

 

When did she grab a cart? Peter doesn’t even remember her doing that. He didn’t even have time to respond as she once again held up another article of clothing. 

 

“Oooh,” Gwen whispered excitedly. “Morgan will be styling for spring next year.” It was a little white knit sweater with bumblebees adoring the front. “I’m literally going to have a heart attack.” 

 

“Gweny,” Peter chuckled. “They’re just clothes.” 

 

“Not just clothes, Peter.” Gwen said with a finger wag. “It’s baby clothes. It’s like a mini milestone that they pass every month, a clear sign that the baby is growing and you’re giving them the nutrients they need to become stronger and happy.” 

 

Peter only tilted his head, he’s never thought of it that way before. He’s always enjoyed kids, having entertained them a lot as Spider-Man. He still remembers a little post-it note autograph he gave a kid a couple months ago. 

 

But he’s never really been around toddlers and babies, and because he’s seen a lack of them in his life, he doesn’t really put much thought into them. 

 

“Plus, ya know, they’re girl clothes and I’ve only helped shop for boy ones.” Gwen said with a shrug, looking through the rack again. “So this is exciting.” 

 

“Yeah, I bet.” Peter mumbled, watching the way her earrings moved and gleamed in the store's lighting. They’re so mesmerizing. “You know more about this kind of stuff than I do.” 

 

Gwen stopped looking through the rack and turned her body towards him, popping a hip out and planting her hand on it. “Only because I’ve had younger brothers and cousins. I was nine when my youngest brother was born in late 2010, he’s going to be turning eight on the 20th. I remember sitting in those hospital chairs and I was bored out of my mind. But then my father came from down the hall and told Nate, Zac, and I that we officially have a little brother.” She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Tim was… tinier than Nate and Zac were, but I was instantly in love with him. It was no different than with the other two.” She began to look through the clothes again and Peter could tell she’s trying real hard to not look at him. “I learned as they grew,” that’s when she looked back at him. “And so will you.” 

 

His response was immediate. “I don’t know, Gwen.” 

 

“You will.” She insisted. “The minute you see her, you’ll be so overwhelmed by how you could love this little,” her hands morphed to show a small shape, kind of like a potato. “Baby and you’ll just want to hold her forever and protect her and be insistent to help and…” she sniffed but Peter saw no tears in her eyes. “I’m sure it’s entirely different from gaining a sibling versus having your own baby, but…” 

 

Peter put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Gwen lost everyone. Her parents, brothers, aunt and uncle, cousins. She was forced to live with a grandma that she only saw a couple times a year, sometimes only once a year. Peter doesn’t really understand how she must’ve felt, not entirely. He’s never had a sibling before, he and Harley haven’t even been brothers for a year yet. 

 

Gwen’s been a sister since she was one years old, the age gap between her and Nate wasn’t a large one. But it’s all she’s ever known, and to have that suddenly taken from her? He can imagine it’s like losing a part of herself. He’s once again struck with the reminder that Harley also experienced this, and Peter felt his gut churn awfully.

 

“Anyways,” Gwen brushed her bangs aside, the hair was longer than before and now they seem to be growing into “curtain bangs” as she once told him. “Morgan deserves the best, and that includes clothing. So I will continue to fill this cart with essentials.” She nodded towards the section of bedding and other small newborn essentials. “Why don’t you pick out some of her decor and blankets? We’ll divide and conquer.” 

 

He stared at her a little longer than probably necessary, but he squeezed her shoulder once again and left her to deal with the clothing, knowing space is exactly what she needs right now. So, he walked over to the bedding and picked out a two-pack sheet bundle, one a pretty pink while the other was a cream with pink wildflowers. How often will the bedding need to be changed? Probably a lot, he knows babies can sometimes have blowouts (ew), so he grabbed more of different designs. A light green one with little deer and bunnies over it, an orangish sheet with white flowers. He eyed the space themed sheets and blankets and felt a shiver go down his spine. 

 

He quickly turned away from it and went back to the cart where Gwen already loaded a lot of clothing in, including hats and socks, a pair of mittens that fit newborns to five months. The two began to organize the cart a little, making it easier to not only have more room for other things but for when it’s time to check out it can go smoother. 

 

Gwen managed to put more clothing in the cart, comfy newborn clothes and older, but it wasn’t as much as Peter was expecting. When asked about it, Gwen said, “I think that, while this helps, it shouldn’t take away Pepper’s chance to really shop for Morgan herself.” 

 

“Hm.” Peter hummed, not expecting that answer. Gwen has always had a way with words, but she’s surprisingly… in-tune with this whole baby stuff. Just another thing she must’ve learned before. He leaned to wrap his arm over her shoulders and gave her forehead a quick kiss, gaining giggles from her.

 

“Guys!” Harley called, rushing to the cart with his arms full of toys which he unceremoniously dropped in the cart. “I think Morgan will be entertained until she’s at least four.” 

 

Peter peeked in the cart and it seemed like Harley did take his words into consideration. There was a rainbow stacking toy, a shape sorting cube, and a crinkly fox blanket toy. A teddy bear rattle was in there as well, and a wooden animal puzzle. Morgan may not touch that for a while.

 

“Nice picks.” Gwen smiled, fixing the toys to look neater in the cart. “We should probably look for teething toys, too.” 

 

“Oh, I did just see a few fruit themed ones but my hands were kinda full.” Harley inched back towards an aisle and Gwen pushed the cart over to it, though with some struggle. The cart did look a little heavy. 

 

“Do you want me to push it?” He asked and Gwen wasted no time in moving out of the way and he snorted quietly as she rushed away and looked at the teething toys. 

 

“Okay, yes, she needs to have these.” Gwen decided, grabbing a banana and strawberry pair that had smiling faces on them. “Oh, and this, too.” She grabbed an apple one and threw all three in the cart.

 

“Maybe some pacifiers, too?” Peter suggested, nodding to some that were hanging up. Gwen hummed, reaching over to look at the fronts and back. “Are you checking for something?”

 

“Yeah,” Gwen said, grabbing another pair and flipping it over. “Some pacifiers have cute designs but feel terrible in babies' mouths.” She showed him one and he truthfully didn’t see what’s wrong with it. “Notice how this one is just a regular, cylinder shape?” And he nodded, looking at a different one. “And this one has a slight indent at the top?” Again, he nodded and she threw the one with a slight indent in the cart. “Those kinds feel better for babies.” 

 

“You’re like an encyclopedia.” Peter said, leaning his elbows on the cart's handles. “We literally had no clue.”

 

“Yeah, none.” Harley agreed, looking at a nightlight that also played white noise. It was a bear one that hugged a small orb where the light would emit and had a speaker in its back. He threw it in the cart. 

 

“Well, each baby is different.” Gwen muttered and looked back at the pacifiers and quickly threw a symmetrical pacifier set into the cart. “Maybe Morgan will like this kind.” She then shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.” 

 

The three stayed in the store for a little longer and eventually, it was time to check out. Julia smiled at them and quickly ran the items up. The total wasn’t terrible but luckily, because of his time as Mr. Stark’s personal assistant and (paid) internship, Peter was able to pay it all with zero issue. He looked outside and saw that the blizzard had let up a bit and he was confident he and the others wouldn’t get blown over anymore. 

 

All three filled their arms with bags and wished Julia a good day before walking back out to the worst day of December. They quickly loaded up the bags into the trunk of Peter's car and practically threw themselves into the vehicle to escape the storm picking back up. As they drove out of the city, the roads and wind got worse as there were no tall buildings to block a lot of it. 

 

“Okay, so,” Peter began as they waited at the stoplight to take them out of the city. “I think we’ll put everything away in the garage.” 

 

“What?” Gwen looked at him, her eyes a little wide and worried. “But what if mice get in? Or some freaks of nature that survived this cold ass winter?” 

 

Peter and Harley both laugh loudly and he only responds when he can properly breath. “It’ll only be a temporary thing.” Peter reassured her. “I just want to paint the nursery and put the crib in it before we finish it with decorations and clothes.” Actually, now that he thinks about it, the only extra room in the house is on the main level. Pepper, Harley, and him all sleep on the second story of the cabin, shouldn’t Morgan be closer to Pepper? 

 

He’ll need to ask her about that. 

 

“Oh, so she did get a crib.” Gwen said, and he remembers how a few weeks ago he told her how there was no furniture for Morgan. With the way he worded his sentence, it makes sense for Gwen to assume. 

 

“Not exactly.” Peter said. “She can’t find one she really likes, so Harley and I decided to just make one.” He looked at her for a second with a big smile. “Probably stain it a dark color and wax it so Morgan has no possible way to get splinters.” He shrugged. “Maybe carve some designs into the wood. Oh! And make one that can connect to Pepper’s bed just in case she wants Morgan by her side for a little while.” 

 

Gwen didn’t respond and when he looked over at her, she was smiling so… softly at him. She’s smiled at him many times before but never like this, not where it looked like her cheeks were hurting and her eyes sparkling. He must’ve looked confused enough for her to put him out of his misery, because she softly rubbed his arm. “You’re just a good guy, is all.” 

 

He felt his smile grow a little wider but he looked away from her quickly, to make sure they didn’t drive off the road and so she wouldn’t see his blush. He thinks he’s just a normal person who has the ability to help others, which doesn't make him any better than anyone else. 

 

Eventually, they pulled up into the driveway that looks like it needs another good shovel. He sighed to himself, they weren’t even gone for a full two hours. 

 

Putting the car in park, the three quickly went to work to put all the bags into the insulated garage. While putting everything on an empty work bench, Peter notices Gwen look over at everything he had in there. It was nothing compared to his lab at the compound, and seeing as there was no rush anymore (as all the bags were kept out of Pepper’s sight), he let her look around a little. 

 

Harley already went back inside the house so Peter waited quietly, sitting down in his rolling stool and watched as Gwen’s eyes roamed. “You can go look, ya know.” 

 

She looked back at him, eyes wide and cheeks still red from the cold and she didn’t need to be told twice. She moved from her spot and began to look at notebooks all the while keeping her finger as a placeholder and flipping the pages back to how they were once she was done with it. 

 

She began to look at new designs Peter’s been working on, for not only his suit but his web shooters and ways to improve his AI’s and halo table. She didn’t verbalize anything, but she looked at everything with wonder and Peter just watched, enjoying the way her face changed expressions every few seconds, the way her body didn’t show a hint of hesitance anymore. 

 

She made it easy for him to get lost in her trance. 

 

He perked up a bit when she turned to him, walking slowly over to him and planted herself between his legs, resting her arms around his shoulders. As he sat, they still had a height difference but it was easier to be face to face with her this way. He immediately placed his hands on her hips and held her gently. 

 

“You got some pretty great ideas.” Gwen said, her tone quiet and soft. “Can’t wait to see you execute them all.” 

 

“If you wanted, you could always help me.” He said, rubbing his thumb along her leggings waistband. 

 

“I was actually just about to ask you about that, with the crib.” Gwen smiled. “I’ve never built anything with wood before so I can’t promise I’ll be the most efficient partner right away, but if you’d like…” she trailed off, biting her lip slightly. “Or I can just keep you company, whichever you prefer.”

 

He pretended to mull it over, even tapped a finger to his jaw in thought and Gwen rolled her eyes but otherwise didn’t say anything else. Eventually, she lightly slapped his shoulder and he broke out in a smile, laughing a little. “Sure, I’d love for you to help with the crib.”  

 

“Yay.” Gwen murmured, her eyes focused on his hair and she lightly ran her fingers through the strands. He watched her, content that nothing else was happening to them right now, it was like the entire world outside that garage was put on pause for them. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

 

“Last night?” He asked, basking in her body heat and the curves under her jacket. 

 

“After my performance.” She answered and suddenly, his face felt hot. This could be about a few things, like, their makeout sesh in the dressing room that probably would’ve gone farther than either of them intended (he truthfully doesn’t even know if he could’ve stopped, though), or his little conversation with Weasley. 

 

How does he even respond to that? He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and possibly derail her actual thought of words. 

 

He also doesn’t want to sound like an idiot. 

 

“Yeah?” Nailed it!

 

Gwen hummed. “You were jealous.” 

 

“What?” He sat up a little straighter and that’s when Gwen looked him in the eyes again and he couldn’t get a proper read on her. 

 

“You were jealous.” She said again. “I knew you were acting strangely but when it all happened I was still mortified and… I thought more about it last night after we all got back home and, I mean, with your super hearing I figured you could hear Weasley—”

 

“I did.” Peter confirmed. “I didn’t like how he spoke to you. He seems alright but I just can’t help but think sarcasm and annoyance is his way of trying to get his way—”

 

“Well, he is never going to “get his way”, Peter.” Gwen said softly, moving her hands to rest on his shoulders and he felt her nails dig into him slightly. “I have no desire to even be near him for more than I have to, and even then I try to find excuses to keep a distance.” She laughed. “Before you and I started dating and I was replaced as the dancing doll, he tried talking to me and he made fun of my habit of forgetting my bag, and I literally felt so blah.” 

 

“Blah?” He teased, gripping her waist a little harder. 

 

“I just wanted to go home.” She laughed. “Lily had just broken her ankle and I was tired and needed to do homework and it wasn’t even a minute interaction with him and I just—” she lightly slapped his shoulder as she laughed. “So if that alone doesn’t prove that I prefer a hundred you’s over one Weasley, I don’t know what will.” 

 

In truth, it did make him feel better. But she really didn’t have to explain, he saw it last night when Weasley walked into the dressing room and heard it when it was intermission, he just let it get to his head. 

 

“Thanks, Gwen.” He said, his cheeks still a little rosey. “I acted like a jerk to him.” 

 

“You did.” Gwen agreed. “But, he needed that. He doesn’t have enough people act like that towards him.” 

 

He snorted and leaned up to capture Gwen’s lips in his and he felt her practically melt. He smiled into the kiss and tugged her even closer, her hands running up the back of his head into his hair and he felt himself shiver. 

 

“Did you think about this, too?” He said between kisses, one of his hands went to cup her cheek and his thumb brushed against her cheekbone. 

 

“Maybe.” Gwen said coyly, lightly biting his bottom lip and he jumped back a little at the suddenness of her teeth on his lips.

 

“You do that a lot.” He said, leaning away from her. It wasn’t a bad thing, just definitely something he wasn’t used to. Will he ever get used to it? Probably gonna have to kiss her more to find out. 

 

“Are you uncomfortable with it?” She asked, leaning her head to the side and looked at his lips.

 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “Not at all.” He pecked her on the lips for emphasis. “Would you be?”

 

“No.” Gwen laughed a little, giving him a peck, too. “I don’t mind a bite or two.” 

 

He groaned and felt a rush of heat in his lower belly for just a second before shaking his head, he can’t believe she just said that, it was… different. Though apparently Gwen found it amusing as she turned her head upwards and laughed, holding his head a little firmer. 

 

“Sorry.” She giggled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

 

“Pretty sure that you did.” He said, resting his head on her chest, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. “You evil lady.”

 

“So I’ve been told.” She said gently and he felt her cheek rest in his head. The two stayed like that for a while, their breathing becoming in sync and Peter can feel her heart against his chest and hear it clear as day. 

 

This is nice, he thought to himself. If possible, he’d love to stay like this all the time with Gwen. But as his eyes drifted to the bench that held a ton of baby bags, he knew important things needed to be done first. “I have to call the others.”

 

“Others?”

 

“Happy, Rhodey, Nat and Steve.” He sighed a little. “Bruce and Nebula.”

 

The girl that he was stuck in space with hasn’t been on Earth since his return. He’s always felt bad that he hasn’t really talked with her since then, but according to Natasha (who tries to hold monthly conferences with allied team leaders), the girl is barely available. 

 

He can imagine trying to help out other planets and fighting for them can be pretty busy. 

 

He recalls showing her how to play rock, paper, scissors. How she made him eat much more than her, how she let him rest his head on her shoulder when both of them were so sure it was the end. 

 

How she threw Quill’s clothes at him and the weight in his stomach that came from that. 

 

“Nebula?” Gwen wondered and that’s when Peter told her everything that he could. He doesn’t know the whole story of her or how she came to be, but he knows that her sister's death was the cause for Thanos gaining the Soul Stone and it was why Quill jeopardized the plan. 

 

“I had it.” He says, unknowingly tucking his head further into Gwen’s chest. It was comfortable. Like pillows. “I had the gauntlet off and… then he attacked us and stabbed Mr. Stark only for Mr. Strange to hand over the Time Stone.” 

 

“He willingly did that?” Gwen asked and he’s pretty sure her eyes widened slightly. “Why?” 

 

“He said, “it was the only way” and then he Dusted.” Peter recalls. “I really don’t know how, I thought with that sentence alone Mr. Stark would be spared and he would be the one to fix everything.” He shook his head, shutting his eyes as he felt pressure behind them. “But then he Dusted in my arms and I—it was so bad. I thought Nebula and I were going to die and I had no idea if anyone I knew was still alive.” 

 

“Peter…” Gwen began, her fingers playing with his strands of hair. “Where was this?”

 

That's the tricky part. He’s never told anyone this part of the story before because everyone already knew where it happened. He took a deep breath and tightened his hold on her. “Some planet called Titan.” He said quietly. “I was a stowaway on that giant donut.” 

 

“You were stranded in space?” She asked incredulously. He felt her pull away and looked down at him with worried eyes. He knew that she was already aware of the spaceship that landed in New York that day and how it was reported that Spider-Man was following it, but what she didn’t know was the after facts. 

 

Which, he can’t blame her. He didn’t tell her and she was very much busy with her own troubles at that point in time. No one was really watching the news those days. 

 

He nodded. “Yeah, a lady—Carol Danvers saved me.”

 

“Is that…” she trailed off and nibbled on her bottom lip. “That nightlight you have…” 

 

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “I couldn’t be in the dark, if I was, it was like I was suddenly back there.” It’s definitely gotten a lot better since then, Garrett’s advice with lowering the brightness one by one was working. “I couldn’t even look at stars anymore. The concept of space and darkness and even being chilly would send me into a panic.”

 

Gwen stayed quiet, but her touch was reassuring. Talking about it wasn’t as maddening anymore, but it still made his heart race. 

 

“I used to love space.” He said and he felt his heart tug. A tear slipped down his cheek and he couldn’t even look at Gwen, shutting his eyes as shame flooded him. He can’t believe he’s crying in front of her, it’s so much different than when he’s cried in front of Pepper, Rhodey, or Happy. Gwen shouldn’t see him as anything other than the strong and amazing Spider-Man.

 

But then he felt her thumb gently brush his tear away, her touch cold but all he felt was warmth. She kept her hand on his cheek and her other hand put pressure on the back of his head and he felt himself leaning back into her chest. More tears began to stain her shirt and he just couldn’t help it. 

 

“I used to love it.” He breathed out harshly. “Ned and I—we were obsessed with Star Wars, and the science behind the planet's gravitational pull, dark matter, black holes, and galaxies.” It was the one major connection that they shared as it was what brought them together as friends. Admitting it to her was like losing his best friend all over again. He hasn’t told anyone his dislike, he’s sure it’s obvious though. 

 

His posters on Star War and science were all either thrown away or put in storage. Anything to do with spaceship models were in boxes. Even a photo of him, May, and Ben at a birthday party was put away all because there was a photo of an alien behind them! 

 

The only thing left out that had anything to do with space was his dads telescope that he will not look out of. At least, not yet. 

 

“It’s okay.” He heard her mumble and he didn’t even realize how much he was rambling or how much she'd shushed him. “It’s okay, Peter.” 

 

He hid his face in her sweater, trying to listen to her heartbeat to calm him down. But he felt himself shaking a little and the way his breathing was a little rough (though, he may consider that a win. He’s had far worse attacks then this) and he tried with all his might to settle down a little. 

 

It was easier than all the past times, and he can’t tell if it’s because he’s already been getting help with this particular subject in therapy or if it’s because Gwen’s here. 

 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before there was nothing but the hum of electricity in the air. 

 

---

 

Turns out, Pepper was waiting to see if she can breast feed when Morgan’s born to determine whether or not she’d need a breast pump. Gwen sparked up a conversation with her after their time in the garage and the two got to talking about Morgan while Peter went up to the bathroom to make himself look a little more put together before he could face Pepper. He didn’t need her questioning his slightly red eyes and face and the way he still sniffed slightly. 

 

Once he returned, Gwen and Pepper were spitting out names back and forth, trying to find a good one for Morgan's middle name. So far not so good. 

 

But, a couple weeks have passed and Pepper was no closer to finding a good middle name for Morgan. Peter had successfully moved his bedroom down to the first floor as Morgan’s nursery was now  in his old room which just happened to be across from Pepper’s room. While he was doing manual labor, he was secretly coming up with a list that he thinks she’d might like but right now, Morgan wasn’t the first thing on his mind.

 

Because the first was Gwen.

 

December 14, 2018. 

 

Gwen’s seventeenth birthday. For weeks, he’s toyed with the idea of gifting the jewelry to her before her first ballet performance, but then he figured that she had already had jewelry picked out and he didn’t want to hinder that. 

 

So instead, he decided to wait till her birthday. 

 

He felt the gift in his pocket, the necklace, earrings, and bracelet all together in one dark blue satin box with a silver bow wrapped around it. He stood outside her home and took a deep breath before knocking politely, hearing Daphne from the living room call up to Gwen. 

 

Then the door opened and he smiled brightly at the older lady. “Evening, Mrs. Pase.” 

 

“Oh, Peter,” Daphne reached up to tug him into a hug. “Don’t you look nice!” And that’s when he heard her sniff his jacket and he couldn’t help the laugh he let out. “And you smell so good.” 

 

“Thanks, Mrs. Pase.” He said, the two breaking apart from their hug. He wasn’t dressed up in a tux or anything, Gwen made it clear that she had no desire to go anywhere too fancy, and he knows how much she’s missed being able to sing or play her instruments (being in ballet does hinder other hobbies), so he decided to take her to an arcade that not only has laser tag, but karaoke, guitar hero, and dance dance revolution. 

 

So, he made sure to wear a nice outfit that still looked casual. 

 

“So tell me again where you’ll be going.” Daphne walked to the kitchen and Peter followed. The older woman turned the light on and grabbed a small platter of cheese, meat, and crackers from the fridge and placed it on the island. “Have as much as you’d like.”

 

“Thank you.” Peter took some snacks and sat down on the stool. “We’ll be going to Wild Card, Gwen has always wanted to go there and so I thought why not tonight?” 

 

“You’ve been there before?” Daphne asked. 

 

“Only once, with my best friend.” He answered. “It was cool, we were there all day.” 

 

“That will be so fun.” Daphne smiled. “Now,” she lowered her voice. “Do you have the gift?” 

 

Daphne was certainly in the know for Gwen’s present and he quickly took it out of his pocket and showed her, Daphne gasped quietly and gushed over how beautiful the set was. 

 

“Oh, Peter, she’ll just love it.” Daphne sounded super confident and that made him feel more so too. He quickly pocketed the gift when he heard Gwen run down the stairs. Wearing an outfit that was just like his (nice but casual), he knew they’d have no trouble keeping cool from all the running they were about to be doing. 

 

“Don’t you look beautiful, Miss Seventeen.” Peter teased and Gwen gently punched him in the shoulder. “Happy birthday.” He sang. 

 

“This is the fourth time today you’ve told me that.” Gwen giggled and it was true, he has no shame. Today is their last full week of school until winter break and he was not the only one to make it a big deal. Cindy ran down the hallway carrying three different birthday balloons for Gwen, all while wishing her a happy birthday loudly. 

 

Betty Brant’s cousin, Luana, gave Gwen a handmade birthday card in the middle of class, Abe and Charles yelled it out to her during passing time, Charles actually tripping over his feet as he wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing. 

 

“Happy birthday, Stacy!” He had yelled and then barreled headfirst into Abe’s backpack which gained laughs amongst the crowd. Then Peter saw all the birthday posts on social media and it blown him away how liked and loved Gwen is by her friends and peers. 

 

But he’s pretty sure he was the first one to wish her a happy birthday the minute it struck midnight. Then he wished her another happy birthday when he saw her for school, and one when they departed from school, and just now! 

 

He’ll probably do it again later tonight if he’s being honest. 

 

Daphne quickly ushered the two out of the house with the promise of being back before 11pm. She kissed Gwen on the cheek and wished her a good time before she shut the door and the teens walked to Peter’s car. Willy Card was only a few minute car ride from Daphne and Gwen’s house and the two sang to music on the way there and before they knew it, the arcade was right in front of them. 

 

They hopped out of the car quickly and Gwen practically ran inside and left Peter in the dust. Wild Card was known for its old school fashion. They still used tokens instead of game cards that actually needed to be purchased with real money. Along those same lines, they still did physical tickets and with those tickets, prizes or entrance to laser tag, guitar hero, or Dance Dance Revolution were available. 

 

Not to mention, their furnishing. The carpets were swirls of blues, purples, and oranges with neon signs littering the walls (all of which had to either be donated or found in dumpsters if a few beer and weed signs said anything), the smell of food and sweat filled Peter’s senses and he quickly tried to ignore it.  

 

The two immediately bought twenty tokens and went to the basketball game. Gwen looked at him with a sultry smirk and held her basketball at ready. “Boutta win you that panda you’ve always wanted, baby girl.” 

 

Not once have I wanted a panda. 

 

She missed the net. 

 

Peter burst out laughing while Gwen groaned loudly, her playful nature immediately overtaken by her competitiveness and she glared at the net, swearing she’ll make the next basket. 

 

She didn’t. 

 

“I don’t even wanna play this game anymore.” She grumbled, slowly walking away.

 

“You still have three more shots.” Peter laughed. He took her by the shoulders and planted her in front of the game again and grabbed a basketball. “Come on, baby girl.” 

 

“Oh, my god. Don’t ever call me that again.” She mumbled, a blush creeping on her cheeks but she didn’t back down from the challenge. She threw the ball and it went in, as did the last two shots. “Yay! I won!” 

 

“Three out of five is good.” Peter clapped. The two wandered around games for a while before they had enough tickets for a game of laser tag. They were placed on the same team, the two fist bumped and got their gear on, they were prepared to take everyone on the opposing team down with no mercy. 

 

Then they saw the said opposing team. 

 

Elementary schoolers with two parents. 

 

“Ooh…” Gwen whispered, looking at their teammates and Peter looked in the same direction. Kids and a parent. He looked at Gwen just as she looked at him, the two silent for a moment. “Well,” Gwen clicked her tongue. “I still ain’t going easy.” 

 

“Gwen,” he laughed. 

 

“What?” She shrugged. “It’ll build their character when they lose.” 

 

Then the game began. Neon filled Peter’s eyesight and so did the fog machine which was a little bit of an overkill. He and Gwen found their hiding spots, she was crouched under a low rising wall while his back was straight against a glowing pirate ship. 

 

“Welcome to Pirates Cove Laser Tag,” a robotic voice said. “Please ensure that your shoelaces are tied and keep an eye on the floor as there may be some random objects scattered around. There will be no kicking, punching, pulling, or pushing. If there is, you will be asked to exit the arena.” 

 

Arena? Peter quietly snorted. Such a funny word for laser tag. 

 

“If at any point you need to leave, please see to the exit door that’s placed on both sides of the arena.” A count down began. “Enjoy your time in Pirates Cove Laser Tag.” 

 

Immediately, he and Gwen took off and he couldn’t help but laugh at Gwen’s competitive nature when she kept shooting at the kids vests, who ended up crying after a bit when she kept finding them to which a parent would glare at her. 

 

“I don’t know why they’re so upset with me,” Gwen said when they gathered behind a neon wall with painted kelp. “It’s literally just a game.” 

 

“Gwen, you literally jump out of nowhere and shoot them.” It really is funny, especially the way that not even Peter senses her attacks on the opposing team. 

 

“Kids just need to toughen up.” She shrugs before running away from him and he stays put, listening. Just to see if she’ll find another kid to get out of the game for a minute. 

 

Sure enough, “Boo!” 

 

Kid starts crying as the music switches momentarily to signify a vest has been shot, and Gwen laughs triumphantly before he hears her run away. He can’t help his own laugh, shaking his head. “Jesus, Gweny.” 

 

He takes off in the opposite direction, trying hard not to show off his skillset in a civil game of laser tag, but it’s a little hard not to when a (even fake) gun is pointed at him. Multiple times, he’s heard kids groan in frustration because they just can’t seem to hit him. 

 

But soon enough, the game ended and everyone had to return their vests and laser guns and Gwen practically skipped out of the little room, her excitement for winning very clear to anyone who sees her. 

 

“I haven’t played laser tag in forever.” She smiled, her bangs plastered to her forehead with the bit of sweat she accumulated while playing. “I think the last time was the end of middle school.” 

 

“Really?” He asked, immediately swiping her hand in his. He’s only gone once, and that was the one time he and Ned were here. “You went with Maya, Camile, and Lexi?”

 

“Yeah.” She smiled and Peter was glad to see that there was not an ounce of sadness in her blue eyes. “I may have gone a little overboard then as I did now, but it was fun.” 

 

He squeezed her hand and suggested a game or two of Dance Dance Revolution. Gwen practically pulled him over to the platforms which were connected to a big screen TV that was mounted to the wall where a worker was stationed. 

 

Gwen picked first song at random and CASCADA started to play, and Gwen practically screamed. “Oh! I haven’t heard this song in forever!” 

 

“I have no idea what song this is.” Peter said, planting his foot on each arrow as the dance started, it was going slowly for now but Peter’s nervous that he’s going to get tripped up by this thing (he’s seen videos where the players practically have to go the speed of light to keep up with one game). 

 

“You do.” Gwen insisted. “Everyone knows this song.” When he stayed quiet, she continued. “Everytime We Touch? Come on, Pete.” 

 

“Maybe I’ll remember?” He shrugged and sure enough, the dance got faster and while he was able to keep up, it was certainly awkward. Gwen, though, looked like she was having a grand, easy time. It wasn’t until the chorus hit did Peter finally recognize the song. “Oh!” 

 

“Now ya got it!” Gwen clapped while her feet did all the movement, and when he looked at their scores, he was falling behind. Gwen was hitting each arrow, never missing one. Peter, on the other hand, was having tiny trouble. 

 

In his defense, he’s never really played Dance Dance Revolution. It’s kind of hard when he doesn’t aim his foot correctly and only half of it’s on the arrow (which, to the game, means he sucks and should leave), but put him in Just Dance and he’ll mop the floor with whoever he plays with. 

 

Eventually, the dance comes to an end and the two walk away from the platforms and TV, joining back into the throngs of the other enjoyers of Wild Card. “Do you want to play another ga—oh, maybe not.” 

 

“Hm?” Gwen hummed and turned around to look at him as he looked at his phone. “The time?” 

 

“Yeah, we got thirty minutes to get you back.” He said, pocketing his phone. It’s a ten minute car ride, and even so late at night, traffic can just be terrible. So, the two gathered their tickets and went to the toy counter and Gwen asked if she could pick out his prize. “Only if I can pick out yours.” 

 

“Okay, okay.” She smiled, looking at the wall behind the worker. “Can I get that Spider-Man watch, please?” 

 

Peter tried to suppress his knowing grin while Gwen blinked innocently at him. She really just did that! He laughed with her when she put it on his wrist and set the time, smiling cheekily at him while he stared down at her. “Can I get that pink penguin?” He asked the worker without looking away from Gwen, blinding grabbing the stuffed animal. “Thanks, man.” 

 

“Have a good night.” The minimum wage worker grumbled as he leaned against the counter, looking dead out of his mind. 

 

The two walked out of the arcade, hand in hand, and Peter breathed in the fresh air. He got used to the musty, smoky environment of the fun palace but it could never beat New York’s fresh(ish) air. 

 

“You really had to get me this watch.” Peter chuckled and Gwen cackled again. “This is so tacky of me.” 

 

“Represent yourself.” She said, lifting the hand up that had the watch on his wrist. “Besides, it’s a cool watch!” 

 

He supposes so. He looked at the picture of himself, it was a close up of him in midair, his knees drawn up to his chest while one arm was behind him while the other was reaching out to shoot a web straight at the would-be camera. “Looks AI generated.”

 

“Probably is.” She gave his hand one last squeeze before going to the passenger's side of his car.

 

Peter only shrugged and let his sleeve fall over the watch as he opened his car door. As he sat, he felt the familiar weight of a small box in his pocket and while he turned the car on to let it warm up, he had no intention of driving yet. 

 

Gwen was turned in her seat to face the back, situating the huge penguin animal to make sure it won’t fly to the floor once Peter starts driving. He watched as she brushed her hair behind her ears and her earrings dangled as she moved and he realized that he may only see her out on the bracelet and necklace (which was totally okay with him, he didn’t expect her to remove her earrings for him). 

 

“There,” Gwen said, sitting properly in her seat. “All set.” But Peter didn’t move and she looked at him with a head tilt. “You okay?” 

 

“Yeah,” he smiled and that seemed to ease Gwen a little as she turned her body a bit towards him. “I’m okay. I do have one more thing for you.” 

 

With that, he took out the satin box and Gwen’s eyes widened a little bit. “Peter—”

 

“Happy birthday, Gweny.” He pushed the box a little further towards Gwen and she gently took it from his hands, her fingers brushing along the fabric and she pulled the ribbon with such care, Peter almost would’ve believed it was the most rare, expensive ribbon available. 

 

She handed the ribbon over to him and he held it for her, watching intently as she opened the box and her eyes widened even more and her mouth fell open an inch. She looked back up at him then back at the gift. “Peter, this is—”

 

“Meant for you?” He nodded when she looked at him again. “I saw it a few weeks ago and I couldn’t get your image out of my head, wearing them. I thought of how beautiful you’d look.” He was quiet for a second before continuing. “You also said you’d like to wear more personal things when performing and I thought it could match with a lot of your costumes.” 

 

“I told you that once back in August,” Gwen’s voice was quiet but held with an emotion Peter couldn’t quite identify. “Before I invited you over for dinner.” 

 

Peter nodded, still smiling brightly. “Yeah.” 

 

“It’s December.” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“You remembered after all these months?” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

Gwen’s lip suddenly turned into a pout and her eyes looked glassy. The blonde looked like she desperately wanted to cry but wouldn’t and Peter’s smile fell into a frown of worry. “This is so beautiful.” She squeaked. 

 

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hands in the air like they had a mind of their own and not sure if they should grab Gwen or not. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“Nothing, nothing.” Her voice was strained with emotion. “This is so thoughtful, Peter.” She sniffed and brought her free hand to caress his cheek, her smile was downturned but her eyes sparkled. “Help me put the necklace on.” 

 

She handed him the box and he grabbed the jewelry and unclasped it. She turned in her seat again to face the window and held her hair up. He swallowed and for some reason, this made his heart speed up. This seems… intimate, he’s never put a necklace on a girl before. 

 

Then again, he’s never made out with one either, and yet, here he is, suddenly sweaty and nervous about a necklace. He slowly brought it around her and held it to her neck, mindful to not pull the necklace while he clasped it. He gently put it down and Gwen dropped her hair, her hand touching the necklace pendant to make sure it didn’t disappear in her neckline. 

 

She turned to face him again and held out her hand. He got the jist and took the bracelet out of the box and slid onto her wrist, its diamonds twinkling in the radios lights and almost in sync with her necklace. 

 

Then without any hesitation, her hands flew up to her ears and took out the first set of studs. “Oh, Gwen, you don’t have to—”

 

“I won’t put on the necklace and bracelet and leave the earrings out.” She smiled, putting her old earrings in the box as she pulled out the new pair. 

 

With her new jewelry on her, it took his breath away. He had no idea just how enticing a woman can be by just wearing diamonds. They gleamed as much as they could in the low lighting and with how close he was to her, they brought out her eyes. 

 

“You like them?” He asked dumbly. 

 

“I love them.” She smiled, bringing her face closer to his. “Thank you, Peter. For taking me here, for the present, for everything.” 

 

Then her lips were on his and his eyes fell shut without a second of hesitation. He sighed, their kiss slow and deep and it was perfect. He could taste her lipgloss and he felt her tongue brush against his, causing him to jolt a little at the sensation. 

 

Gwen broke away from him quickly, looking at him with wide eyes but he just blinked slowly, her mouth still agape. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” 

 

“No.” He breathed before he grabbed the back of her head and brought her to him again, his tongue diving into her mouth without a second thought. Gwen made a noise between a squeak and a moan and he was brought back to that night in the dressing room where he made her emit amazing sounds. He felt a fire roll down his belly and down into his hips and he took his free hand and gripped Gwen’s upper arm, tugging as close as she could go with the center counsel in the way. 

 

She squeaked for sure this time, but she didn’t stop twirling her tongue with his. He wanted—no, needed her to be closer, but this wouldn’t do. 

 

He leaned away from her, their lips making a pop noise and she looked at him with a slightly dazed expression, which only made the fire grow a bit stronger. Her plump lips were coated in saliva and her cheeks were pink, her hair was a little frazzled from where he grabbed her and she’s never looked more beautiful. 

 

“W—” She tried to catch her breath. “What?” 

 

He opened his mouth but the words weren’t there, it was like they decided to hit their brakes and at the worst time. He licked his lips and swallowed, his grip on her arm loosening a tad. What? He wanted her to sit on his lap, straddle him with her back against the wheel. What? He wanted them to move their hips together like a dance where both of them found pleasure. What? He wanted to take her, here, in the car. One last present for her birthday where they’d think about it for days afterwards until they inevitably do it again and in someplace unideal. 

 

But he couldn't say those things nor do them. He wasn’t sure if they should take that step yet, probably not for a while. It would feel… rushed. Sure, they’ve made out once—well, twice now. But what else do they have? He wants the first time to be special and someplace safe, a place where he and Gwen wouldn’t have to worry about being seen. 

 

So instead, he brought his free hand to her lips and used his thumb to wipe the extra drool. 

 

“As much as I would love to do more with you,” he began. “I don’t want it to be here. I want you to be someplace of your choosing. I want it to be special.” He dropped his hand but smiled reassurably, hoping Gwen wouldn’t take this the wrong way. “We should get you home.” He said, and she blinked as if her trance was broken. She nodded and leaned back to sit up straight in her seat as Peter turned the radio up a bit and they started to drive away. 

 

It wasn’t long before they pulled up outside of Gwen’s house and she made no move to get out of the car so neither did Peter. He stared at her while she looked at the house, her body language stiff. 

 

“Gweny,” he tried. “You okay?” 

 

She nodded but still didn’t look his way. Panic shot through his heart and he thought for a split second that the blonde must’ve taken what he said the wrong way. She finally looked at him and his heart still pounded, and maybe his face gave way to how he was feeling because Gwen snickered. 

 

“I was just thinking of what you said.” She said, “And you’re right. Doing it in a car is hot, but I wouldn’t want that for our first.” 

 

He blinked, not expecting her to say that little tidbit. 

 

“And besides,” she smirked, planting her hand on his shoulder and tugging him to her, their faces inches apart. “I’ve only discovered a little bit of what makes you tick. Can’t have the main meal before the appetizers.” With that, she kissed him more passionately than she ever has before, and they kept eye contact through it all. She gently bit his bottom lip before hopping out of the car and making it into her house before Peter could even process what she had said to him. 

 

What makes me tick? 

 

Peter’s certain that “not for a while” is going to be “sooner than later”.

Notes:

Okkkk so, Morgan’s almost here! Peter and Gwen had another ~moment~ and were slowly but surely moving this story along!!❤️❤️
I’m going to try to post longer chapters so there’s LESS chapters to read (cause I get how even if a story’s amazing, a too long one kinda ruins the vibe)
I HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS!! LOVE YALL❤️❤️

Chapter 29

Notes:

This is a SORRY EXCUSE FOR A CHAPTER

Weeks have passed and suddenly, it was New Year’s Eve, the official last day of 2018. Almost every one of their friends were at Gwen’s house seeing as her grandma was celebrating with her own friends out of town. 

 

It was a small gathering, one with no alcohol (her grandma would totally notice if they drank her expensive stuff) or substances of any kind (again, her grandma would notice and even then, Gwen is a good person who knows better than to even suggest bringing that stuff into her grandma’s home. Thank you very much!). They all sat in the living room on the first floor, the smell of freshly baked sugar cookies wafted in from the kitchen and it mixed deliciously with a candle that was lit on a nearby table. Gwen sat on her couch with Peter to her right and Harry to her left while Charles was addressing the small group, sitting closely with Cindy. 

 

Gwen watched as Charles pretty much melted into the girl and oh, was she going to have fun mentioning that to Cindy later. But for now, she enjoyed the feeling of leaning into Peter while his arm was wrapped around her shoulders. She was quite cozy, he was a very comfortable pillow and her pink sweater definitely added to the effect. 

 

“I’m just saying,” Charles yelled to be heard over the laughter of his previous statement. “That if there was a battle of the Ryan’s, Gosling would annihilate Reynolds.” 

 

“What about Seacrest?” Abe laughed. 

 

Charles' face immediately morphed into confusion. “Ain’t he dead?”

 

“No,” Gwen giggled. “No, he’s not dead.” 

 

“Are you sure? Didn’t he drown?” 

 

“Dude, are you thinking of Celebrities Underwater?” Peter asked, his smile large and his laughter barely contained. It made Gwen’s upper body jerk slightly as he moved under her.

 

“Yeah!” Charles pointed at Peter. “Yes, that’s where he drowned!”

 

“Bro’s thinking of iCarly.” Harry burst out cackling and the others followed while Charles remained confused and squawking. 

 

“Have you just not checked up on that?” Cindy asked from beside the boy, hiding her smile behind her hand. 

 

“No, Cin-dy, I didn’t check up on that.” Charles said with a huff, leaning back against the couch and his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

 

“I have no idea who is still around either though,” Abe began, coming to his friend's rescue. “I mean, since The Snap.” 

 

“John Mulaney and Nick Kroll are still kicking and I’m thrilled. I think I’d lose myself if they were gone.” Charles shrugged, nudging Cindy’s shoulder. “Too bad Taylor Swift got Dusted.” 

 

“Okay, why did you say that with such sarcasm?” Sally said from the floor. Gwen often found the girl sitting on the floor in many classrooms and Peter mentions how she does it during decathlon. 

 

Honestly, Gwen gets it.

 

“Who says?” 

 

“Uh, we all heard it.” Cindy’s vein started to pop out of her forehead as she sat up defensively. Gwen and Peter shared a look while Harry just looked like a gecko (she’s not sure how he managed to pull that off) towards the others. “Don’t diss on Taylor. She flies high with the eagles.” 

 

“Ignoring that eagle comment, I just don’t think her music is—”

 

“We’re gonna stop you right there before we get violent.” Sally said and Cindy looked at her with a look that declared their unity on the popstar. Gwen honestly can say that Taylor Swift’s music is okay to her. She likes some songs, she dislikes some others.

 

“My god,” Abe said, shaking his head and looking at the ceiling like it wasn’t there. “That was tense.” 

 

“Yeah,” Charles drawled out, deliberately making a scene of inching away from Cindy. He then looked at Harry. “Scootch over, dude.” 

 

Harry didn’t even have time to react before Charles launched himself at the open spot besides the red head, and Cindy took advantage of her new room on the couch, stretching out like a starfish. 

 

“Not that that wasn’t exciting,” Peter said, exhaling as he did. “Gwen mentioned earlier that she has Mario Kart, do you guys want to play?” 

 

“Yes!” Abe cheered, raising his hands in the air. He looked over at the TV in front of them and looked at the stand holding the device and Gwen watched him try to find the console but all that was shown was books and small picture frames, the occasional trinket and a vase of fake flowers. He looked back at Peter with an expression that screamed betrayal. “You liar.” 

 

“I didn’t say where it was, Abe. God.” Peter said in a playful voice, smiling as he made the move to get up. Gwen followed him up to her feet and Harry was the third one to pop up. 

 

“There’s a small living room upstairs.” Gwen pointed upwards with a lazy hand and soon, everyone was walking up the stairs to the second floor. Just like the floor below, the second story had brick accented walls that lined the hallway, a calming green was painted on the plaster. It was relatively smaller up here than it was down stairs, the living room on this story only had a hanging chair from the ceiling and a couch that was a little bit longer than a loveseat but didn’t quite reach three cushions. 

 

A big TV hung on the wall and below it stood a small but long table that housed both video and board games, an Xbox and PS4 were both in their respective places (the PS4 was Nate’s but Gwen couldn’t part with it). 

 

Then, closest to her room stood a ping pong table, one that apparently her grandma has had for years. “Ellie and Addie would spend hours playing, using this to win bets or settle arguments.” Daphne told her that the first night Gwen lived with her. “Even when I started to see the girls less and less, I knew that maybe they’d come back, see this, and just want to stay for a while.” 

 

Gwen cried that night. 

 

But now, she laughed as the boys practically surrounded the table like it was something sacred, something that would definitely curse them if touched. 

 

“It’s chilly up here.” Cindy said, hugging herself. Her thick sweater apparently wasn’t good quality. “Which, by the way, makes no sense.” 

 

“It does if it’s not properly insulated.” Sally spoke from behind, crouching in front of the board games. 

 

“Pretty sure it is.” Gwen knew first hand how chilly the upstairs can get, but she knows her grandma would never stay in a place with no proper insulation. That woman practically turns to ice when she’s cold. “I do have card games in my room, too, if you guys want to play.” 

 

“Oh, yeah, is that your room?” Sally asked, pointing to the door by the ping pong table. Cindy and Peter were the only ones to be in her room, and Cindy more often than Peter. Everyone else, though, hasn't. 

 

“Yeah,” she nodded, trying not to feel awkward when everyone’s eyes followed her as she went over to her door. Pushing it open, she heard Sally make a noise of wonder. 

 

She didn’t have the master bedroom, that was her grandma. But her room was still pretty spacious. Walking straight ahead, she opened her tall dresser and looked for two decks of playing cards. While she did, Sally stood besides her to look at the big, black painted letters that were written on her dresser. 

 

Gwen can admit that her “aesthetic” is, from how many people before have described it, a pastel, soft punk. Her wardrobe is a clear indicator of such and her room just amplified it. 

 

Sally’s hand traced along the words, a sentence Maya had actually painted. “PUNKS NOT DEAD” was slapped on the side of the dresser and some of the wording curved onto the front. “DESTRUCTION” was another and song lyrics below were painted. 

 

And it all contrasted the pretty pink of the dresser. 

 

“Did you do this?” Sally asked, and Gwen shut a drawer, finally holding the two decks. 

 

“Yeah,” she smiled fondly, looking at the words and good memories sprouted. She and Maya painted the dresser back when they were thirteen, back when Gwen (as her brothers put it) was fully “emo”. 

 

Whatever. 

 

“My friend and I did.” She continued. “We were bored and my room needed something so we took out some paint and did this.” 

 

“Looks hella cool.” Charles said from behind and when she and Sally turned, he and Abe were looking at her posters and wall decor while Sally sat at her keyboard that was in the corner, lightly tracing the stickers and pressing in the keys; music playing. “You never use your main light, do you?” 

 

“I’d rather die.” She said without a second thought. The only lights she really uses are her lamps, nightlights, or fairy lights. The main light was a last resort in case things got serious. Like a lost earring or necklace. She moved to sit beside Peter who was laying on her bed, completely sprawled out. 

 

“Is this for your ballet?” Harry asked, touching her floor barre. She nodded and watched as the others observed her room, glad that no one was looking into her drawers or boxes. She really never had a problem with people being in her room and looking around, it truthfully made her feel happy that her room was interesting enough for people to look through.

 

After a moment, Cindy was the one to clap and shoot up from the keyboard bench. “Alright, everyone!” She said loudly. “Let’s go back out and start playing games.” 

 

One by one, everyone started to walk out and only Gwen, Peter, and Cindy remained. The raven haired girl walked over to Gwen and held her hand out, to which Gwen plopped both decks into Cindy’s awaiting hand. 

 

The girl then left and Gwen and Peter were alone, though anyone could look in and see them slightly. She looked down at him as he looked up at her, and the two remained quiet. It was peaceful. 

 

She couldn’t believe how much had changed, not only since The Snap, but since she first met Peter. Only in July did they officially meet, though she remembers the first time she saw him. She was dancing in the studio when she saw Peter and Natasha enter and watch through the window. She didn’t falter, used to having eyes on her while she danced. 

 

But then they became friends really fast, faster than she’s ever made a friend. Then came the feelings and the crush, the silent discovery that Peter was Spider-Man, the fight and the near death experience and now, here they were. 

 

Boyfriend and girlfriend. 

 

Was it too fast? If she asked herself from months ago, the answer probably (most definitely) would’ve been yes. 

 

It never felt fast with him. 

 

And then he mentioned having their first time, and she’d be a liar if she said she never thought about that kind of stuff with him. But she never wanted to talk about it, especially so soon. But then he went and did it for her and she can’t stop thinking about it. 

 

Would it be weird? Sweet? Fun? Bad? 

 

Would she be on top or him? They’d warm up to it, right? What does he like? What does he hate? Has he ever thought about it? 

 

The overall thought of… doing it with him made Gwen subconsciously rub her thighs together and his hand was suddenly on her leg. 

 

She stopped moving and his hand was gentle, his thumb merely rubbing her thigh through her pants. This wasn’t supposed to be a gesture of anything but innocence, and Gwen smiled small, matching his. 

 

She leaned down to give him a chaste kiss before jumping to her feet and grabbed his wrist, tugging on the limb to get him up. “Come on, Pete.” She said. “We gotta go play the game with them.” 

 

“Your bed is too comfy, though.” He groaned tiredly, shutting his eyes. 

 

“Well, you can sleep over then and have the bed all you’d like.” She said jokingly but Peter’s eyes met hers again and that’s when she realized the implication of what she just said. “Like, just for sleeping… nothing else. If you want, cause you totally don’t have to.” Her mouth felt dry. “Oh, and you have a curfew! I know your mom wants you home.”

 

Peter’s smile started off small and teasing. “This is a group sleepover, is it not?” 

 

She blinked and realized that she forgot to tell Peter the most important thing. Cindy won’t be sleeping over because she lives next door, Sally has a late family Christmas party to get to tomorrow morning, and the boy's parents just said no. 

 

Peter would be the only one staying. 

 

“Not anymore.” She whispered, gnawing on her bottom lip. “They, uh, aren’t sleeping over.” She watched as Peter blinked owlishly and she sat back down on the edge of her bed as he sat up a bit. “I mean, Cindy lives next door so she just said she’d walk home, Sally has a thing tomorrow morning and the boys just aren’t able to.” She tapped her fingers together and she whispered even quieter. “I’m pretty sure I saw Harry’s driver parked in the alleyway behind the house.” 

 

Peter’s eyes subtly shift behind her to look out one of her windows and with the way his eyes widened a tad, she knew he saw the car. 

 

“That’s a little creepy.” He muttered and Gwen nodded. She watched as his face relaxed a bit, his eyes warm and she didn’t even realize how she was slowly leaning towards him. “But if you’re okay with me staying, I’m okay with staying.” 

 

She smiled, her shoulders fell and she nodded. This will definitely be weird, but it’s not like anything will happen! They’ll be too tired to do anything but sleep! Peter was literally almost about to doze off and it’s not even 9:30 yet! 

 

“Hey, lovebirds.” Harry called from the living room and she heard his footsteps grow closer till he was leaning into the room. “We gonna play some rock ass games or what?” 

 

For the next few hours, games were played, at the ping pong table, on the game counsels, and with the decks of cards. It was nice, Gwen’s cheeks hurt after an hour of constant smiling and laughing but then it came time for the ball to drop and welcome 2019. Gwen shut the main light off but kept the lamps and fairy string lights on, a cozy atmosphere. 

 

She sat close to Peter on the couch, Harry was idly swinging in the hanging chair, and everyone else was surrounding the coffee table, and the good, fun energy around them turned into something calm. She’d be celebrating the new year without her family and friends, Peter without his friends and Aunt May and… whoever Tony Stark was to him. 

 

Abe without his younger sister, Charles without his mother and brother. Cindy without her parents and Sally without her siblings. 

 

Harry without anyone. 

 

Gwen’s heart sank as she once again remembered all that Harry lost and it wasn’t even because of The Snap. She didn’t like him in the beginning, but now there was something like fondness whenever she thought of him; a friendship between the two. 

 

She felt Peter’s arm around her tighten and she looked back at him and smiled, to which he returned it. This was sad but at least they all found each other. 

 

The ball began to drop and even though the people in Times Square were yelling and smiling, jumping around and cheering, everyone in her grandma's upstairs living room was silent, watching the countdown. 

 

Once that ball dropped and it flashed 2019 on the big screens, everyone in Times Square yelled, “Happy New Year!” And confetti rained from the sky, and the hosts started to laugh and dance with the music that they played.

 

No one said anything or moved until Gwen took the remote from the coffee table and shut the TV off. She smiled at everyone in the room, and tossed the TV remote back on the table. It now felt like a somber environment but Gwen tried to rise above that with a (hopefully) bright smile. “Happy New Year, everyone. Does anyone want to play Twister?” 

 

---

 

Gwen sat at her vanity as she wiped her makeup away. It was quiet in the house, almost like no one was in it. She hummed a soft tune as she grabbed a new cotton pad and dabbed some liquid cleanser on it, rubbing it over her eyelids. 

 

She heard the door at the end of the hall open and she couldn’t even count the amount of steps Peter had to take before he entered her room, shutting the door behind him. He was certainly light on his feet. He was dressed in a black shirt with Iron Man pajama pants. She smirked up at him through her mirror, tossing the cotton pad away. 

 

“What?” He asked, smiling a little. 

 

“I like your pants.” She teased and laughed when he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Very fashionable.” 

 

“Har har, laugh all you like, they’re comfortable.” He came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. “Speaking of comfort, are you ready?” 

 

She nodded and started to put her things back in order, her cleanser and cotton pads went back with the lotion and q-tips and she stood up from the chair to face Peter. She looked up at him and realized, again, how much taller he is compared to her. She then kneeled on the chair so she was a little more level with him and gave him a quick kiss, brushing his hair away from his eyes. 

 

She looked at him like he was something new, feeling the rough skin of his cheekbone under her thumb, the purple hues under his eyes bringing out the color of his skin, his eyelashes were still too long for Gwen not to be jealous about but she loved seeing them and just knowing how soft they’d feel. 

 

Her other hand went around his shoulder and felt the hard lines of his back beneath her touch. He just stood there and let her do what she wanted, and all she could think about was how and why did he pick her. 

 

Before discovering he was Spider-Man, she never gave the hero much thought into what his personal life could be. Camile and Lexi often gushed about him, how old he could be and what his name was, what he looked like or did in his free time. Maya was always so busy and often didn’t pay attention to those conversations. 

 

Camile and Lexi would lose their minds if they knew the truth now. 

 

Knew that Spider-Man was a seventeen year old junior at a genius school, that he was obsessed with all science, that he was handy with tools and ideas, that he loved to skateboard and was one of the sweetest, smartest, hardworking, bravest, humblest person she’d ever known. Plus awkward, but she wasn’t going to mention that.

 

“Let’s get some sleep.” She whispered and dropped off the chair, side stepping Peter to throw herself on the bed. She never consciously takes sides, but whenever she had sleepovers with friends, she always slept away from the wall and more towards her night stand. 

 

So she got under the covers and patted the space next to her, and Peter jumped over her. She giggled as the bed bounced and he got under her lavender duvet and with a quick reach, she shut her lamp off and they plunged into darkness. 

 

Well, darkness is a strong term, it was dark but thanks to the city’s lights (even miles away), it illuminated her room enough where she could still see in detail her entire room. She had asked Peter if he’d like her to keep a light on, but he insistent that wouldn’t be necessary.

 

She and Peter faced each other, and her heart started to beat loudly, she could feel it punching her ribcage and she’s certain he could hear it like it was bass coming from headphones. 

 

She reached for his hands blindly and clenched them once she found them. His hands were so cold looking but always felt warm, she could still see his knuckles in the dark and they were pink. On the news, they reported that Spider-Man was out before her party and had to punch through steel doors to help out victims of recent kidnappings. 

 

She raised his hands to her lips and kissed every knuckle he had, his hands held a slight tremor to them, it was almost unnoticeable. She knows how badly it irritated him and she’s proud of the accomplishments he’s worked hard for. 

 

“How do you do it?” He said quietly, so quiet some of his words weren’t audible. 

 

She still held his hands as she looked at him. “Do what?”

 

“Pretend that what happened to you hasn’t bothered you.” 

 

She blinked, and immediately knew what he was talking about. The Final Attack (as dubbed by the media) took place November 15th, 2018 and it was the night she almost died. She fell almost nine hundred and thirty-seven feet before she was caught and she was insistent that she was fine, because she was! 

 

But she can’t lie to him, not now. 

 

“I’m fine…” she began, no longer meeting his eyes and sinking deeper into her bed. “I really am. I realize that what happened to me was bad. Really bad and maybe I should have nightmares and should have new fears but… I can sleep through the night, I’m not scared of heights, I don’t think about what happened and get upset.” She sighed. “I do get goosebumps when I think about that night, whenever his name is mentioned, but I… I’m fine.”

 

She looked up at him the moment she felt his fingers in her hair, brushing his hair behind her ear. “Okay.” 

 

She nibbled her bottom lip, suddenly feeling uncertain. “Maybe I didn’t explain it properly—”

 

“I think you did.” He interrupted, and she was glad he did. Otherwise she would’ve just rambled and ended up making things worse for herself (she thinks, anyways). “It just shows how resilient you are.” 

 

She blinked and reached towards him. He pulled her closer and she rested her ear against his heart and felt his chin on her head, their legs tangled and his arms wrapped around her in a way she’s never experienced. 

 

“This is nice.” She whispered in the dark and he hummed in agreement and she tried not to smile too big when she realized just how sleepy he was. Did he fall asleep pretty quickly? Did it take him a while? So she decided to ask. 

 

“It takes a while.” He said lowly and she felt the rumble against her head.

 

“You sure?” 

 

“Mmhmm…” he sighed and his arms tightened around her and when she poked him in the chest to get his attention, a soft snore was her response. She giggled lightly and snuggled deeper into him and when she closed her eyes, she hoped his sleep was peaceful. 

 

He deserves it.

 

---

 

Beth snuck in through the main door of the house and into the dark entryway, eager to sneak up on Walker. As far her nephew was concerned, she wasn’t able to get away from work and she wouldn’t be able to show up to the family New Year’s Eve party. 

 

She bit her lip as she took off her shoes, hearing her nephew laugh in the living room of her fathers home. She tiptoed over, her sock covered feet helped keep the footsteps silent and as she rounded the corner it was easier to hear all the commotion in the room. 

 

But then she heard a woman’s voice and her playful smirk fell. She stood up straight, and listened. Her father was talking to the woman, asking her questions about her job (what the heck?) and if she would like to move to this side of the city once the baby arrived.

 

Baby? What…?

 

She rounded the corner like she never stopped walking and launched herself at Walker to salvage her once perfect sneak attack tactic. 

 

“Aunt Beth!” Walker yelled as she ticked him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hoisting him off the ground, making him go upside down in her hold. 

 

“I got you!” She laughed obnoxiously but it always got a laugh out of Walker. “You can’t escape me!”

 

“Grandpa!” Walker giggled loudly, blindly reaching in the direction of the older man. “Help me!” 

 

“Help you? But I just got comfortable.” Her father said, smiling into his drink as he took a sip. 

 

“Ah, my gosh, dude!” Beth said, putting the six year old down. He’s gotten heavier! “You’ve gotten so tall! Pretty sure you were this short last I saw you.” She measured her hand at her knees and the six year old laughed. 

 

“No!” He laughed, running over to her brother who had his arm wrapped around a woman next to him. “I was never that short!” 

 

“You were, too.” She said childishly. “I remember when you were that small, you were just a little baby and I used to dress you up like a little doll.” 

 

Walker looked disgusted at being compared to a doll. She’s noted that he’s in that phase where he’s very much aware of the gender differences in toys and tries to do everything in his power to not be compared to any “girl toys”. 

 

She quickly moved the conversation along before Walker could get upset. She turned to her dad and spread her arms wide in an awaiting hug. The older man chuckled but got up off the couch and she leaned into his hug. 

 

It’s been hard for him since her mom got Dusted. She can always see a sadness in his kind eyes but she’s proud that he hasn’t lost himself. It would break her heart to see her father become a shell and nothing more. 

 

“Hey, Dad,” she smiled and she felt him kiss her temple before letting go of her. She kept her arm around his shoulders though, and popped a hip as she turned towards her brother and his new apparent girlfriend. Who is pregnant. “And hello to you two.” 

 

“Happy New Year’s Eve, Beth.” Josh said as he got up off the couch. “Sure surprised Walker.” 

 

“Yes, well, he’s not the only one who got a surprise.” She tried to sound at ease, but her teeth were unintentionally clenched as she spoke. 

 

“I actually planned to introduce you two today.” Josh beamed, walking back towards the couch and helped the woman up. “Nicole, this is my younger sister Bethany. Beth, this is my girlfriend.” 

 

“Hi,” Nicole smiled and offered her hand. Beth took it and gave her a nice shake. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

 

She glanced at her brother for a second before looking back at Nicole with a friendly smile. “Yeah, nice to meet you, too.” She then pointed between the two. “When did this happen?” 

 

“Oh, uh,” Josh and Nicole exchange a glance, both wearing embarrassed smiles. “Actually back in March.” Josh rubbed the back of his neck and she watched as he looked for Walker, practically reading his mind. Whatever happened, he didn't want the six year old to hear. “Do you remember that birthday party I went to for Clyde? And I asked you to babysit Walker?” 

 

She nodded. That was the night she and Walker had a game of hide and seek and she couldn’t find him for a while. “Yeah.”

 

“Well Nicole is friends with Clyde’s financé and I ended up throwing up on her shoes.” She blinked at her brother. “So…”

 

“A real night to remember, even drunk.” Nicole laughed behind her hand as she looked down at the ground. 

 

“Yeah, I bet.” Beth then hit Josh in the shoulder. “I hope you bought her a new pair of shoes.” 

 

“Oh, don’t worry, he did!” Nicole paused. “Only a month later.” 

 

“I got there.” Josh said in a weak attempt of defense and Beth only shook her head, rolling her eyes. Whoever Nicole is, her brother seems happy and that’s all that matters. 

 

Except for maybe one other thing. 

 

“You dick.” Beth hissed at Josh, hitting him in the shoulder again but with more force. “When were you going to tell me you were having another kid?” 

 

“…tonight as well.” He said. 

 

“You’re unbelievable.” She was getting either another nephew or a niece, this is big. She should’ve already been well aware of this. “How far along are you?” She asked Nicole, her fire at her brother not transferring over to the other woman. 

 

“Only four months.” Nicole answered, lightly touching the womb. “But we already know the gender and we’ve decided on a name.” 

 

“Really?” She gasped. “Can I know?” 

 

“It’s a girl,” Josh began and Beth’s eves got even wider. “And we picked Skylar Beth to be her name.” 

 

Beth’s pretty sure she died. It only makes sense because there’s no way she’s getting a niece who’s being named after her! She smiled wider and wider, her ire at her brother defused like a candle under water and she threw herself at the pair of them, not even caring that Nicole is still technically a stranger to her. 

 

“Oh, my god!” She squealed. “I’m getting a niece! You’re getting a daughter! Who is getting my name!” 

 

“Love the arrogance, Beth, keep it up.” Josh laughed and she felt him pat her back while Nicole recuperated the hug. 

 

“This is so exciting!” She jumped. She let go of the pair and glared at Josh. “But I’m still mad at you. How could you not tell me about Nicole and why keep the news of the baby a secret from me?” 

 

She remembers when Josh and Malory—his ex-wife—announced her pregnancy. Beth was nineteen, just a year into college and she found out before anyone else did! It was such… a great feeling, knowing her brother and Malory wanted her to know first. 

 

But when Malory passed away a few years ago, Beth was also the first person to hear about the cancer. She was the first one to know almost everything about Josh and his family. 

 

While she’s trying not to let this be personal, it still tastes bitter in her mouth. 

 

“That’s actually my fault,” Nicole said sheepishly. “There was a lot to process with not only the new relationship but also finding out I was pregnant so early on. I just needed to get my head wrapped around it before I even told my family.” 

 

Beth nodded, understanding where Nicole was coming from. She didn’t owe Beth anything! Josh on the other hand…

 

But she smiled and assured the woman that it was okay, and it made Beth feel somewhat of a hypocrite. How can she get mad at her brother for not telling her about his new relationship, when she hasn’t even told him about hers?

 

She and Steve have been seeing each other a lot ever since their first date back in November and she’s honestly never been happier. Her last boyfriend was a bit of a dud, Steve was a much better boyfriend than Mitch (last she knew, he was somewhere in New Jersey trying to give people “free tattoos” (he really went off the deep end when she broke up with him)) and while she wants nothing more than to bring him home to meet her father, brother, and nephew, she knows it’s a bit too early. 

 

He hasn’t even introduced her to his friends (family?) yet either, so he must be thinking the same thing. 

 

Eventually, it got to the time where they’d all sit around the table and chat while they snacked on cheese and crackers or slices of carrots while the New Years program played on the TV. 

 

While her father was speaking with Josh and Nicole, Walker at some point crawled on her lap and started to tell her all about his Christmas presents he had gotten while he grabbed a bunch of carrot slices. 

 

“So, Bethy,” her father said and she looked over at him with a smile. “I hear you’ve been out and ‘bout recently, too.” 

 

She blinked. “Huh?” 

 

“My buddy from the shop has a son that works at that club that does different decade themes.” He grumbled as he couldn’t recall the name. “Anyways, says he’s seen you there a few times.” 

 

She blinked again. “Well that’s weird. I hadn’t seen him at all.” 

 

“Are you seeing someone too?” Josh asked with a sly smile and she tried to keep her “I-have-no-idea-what-you-could-mean” composure. 

 

“I just go there from time to time, doesn’t have to mean anything.” She said, brushing Walker’s slightly long hair out of his eyes. “Josh, what is this? Neglecting your son’s hair is a serious issue.” 

 

“I’ll work on that.” He said dryly. He then looked at their father. “What else did he say?” 

 

“I didn’t take this family to be one of gossipers.” Beth said loudly, accidentally interrupting her father. She began to pet Walker’s head like he was an animal. “What’s everyone’s resolution for next year?” 

 

“I want to eat more pie!” Walker said. 

 

She beamed. “Inspiring! Anyone else?” 

 

“Said he’s seen her with a tall fella every time.” Her father contained, acting like Beth isn’t about to have a meltdown. She wasn’t! Yet, at least. “Said he even looks a little like Captain America.” 

 

“I love America, this country is one built on freedom and bravery. Speaking of which,” she leaned around Walker to rest her elbow on the table and prop her fist under her chin. “What do we wanna do for the Fourth of July? I’m thinking we go to a cabin? Rent a place for the weekend?”

 

“Bethany Francine Jacobson,” Josh said in a slow, teasing manner, turning his head towards her with each word and completely ignoring her indigent “shut up!”. “Are you dating Captain America?” 

 

Walker gasped, his facial expression matching Josh but with a slightly more comical scene. 

 

She bit her tongue and the eyes of her family (and Nicole) were burning into her. She sighed in defeat, using her hand that was holding up her head to cover her eyes. She whined like a teenager being told she can’t go see her friends for the weekend. “Dad!” 

 

“So it is true!” Josh smacked the table. “Holy shit—don’t say that word, Walker—how did that even happen?” 

 

“Uhm, well, I mean I met him back in 2012 during the invasion.” She started to explain, still not removing her hand from her eyes. “He came to the diner and I took his order. Gave him some coffee.” 

 

“Seriously?” Nicole spoke. 

 

“Mmhmm, yeah.” Beth nodded. “That was before it was announced to the public about his, uh, defrosting. But back in November, he went back to the diner and an old coworker of mine told him where I work now and he showed up and… yeah.” 

 

No one said anything and when she removed her hand, Josh, Nicole, and her father were staring at her and she’s never felt more like a zoo animal. They were waiting for something, a trick or movement of some kind. This is embarrassing. 

 

“And when can I meet this fella?” Her father asked and she really didn’t know when that could happen. She’d have to ask Steve and she’s not even sure if she’s comfortable doing that yet. It’s just been a little over a month since they started dating, can’t this wait a little bit longer? 

 

“I… will talk with him.” 

 

She couldn't say exactly what she was thinking, not until she and her father could speak privately. She finally let out a big breath when the attention was finally off of her but she still felt itchy knowing that every time she felt someone looking at her, it’s because they usually were and they’d quickly avert their eyes whenever she looked at them. Awesome. 

 

“Does he know you used to wear that big ugly headgear?”

 

“I’m getting wine.”

Notes:

Hope yall enjoyed it🥰