Chapter Text

Chapter 1- I’m a Webslinger

They don’t own a gun.

His Aunt was dead. A bullet hole in her head and a gun in her limp hand. Peter was smart, it only took two seconds to figure out what happened. He should be scared, terrified, or traumatized. But the only thing his frozen form can process is that:

Ben owned a gun...but May buried it with him...right?

…

Right?

The gun in May’s hand looked awfully like the one that Ben had kept in their dresser in the top drawer along with his cards and keys. The steely black that now had bloody limp fingers  curled around it, couldn’t hide the curve of the trigger. The scent of gunpowder and the tendril of smoke from the exit point of the gun.

Peter wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t scared that he wasn’t surprised. This happened all the time. Everyone goes away eventually. Everyone leaves him at some point. Get tired of him. This happened all the time.

It still didn’t stop the ache that he refused to acknowledge.

After a good hour of just staring into a void, trying to figure out how this changed his life and what he was going to do but kept drawing a blank when he looked at the body again, he called someone. Not the police, or his ex friends. No,  he called the director of SHIELD himself.

The teenager never called SHIELD, he was too busy and never had a right reason to call, he couldn’t imagine what it was like for a director of a secret society that manages the Avengers. He probably didn’t want to here about a common mugger or a math test or a guy in a wingsuit that was carrying  alien weapons ohmygodhesgonnakillyou!

And besides he didn’t like depending on Fury. On anybody really. It made it harder for him to let them go when they left.

He’s never had anyone to depend on in the past. Not really.

The phone picked up on the fifth ring and answered with a tired and irritated “You little shit.” Yeah that was about right.  Fury sounded like this was such an annoyance, which it probably was. But to be fair Peter hadn’t picked up Fury’s calls in months. It was always something or another and Peter never wanted to get Fury or SHIELD involved, even if they could help.  Nor did he want any part in his sneaky sneaky spying thing.

“I need you to pick me up.” he said and it was so deadpanned and even he didn’t know how he did it himself. How emotionless his voice was, when his head was so full of feelings and plans and just everything. It was giving him a headache.

“Why?” the older man asked, his tone didn’t change.

“My aunt committed suicide.” Peter said in the same tone and he could hear the tenseness from the other person and sighed.

“What am I supposed to do about it?” Fury growled out only missing a beat. Despite the situation Peter’s mouth quirked up for a second but went back down at the sight of the dead body of his aunt. It was just so rewarding when he got a rise out of the man. But there were people dead...but then again that was kinda normal so...

“And also the scent of the blood is making me sick and the sight is just… I feel weird… c-can you just-” Peter plowed on like Fury hadn’t spoken was growing quieter and quieter. So maybe feelings decided to visit his voice after all, he tried to choke it back. Fury wouldn’t do anything about that part, Peter had to figure out his own physiological mess of a mind he had. Fury wouldn’t give a shit if he was crying or not.

“Whatever.” And Peter nodded like it solved everything. But SHIELD would handle the body, Peter never like handling bodies. He wished that they could sweep this under the rug, they probably would officially.

He wished it did the same for mentally.

They didn’t own a gun.

OoOoO

1 year later...

“That’s it. It’s official. I hate explosions.”

Peter gritted through the comms, as he got out of the burning building with the last two kids he managed to get out, but not without burns to his sides. A flaming beam had  fell on him on the way in and he’d managed to avoid such incidents on the way out with the kids.

“Comes with the job.” Clint’s blunt gruff voice mentioned. There was no room for argument and Peter wanted to sigh. There was an unspoken ‘If you can’t handle it, then leave.’ And Peter wanted to scream like a kid, because he couldn’t just leave people to suffer. Not anymore. Especially now, That much was obvious, if the continuous explosions in the city were anything to go by. At least, They were wrapping up by the looks of it. He felt more dread sink into his stomach.

He was fighting with the Avengers against some more aliens, who apparently liked explosions. Very destructive explosions.

Well he wasn’t so much fighting with them then cleaning up after them right now. He was on ‘crowd control’ as he so called it- and Steve, sorry Captain Rogers, didn’t take likings to his names that he dubbed certain things, like Spidey sense (Wade said it sounded sexual and laughed, but to be fair Wade’s default mindset was to find the most sexual way to use every combination of words in the English Dictionary).

He was assigned to keep the citizens safe and get them out of buildings that were dangerous and into safer zones of the city. When ever Spiderman ‘fought’ with the Avengers, he was always assigned this position. But he didn’t mind. He always slept better not wondering: Hope that guy got out safe because the crazy octopus is going to blow up the building across the city and I didn’t have time to check!

He couldn’t say the same about the other Avengers, but he rather liked his job of crowd control. Put more ease on his anxiety- because being a paranoid person even before the super anxiety (spidey sense=precognition=no surprise birthdays) was probably the worst part of it. Even if the only reason why they made him do it was because they probably didn’t want that kid to get in the way, you know, avenging.

Even if he did have the least number of casualties and was the least destructive and went on patrol almost every night, and beat up bad guys on most of said nights. The Avengers didn’t do their job unless it was city-wide, world ending, hydra invading, aliens, etc., and that put Peter at ease a little, because  despite all the good they do their collateral damage is...well not the best.

He could hardly imagine the Hulk out on patrol. It would be hell for the cities construction crew and Damage Control, but at least it would keep criminals away. Or it might encourage them to make more dangerous weapons, it could go either way really.

If Peter were to really have it his way, he wouldn’t even be fighting with the Avengers period. Don’t get him wrong they’re awesome and amazing heros that save the city - the world - a million times, but the only reason he was even taking orders from them was because of SHIELD(which he really didn’t follow but whatever).

Besides he could never be like them.

Last year after the Goblin attack, Peter had been on his patrol when he was stopped by an agent from SHIELD - wasn’t he supposed to be dead or something, oh well weirder things have happened. He gave a proposition to be an agent, not the same as shipping him off to the army- but that time neither had control of the situation, ‘water under the bridge Phil’- but Peter had declined because he had an identity to keep, plus he gave him the choice to say no -‘see? we’re growing Phillip.’

Turns out they knew nothing about him either, not anymore at least,he’s changed...a lot. He underestimated at what lengths they’d go to get information they didn’t have. The real reason they were there, Peter knew, was because they saw Spiderman as a threat; and Peter Parker was a threat long before that too, just a different kind. So Peter made his own proposition(because he’s nothing if not fair and genuinely nice person): He’d allow SHIELD to monitor and check on his patrols with no interference, he’d even help them if they needed it - because Spiderman always helps - but in anything regards to Peter’s identity or his personal life is under wraps, and he does this on his terms - he’s allowed to say no. Under no circumstances - unless he says so - my his personal information be researched or revealed.

It was the first and last time he would ever formally and seriously -like seriously seriously- recommend something. At least for a while.

When May died, Fury and he had agreed that it wouldn’t do well for either of them for Spidey to go into the system- besides he had already graduated high school-, and in turn assigned him a ‘babysitter’ of sorts. Except that ‘babysitter’ happened to be a plural and the Avengers.

So it turns out he was a sort of member of the Avengers now. Which was cool, but all they knew was his name and age and that’s it. They didn’t know why he was on mission with them and they didn’t know anything about his past. That’s really all he gave Fury, and he was surprised that’s how much he actually wanted. Or at least, he was surprised he stopped there.

Peter never let his guard down once around him.

He didn’t hear from anyone til’ about a month later, a couple weeks after he’d officially graduated high school. He ended up fighting with the Avengers in Philly. He didn’t really follow orders all that well so he wasn’t assigned to the team as much as he would’ve been, if it had gone well.

After the first few times, he stopped giving reports altogether because they just sounded silly even to him coming out of his own mouth. He couldn’t tell Fury about the “big” stuff he did on patrols and when he wasn’t with SHIELD, cause he’d just send some agents, or worse the Avengers, to go interfere and that would make the situation worse. But to compensate, he always gave information if asked or if relevant.

Turns out they didn’t really care either, about his reports or him. They all had various reactions to him being assigned to the team - none he’d write home about. You know, if he had a home. Or someone to write to. Wade was right, that wasn’t a great analogy. They were all invalid, that’s the point.

He didn’t take well to orders. But not because he was a defiant teenager going against all adults- even if that’s his excuse or that’s what they thought, and he just let them believe that- it’s because he just didn’t agree with the methods used. He got the job done, in probably the most annoying wreckless way possible, but if it was less collateral or an extra child was saved, then it was worth the bad press. And hey, everything always worked out.

It’s probably what annoyed the Avengers the most.

Steve’s reaction was surprised at first. He was assuming it was because of how young he looked. But in the end, he just put on a professional face and accepted the assignment - not kidding that’s what they called him an assignment. He hasn’t been called anything like that since he was six. He ended up yelling at him after the first mission about fighting a monster or something without permission, which okay Captain America I’ll just let this ugly ass insect beat me into the ground while I await further orders. He didn’t actually say that but still.

He decided Cap’s opinion was invalid due to ineffeciancy.

And none of the other Avengers reactions were any better.

Tony took one look at him and scoffed saying something about the itsy bitsy spider is a bit too itsy bitsy for the job. He then proceeded to come up with the most insulting nicknames for him, made cracks about his age and body -I’m small because I’m a kid not health issues short stack- and Peter thought that was just rude. He did his job fine, even if he was a kid. It’s not like a robot cared if he was 15 or 50, it would beat him up just the same.

So Iron Man’s opinion was invalid due to logic.

Natasha had just looked at him and turned back to whatever she was doing. He almost caught this hurt in her eyes, but then realized this was Black Widow, she would never let her emotions slip around a rookie- especially one like him. He could never figure her out, but he could tell she was frustrated that she had to deal with him. She’d also lay into him whenever they did talk, But she really didn’t have to often because Cap seemed to be doing that just fine.

So Black Widow’s opinion was invalid due to ‘I don’t know what she’s really saying and she’s scary. Byyeeee~’.

Clint had a scowl and calculating look in his eye. It was almost haunted or horrified, and it put Peter on the edge most of out of all of them. But then he said that he would be good for stealth ops if he wasn’t so loud. But like he talked over the comms all the freaking time. So that was hypocritical. Plus he had kids so he was biased not to let him fight.

Hawkeye’s opinion was invalid due to bias.

Thor seemed quiet but distraught that he was there. A clear sign of distrust and disgust- or something similar. He had said that a child wouldn’t take their battles seriously, which okay Mr.Thor, but Peter didn’t take anything seriously. And considering most of his personal villains liked to dress up as mechanical animals and throw pumpkin bombs everywhere… well he just had a weird ass spectrum.

Thor’s opinion was invalid due Peter’s fucked up system.

Bruce immediately left the room.

So Bruce’s opinion was disqualified. Hulk was pending.

He really tried not be hurt by it, he honestly did. He got it, he wasn’t thrilled about this either. He’d rather see his childhood heros as something he could never achieve instead of trying to play on the same level. But he was thrown into this prematurely, like he was thrown into a bunch of other things that messed him up. This would’ve been no different, something to screw him over even more. But this time, the Avengers all had to deal with it, just like him.

They fix things, not screw things up.

Peter was promptly proven wrong.

He was a solo act after all - thank god he kept some of that in his contract deal thingy, he never actually signed anything so he wasn’t sure how this worked. Oral agreement? - he wasn’t good at being a team player, no matter how much he tried he couldn’t think of himself as one.

All he really had to do was listen to them on the field and that’s it, they wouldn’t be a big part of his life and they would dictate too much. Peter wasn’t stupid enough to believe he’d keep all his freedom- he never did- , but if he wanted to avoid conflict it was best to keep his head down and nod. After all they were on the same side, fighting for the same things. Why fight them when the real fight is out there.

How hard could it be?

If you keep fighting the people pulling the triggers, you’ll never get the guy aiming the gun.

And then he heard the orders, and saw a million different ways it could go wrong. And it did, but he didn’t follow the follow-up orders, because he already had a freaking plan in his head, that had too many moving parts for him to explain quickly, and people were dying now. So his goal changed to keeping his head down, to fixing the mistakes and making sure almost everyone comes out alive? Prettypleasedontdiemisterpersonsiritwouldbeappreciatedthankyou!

It annoyed the hell out of them, but he didn’t mean for it to.

He didn’t have to be best friends with them anyways, just cooperate. How hard could it be to be professional?

Apparently very hard when you’re a 15 year-old kid who graduated high school  and can’t afford college and have no friends cause they’re either in jail or died...or you just abandoned them cause you didn’t want to see them hurt or dead or gone. But now their gone cause you left them and...Peter didn’t like thinking about it much because, ugh feelings suck!  And it elicited too many feelings. So goodbye emotions he should probably deal with but isn’t going to~!

Peter didn’t even know he was looking for a friend or someone to trust, because May still didn’t know about Spiderman- and would never know ohgodshewasdead - and it was all so stressful right now and ugh emotions suck!

He had no one to talk to about it, and no one to report his injuries to or just be there- he used to have May but now he doesn’t causeshekilledherself. He still had those feelings bottled up because May only knew he lost his uncle - that he didn’t care much about anyway, but okay May you love him so I’ll try for you - and his lab partner and the Avengers don’t know - or care - who Gwen Stacy is and the media just knows Spiderman couldn’t save her. He doesn’t have his outlet in which he can vent to and it makes doing the things he does so hard sometimes.

He acknowledged that he needed someone to talk to, and hey, maybe the Avengers were up to it. He wouldn’t go all at once, he had to make sure he could trust them. So he cracked a few jokes over the comm, and got nothing but ‘stay focused’ and ‘stop acting like a kid’ or just groans and sighs. That was a major shut down, because Peter had mainly said jokes to his friends and they always said they were bad but it was never so harsh and it would make them happy anyways.

So since plan A-Y were shot, he just decided to give up and bottle things up like a real protagonist should- ...he missed Ned. No STOP! Feelings are not good! Not now! Wait til’ you’re alone to cry about it, people are dying and buildings are falling. No time for fucking feelings.

He grabbed a kid just as a beam was about to fall on him and landed him near his mother, who hugged the poor child viciously, and check him over and kissed his head repeatingly. Don’t look people are still dying! He thwiped away.

FRIDAY was a good friend to him, which was honestly sad considering she was a computer, AI thingy in Tony Stark’s walls. And he only got to talk to her when he was at the tower and that was only for debriefed.

When he’d first came back to the tower after getting stabbed and stuff on patrol - like more than usual - she’d ask him to inform Tony. He obviously declined immediately. The last thing he needed was for Tony or any of the other Avengers to have a real reason to think he couldn’t handle it cause then they’ll take it away, and at this point Spiderman was literally all he had left to do. It was just a light stabbing; nothing important and he wasn’t really an Avenger so... She then said it was protocall to inform Tony or Bruce if any of the Avengers were hurt, Peter told her to just lie because they didn’t need to know-and he could still walk so that was worth something, right?- but FRIDAY said it’d go against all her programing and that she couldn’t lie to Tony. So Peter decided to overwrite that and basically compromised - and somewhat outsmarted the AI: If any of the Avengers asked if he was hurt she’d tell them the truth, but if and only if they asked. This wasn’t only a way to avoid getting babied but also a way of testing the Avengers to see if they cared.

After all he wasn’t really an Avenger.

He tried not to be disappointed when FRIDAY never said to go to medical about his injuries again. But she did give advice, which was boarderline saying go to medical before you bleed out!

It was all good in the hood.

He intended to avoid the Avengers for personal things outside of missions, and they’d avoid him and for the better part of the year. Not That Peter minded, it worked out for all parties; Avengers aren’t annoyed and Peter gets more freedom than he originally thought. It got to the point where they only saw him after missions. He didn’t even report to Tony or Steve anymore because they slashed that BS immediately - Fury wasn’t surprised.

Nonetheless, when Fury found out- in a terrible act of anti heroism committed on Peters part (he let some bombs go off in a port yard on patrol) - he had yelled at Tony and Steve, as well as mentioning the other Avengers that they were doing a horrible job in keeping the kid in check. Which would’ve been fine, if Fury hadn’t mention all the reasons they were even keeping him in check. Because he was dangerous and a potential threat. He was too naive and childish, but he knew what was out there. Blood and death and abuse and suicide and molestation and rape and death and families being torn apart and human experimentation and death and death and death.

It all ended in death.

And Peter had taken offense to that, after all what did he ever do to them? You know beside be a pain in the ass. He didn’t think that he did anything to warrant that kind of treatment. Well, besides the bomb that killed close to a hundred people- but that was his fault! Or was it? It was his job to make sure they were safe and ohmygoditsyourfaultPeter!

But when he opened his mouth to voice such a complaint, Tony growled ‘Zip it. The adults are talking.’ and that shut his mouth and any ideas of the Avengers being his friends slashed into the ground.

It was all professional.

He went on missions and did as he was told - to an extent, the Avengers and Fury were not the boss of him and he wanted that to be very clear. Because for once in his life he actually got to choose what happened to him, even if the choices were shit. He didn’t have to answer to anyone. It didn’t dictate his life, but god damn if those condescending looks from his teammates didn’t make him insecure - more so than he already was - then he’d let Tony test his new repulser on him.

‘Okay. Good job team. Let’s go back to the tower.’ he heard Tony say and shot a web at the side of the building and swung back to the tower. He had to debrief and he’d go to Saint Margaret's to sleep on Weasel’s couch before opening hours.

That sounded amazing right now.

OoOoO

Mission debriefing was one of the most insufferable things he’s ever gone through.

And he’s been through a not war in Sudan with a raging knife half wolf mutant and his team of freaky powered people for 4 months. But to be fair the X-men were much more chill with Spidey than the Avengers were.  

Sit up Parker

You can’t be that tired

Don’t fall asleep

This wasn’t even concerning him or anything he had to do, he was just here out of courtesy. He didn’t need to be here and frankly he didn’t want to either. It was just Fury droning on about the mission success to the council -which he didn’t even get cause  it was straight forward- and they certainly didn’t approve of Peter’s methods of doing things. He’d rather not be glared at by giant disapproving adult heads thankyouverymuch. Sorry if it wasn’t his favorite pastime.

“So what of Parker’s behavior?” here they go again. Peter rolled his eyes, and got a condescending look from Rogers. Well he can just fuck off, because they will say the same thing again. So yeah...fuck off Captain.

“Pard-” Fury didn’t even have time to finish.

“Denied. You’ve made every excuse imaginable, I highly doubt you could find something feasible.” What did I even do? Much to his annoyance the Avengers perked up at this, like come on guys help a Spider out. Adults were just kids with more years on them, ugh.

“Why do you give so much slack. He did not follow any of the protocols SHIELD put in place. Why do you deny him any form of punishment?” Oh...this was new… he looked at Fury who starred one eye back exasperated. Was he not following some sort of important rules? Is he getting if in trouble? If they were important shouldn’t he know about it? Fury read my mind and answer me!

“That goes against the agreement and you know it.” Fury said in a monodrone like he’s been over this a million times before. He has, Peter could testify to that. But not in a way that exposed him like this to Peter. “It’s personal.”

“In discussion of this...agreement… is he not a teenager? Surly his abilities don’t scare you so much you should feel the need to constrain yourself and let him off with free passes.” What the hell. That was new. Were they finally tired of his same old bullshit? Probably.

Well, better step it up then.

“The order is-”

“Not relevant to the current mission. Bye asshats.” The call ended as Stark pressed a button. Oh ho, Ironman comes in for the save. What did he want? Regardless Peter breathed a silent sigh of relief. No more blue floating coward heads.

“Stark-”

“Those guys are bitches looking for a weapon they can scapegoat.” Tony’s eyes flickered over to Peter for a second and his breathe caught. Did he just call me a- oh HELL no! ” Nah, Fury I would like you to tell us why you spoil the kid without them breathing down your neck. What makes him so special?”

Years of mutation, human experimentation, enhancements, cross breeding, broken DNA and trauma. But you can take your pick Stark. Peter thought bitterly. But his origin story checks out to be that of either a superhero or supervillain, plus he’s got the protagonist emotional disorder, so he’s basically a comic book god. His plot armor was too thick for him to not die in one of the most dramatic heroic plot twisting ways possible.

Or he just would keep getting rebooted.

That would suck though.

(come on Marvel give me a break for like a good decade here, see if your franchise can thrive without me) (answer it can’t)

But he wasn’t gonna tell Fury- or anybody for that matter - that. The abridged version, ‘I got bit by a spider and now I’m strong, sticky and can heal.’ and therefore, his plot armor was stripped away...or was that just the protagonist emotional disorder? He’d have to ask Deadpool.

They had no idea about...everything else.

“He’s an asset...my personal asset-” Fury was cut off by Peter’s slow tired words.

“‘M nobody’s asset, n’ you know it Director.” Peter said formally respectful while having that hint of rash disregard.

“Then what are you?” Natasha said in a cold tone, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m not a weapon.”Peter answered with a nod but didn’t look at her directly. Instead looking at Stark with a glare. He returned it with a nonchalant look. I’m a kid! You said so assholes.

"You’re certainly not a soldier though.” Steve pointed out with a slight glare directed at Peter that screamed authority. “You don’t follow orders and don’t bother to show up to half the missions.” Peter shrunk in on himself self consciously, before shrugging again.

“I’m busy.” Just like you’ don’t bother to show up any of the time to half of the other ground breaking problems in this city. Like I don’t know, Taking care of giant rhinos and lizards and octo-pervs and checking Fury’s sources. Like dude, I can’t be on Avenger standby 24/7.“I have a life you know.” Ha! No you don’t. Not any more. You gave that up for plot armor. Oh yeah… oh well.

“Getting cats out of trees?” Sam remarked slyly with a smirk, Peter gave a bright smile back. They don’t expect such happy reactions to degrading comments, he loved it when they stumbled over their responses.

“Sure, let’s go with that.” he said and turned to leave. Smirking to himself with their fumbling words, in response to his form of defiance.

“Wait! What’s that supposed to mean?!” Sam finally asked indigently.

“It means this is the end of our conversation.” Peter said a little more gidy than he anticipated. He threw back a half smile and left.

Well this is gonna be interesting.

OoOoO

It was a sound, screwed up system.

Nick ordered missions and Peter took them.

If he wanted to.

And usually that wouldn’t fit well with the esteemed Director of SHIELD. But Parker was different from other heroes, hell he was different from other people.

He only listened when he wanted to. It really depended on his mood. Fury was getting annoyed with the kid’s behavior about it though.

He got cats out of trees and helped old ladies cross the street. He also kicked a lizard’s ass, a rhino’s ass, a mechanical octopus’s ass and a bunch of random space alien asses and fought shit that came out of the sky. Yet he wouldn’t do reconoscence unless he was bored. But he’d bust his ass making sure a kid didn’t get hit by a passing car. He wouldn’t do data, hacking missions to get information, unless he had a free weekend. Yet he’d be out til’ 3 in the morning in the soaking rain trying to keep a box of kittens dry.

He avoided the Avengers’ missions and when he couldn’t he was a little shit to them just cause he could be. Fury couldn’t blame him for that one though, on some level he was actually amused by it. But then he’d turn around and be painfully polite to the lady at the counter in the coffee shop. Like genuinely polite.

His MO was all over the place and it was frustrating.

What annoyed Fury more is that the kid was damn good at what he did - when he actually did it. Better than any agent he’s ever had. The agents who trained would get their asses kicked by him and Parker  knew it too.

He was smart and powerful and strong and way more cunning than he showed. He didn’t show off, he did what needed to be done with the least damage possible in the most efficient time. But he’d laugh and go along with all the insults that were saying he was basically a talentless stupid entitled shithead. Yeah he was all of one of those things; a shithead who could keep so many things about his personal life from the best super spy in the galaxy.

It was fucking terrifying.

Because he did a better job than most of the useless fucks he hired, Fury kept Parker out of trouble with his superiors and had him first on instant dial - he’d never tell the kid that though, because he’s never had anyone on instant dial since the Chitari attack. He’d evaded the CPS so long, and Fury hardly needed to do anything, the kid was damn good at not being found when he didn’t want to be - which was fucking annoying if you were trying to find him.

Fury stood up for his small ass, and said it was because he was a kid. But Fury would be honest when he said that he owed Parker more than the other way around. The kid never mentioned it though. Which put Fury on edge, because you could never tell with that kid. He didn’t like being called ‘asset’ or ‘weapon’, and Fury had no intention of even hinting that he was a soldier - he was  the furthest thing from it actually.

Fury couldn’t care less if he was a kid though, that little fucker was just fine on his own. Fury knew it. Peter knew it. But he didn’t act like it.  Because everyone else didn’t think that a teenager could take care of themselves in this fucked up world. Fury would rather keep someone as smart, powerful, lethal and cunning as Peter Parker in his reach at all times rather than let him potentially become on the opposite side.

That. That right there. Would not be good...it would be like world ending bad. The child could probably take over the world if he had a free Sunday. Or enough incentive.

He’d also rather keep Peter mass intellect and power and just overall deadliness to himself too. Peter didn’t even need to be told to do it, so Fury thought he had similar thoughts. It would be less of a pain in the ass if no one knew he was a kid and was potentially the most dangerous being in the world. Well maybe not most powerful, but defiantly up there.

But goddamn, the kid was so ominous.

“You can’t walk out like that.” Fury said in the driver's seat.

“It projected power.” Peter said sarcastically from the passenger seat next to him and gestured outward over exaggeratedly. It was at times like these that Fury wondered why he recruited the kid.

“It was immature and childish.” Fury responded, like he would an adult. Peter deserves enough respect from Fury at this point, even if no one shares the same thoughts. “Look kid, I can’t keep covering for your dumbass. So follow orders, or suffer the council next time.” How many times has he said that, only to completely not follow through? Oh yeah:every time.

“They are a bunch of holographic cowards. They can’t even beat up a butterfly, and yet they are a pain in the ass.” Peter grumbled and Fury knew he was just venting a bit, but it seemed more closed off. Peter never insulted anyone in person, but usually he never got angry with anyone either. Not really. Just meaningless banter and empty insults he didn’t mean. He was more of a passive aggressive type of person. Emphasis on the passive.

Shit like that would get literally anyone else in his position killed in an instant.

“So are you.” Fury shot back.

“I know how to fight.” Peter assured with a snort.

“God knows how.” Peter just scoffed at that, but didn’t answer the unasked question. Fury sighed, worth the effort.

“What did I even do this time?” Peter asked in a whine. He looked at Fury with innocent eyes, he knew made Fury’s teeth grind. Fury didn’t know what the kid was trying to play at here but it wouldn’t work. Or was it working for him? Fury could never tell with this kid.

“You didn’t follow orders.” he said simply. Peter groaned and slouched in his chair. If Fury has any sympathy, he’d most defiantly had wasted it in this kid long ago.

“I couldn’t.” Peter muttered, he was annoyed. But he wasn’t trying to hide it, so Fury guessed he was okay with showing him. He sometimes envies Peters ability to switch on and off his emotions as he so chooses.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fury asked, not looking over at Parker and the kid groaned like a real teenager. He is a real teenager.

“It’s supposed to mean: tell me who their actually pissed at?” Fuck, he forgot this kid actually had more than two brain cells. Parker actually did a better job than anyone could have hoped or gave him credit for. He made all the right calls, but it was at the cost of not answering to the given ones, and he didn’t give a shit as he made them anyway. Still he saved a hell of a lot more people than he would have if he actually followed orders.

“They’re just arrogant, hotheaded entitled bastards, who think their right all the time.” Fury said “And you proved them wrong and embarrassed them.” the boy nodded his head wisely, as if he had enough experience to give wisdom out. He probably did despite being only 15.

“So they value their egos over 15 innocent people’s lives and 3 dogs?” Peter asked and Fury nodded. “Well they can stick their goddamn lectures up their asses then. I don’t give a shit about their damn reputation, or mine for that matter. It can burn in hell for all I care. If I’m can save 18 lives, you know I’m gonna do it. Fuck their egos.”

“You count the dogs?” Fury raised another brow. Not sure weather to reprimand the boy or be amused.

“Fuck yeah!” Peter responded without hesitation. Fury barked a hard laugh.

“Seriously? They can mess you up in ways you never thought possible.” Fury reminded, and god if talking to Peter didn’t remind him of talking to Carol. Everyone was so professional around him, but never those two. God forbid they ever meet and reek havoc on Fury’s life.

“I’m already messed up in ways that should be impossible.” Peter said and Fury raised an eyebrow. “Look I fight the guy aiming the gun, not shooting it. Less messy and a hell of a lot more easy, plus no trail of red. So yay, extra credit. If I need to kick their ass…” Peter shrugged. Ominous. God Fury didn’t even know what he meant half the time, but at the same time he did. And god fuck, only Peter Parker could do that.

“Just next time don’t do your own shit. Or at least try to follow orders.” this kid was gonna be the death of him and many others, and sometimes Fury thought that was his plan. He seemed all innocent, but then kicks all kinds of ass. He seemed harmless, worthless, loser, but then he saves over 100 people's lives and the body count is less and Manhattan is actually intact, if not a little sticky. He was a fucking genius and no one even knows it, and Fury think he likes to keep it that way, so he had an edge for when people gave up and turned on him.

And god damn was it a killer edge.

“Hey, do you think our stomachs think all potatoes are mashed potatoes?”

The kid was a fucking mastermind.

OoOoO

Thor did not like the spider child.

That’s not to say he did not like children, he in fact quite enjoyed their innocent company. Their eyes were filled with naive wonder and they were excited by the littlest of things. Impressionable and obedient to adolescent orders and requests. Though they scream and cry sometimes, they were cute and a ray of sunshine in the otherwise bleak face of reality. They hadn’t had life break them down, and were blissfully ignorant of the problems and harsh way of the worlds they lived in.

But Parker was not like other children.

He was a child, and though he had the age and characteristics of one, he was joining them on the battlefield. He was facing the harsh world in the face without being prepared enough to do so. He had not seen the real world yet and was not prepared to fight in battles that involved the Avengers because of his naiveness. He’d hold them back with his childish antics, that had no place on the battlefield. Either that, or he’d run when his comrades most relied on him.

He also didn’t light up in wonder like normal children would at certain things, like the presence of the Avengers- he in fact tried to runaway from them. He was snarky and sarcastic. Didn’t follow authority, or orders, and though it has worked out for him so far and no one got hurt, it still angered the god, because Parker was getting away with things that he shouldn’t have. The good Captain has made an effort to set him straight but it has fallen upon deaf ears of the arrogant boy.

He was not at all like young Keener, whom, although sarcastic and snarky, was nearly a year older and didn’t get into battles directly. Then again young Keener was not enhanced or mutated or had any form of training outside of the self defense he and his fellow comrades taught. But that was the issue, young Parker thought he had to use the powers given to him and didn’t know they could be a burden. He thought this was all fun and games, and it would soon get someone hurt.

Harley was a perfect example of the reason he loved children. He could joke with the Avengers and listen when they told him to hide. Thor, much like the rest of his fellow Avengers, adored him. He was smart and helpful when repairing damaged or destroyed gear. He helped and didn’t get into fights, unlike Parker who only used violence and destruction of enemies as his answer. He had not lost his innocence as well.

There was something dark though, that frankly scared Thor, inside of Parker. It was the thing that made him avoid and ignore the young boy instead of reprints him like the captain. He didn’t think the captain saw it though, because he was sure that Rogers would be afraid of it too, if he did. It was terrifying to see, especially in a child.

The only reason Thor noticed was because he had seen it in his own brother. The darkness of seeing something you weren’t supposed to, of being stripped of innocence so young in age. Having been treated like an outcast and knowing nothing more than that. Watching a scene of happiness knowing that you will never get the same feelings. That haunted look mirroring from green to brown eyes was identical to that of his brothers.

His brothers defense mechanism was to act out and try to take over Asgard. Violence was his answer. Parker’s answer seemed to be humor, which was leagues better than Loki’s but it still scared him. And annoyed him.

Though different tactics on dealing with it, it was the same problem. The longing look that his behind that mischievous sparkle. Wanting to be treated as something better.

And maybe that’s the real reason Thor avoided Parker. He reminded him of Loki. Reminded him of how he failed his brother, and if he tried to console Parker, he’d surely fail the same way. There were so many things knew he could do differently with his brother, but that is only because he’s known his brother all his life. He only had just met Parker, and could not change any mistakes that he may have made. Loki and Peter were only similar in that one sense, not in any other. He wouldn’t know how to fix young Parker, even if he could.

But instead of feeling remorse to that fact, he felt anger. And he took it out on the young child.

“Uhm, sorry to bother you and all, but we’re landing in like five minutes.” Parker said and his hand was hovering over Thor’s arm, as if afraid to touch it. Thor’s brow furrowed as he ripped the hand, maybe a little too harshly, away and Parker stepped back immediately. He did not look deterred or scared, just looking at him with unreadable eyes.

“You do understand the challenges we will face out there, correct?” He said more than a little coldly and Parker looked up at him confused. Cocked his head like a small dog, and reminding Thor of all that stripped innocence. Taunting him with his mistakes. “It’s better to leave before you get in over your head, especially when comrades of mine are counting on you.” Thor said, stepping up to Parker, who did move. He wanted to make it clear that a child didn’t belong here. That if anything happened to the people he loved because of the boy’s childish antics, it would be met with harsh and serious consequence, preferably administered by Thor or even Natasha herself. The Black Widow was indeed intimidating, far more than any warrior of Asgard. Peter paused before grinning lopsidedly.

“You count on me? Aw that’s sweet.” The child said lightly and Thor felt his anger flare at the child’s take away.

“This is not a game.” Thor said tightly, trying not to yell. Not to let his anger show, just as Peter was, rather successfully, not letting his fear of this mission show. Parker may be a kid, but surley he at least knew that if he messed up enough, innocent people would be killed.

“Yeah, but like still.” Peter shrugged nonchalantly and Thor picked him up by the back of his collar to have him look at the god directly in his furious eyes. The nonchalance was intolerable at this point. Inappropriate really, because people’s lives were at stake. People that they were trying to protect.

“You must follow orders. You cannot avoid consequence with me. This is not a joyride for your awarded powers.” Thor said lowly Peter looked him directly in the eye. “Although, I don’t even know why you were given such great ability at such a young age. It is unfit for an inexperienced child to have such power and waste it as you do.” Thor continued into his harsh tirade.

“Could you have said that maybe like, 10 years ago? Give the speech and everything?” Peter muttered after a moment, letting something other than his irritating humor come into his voice. It pissed Thor off that he couldn’t distinguish it.

“You don’t understand-”

“Can that lecture. I’ve already heard it.” Peter sighed, letting boredom take over his tone. He was holding something back, because his voice sounded a little too strained to not actually care. “And I wasn’t, how did you put it ‘awarded’? These powers. Things happen. Accidents happen. Where were the Avengers for-” Peter shook his head as he went on to make another point. “I don’t avoid consequences, no one dishes them out. Besides,” Peter then smiled “everything seems to work out in the end.” Thor slammed him down and Parker was caught off balance due to the odd angle and fell to the ground.

“We shall see about that.”

OoOoO

Parker reminded him of his kids.

Clint didn’t want his kids to end up like him. Being a killer, spy and/or agent of SHIELD, for SHIELD, or even associated with SHIELD. At all. He wanted his kids to be able to trust other people like normal people, and not be paranoid about their family, current and future. He didn’t want them to look over their shoulder and expect danger. He wanted them to be carefree and have fun and live their lives in the daylight and not in the shadows.

Parker was a perfect example of what he never wanted his kids to be. But also everything he wanted his kids to be. That was at the top of things that pissed him off about Peter Parker. In fact, that pissed a lot of people off and he didn’t seem to give a shit that they did, in fact, have shit list specifically for them. He seemed to encourage it, actually.

He was rash, reckless and disobedient. Never followed orders. Went off on his own. Disappeared for days to only come back casually with a smoothie. He was unreliable to the Avengers, and unreliable to probably everyone else in his life. Hell he was probably skipping school for this ‘superhero’ shit, if he even bothered to go at all anymore. He acts like he knows everything, and acts like he too good for somethings, like a teenager- which he fucking is. He doesn’t listen to anyone, and had no regard for safety.

But again, SHIELD couldn’t hold him down. No professional organization could honestly say they controlled Spiderman. He was too hard to even be monitor. That was the only part of Peter that he wanted to be handed down to his kids. The fact that he could come and go as he pleased into SHIELD. Unlike the Avengers, SHIELD couldn’t tell him what to do, just asked if he could do it. Peter could say no to SHIELD. He could piss off just about anyone in that organization and get away with it. And Fury seemed to support that. He seemed fine letting Peter come and go with no warning or permission. And Fury didn’t waste any resources on tracking him down. They never needed to, because they couldn’t give less of a shit about him. Unlike the rest of the world, Parker, and he could not stress this enough, could not be monitored.

It was impossible.

And that probably pissed Clint off more than anything. Clint has never asked questions like Peter did, he never said no to SHIELD. He thought that was a given coming in, no questions asked. And he kicked himself for it later, because this kid came in and had done just that. Said no, disobeyed orders, stood up for himself. He was everything Clint didn’t do because he thought it wasn’t possible.

And Peter Parker is anything but possible.

He was confusing and managed to put almost everyone working with him at risk. He couldn’t even imagine how much trouble Parker’s family - of whom he never talked about, strange - would be in. His loved ones must be in hell trying to reel in this fucking kid who’s ego was so big that it decided to screw everyone in New York over, just because he could.

He’d never tell Peter about his kids...Ever... even if held at gunpoint. Just keep harassing the kid until he left his life for good. Left his team and family alone.

And that’s the thing, he’s still a kid. He acts like he knows what going on, but he doesn’t. Just like every other kid in the world. He doesn’t understand the dangers and he doesn’t get that this world is a harsh cruel place. Spider-Man doesn’t kill, at least that’s what he’s heard from people, not the kid himself. He doesn’t get that death and destruction don’t stop because he decided to become a hero. It doesn’t just stop when one person that you love dies. It keeps going and it never ends until it kills you too.

“Hey, like four minutes to landing.” Peter grumbled, like a teen who’s just been grounded for staying up past curfew. He’d heard Thor had given him a lecture. Good, that kid needs one.

“Yeah?” Or maybe he needed a few. “So what’s your plan hotshot? Gonna go in there and listen or like guns blazing?” Clint said in a dull tone. And Peter shifted a bit and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t call me hotshot.” he mumbled before saying “And it depends if your plan’s any good.” he shrugged and was about to walk off before Clint grabbed his arm, rather harshly and spun him around. He would not have anyone, especially a spoiled brat, talk to him like that. He needed to be set straight and be actually punished for his attitude. He had to treat adults with respect and not like they aren’t trying to help him. He needed this.

“Like Thor said, this isn’t a game.”Clint said, even as Peter lightly tugged on the grip, he made it tighter and watched a flash of panic go through Peter’s eyes, before determination and another unreadable look flooded it, before continuing. “So you better stop treating it like one. Stop acting like you know everything.”

“I don’t know everything.” Peter admitted, but it didn’t sound like a confession. Clint growled, gripped harder and Peter had a flash of fear in his eyes this time, Clint barley caught it.

“Not listening to orders? Going off to do your own thing? If that’s not true, then tell me kid, why do you act like you think you’re better than everyone?” Clint’s voice rose in his angry whisper. Venom dripping from every word. The kid didn’t flinch at that as he ripped his arm away, and Clint was sure he used more strength than he meant to, as the older man stumbled back.

“I’m not, asshole.”

OoOoO

The kid wasn’t afraid of him.

That was weird because the only one who wasn’t afraid of him immediately was Tony. He poked him and even mentioned the hulk. But Tony Stark was Tony Stark, he could hardly settle as a good example for young upcoming heroes such as Peter, who also happened to be his own entity the more Bruce spent time around him. He hardly knew how Harley ended up so responsible, much more responsible than his adoptive father. It was also worrying because he was a goddamn kid who didn’t know what kind of dangers he was in when around Bruce or the Hulk. Or maybe he did, as Bruce said, Peter was turning out to be an unpredictable anomaly.

Every other Avenger was careful around Bruce for the first few months of being a team. Eventually they were just as carefree with him as Tony was. But Peter? He was not afraid of him. Sure he didn’t talk much to the kid personally, but when he did the boy seemed pretty happy to talk to him. The only reason that they didn’t talk much was because Bruce was afraid that he was going to hurt Peter. Physically, that is. He wasn’t so attached to him that he could actually do any mental or psychological harm, and even if he could, this was for the best Bruce stayed away anyway. Parker had a way of pushing people’s buttons, and unlike Harley, Peter didn't have a parental figure that dons a protective suit of armor. Even if Peter did have superpowers, Hulk could crush him in one swing of a fist.

The kid seemed like a good kid at first, He was shy for the first half of their first mission. Kept to himself and they thought he was listening. They were the Avengers afterall, and what kind of kid doesn’t listen to the Avengers. Peter Parker, apparently. Turns out he wasn’t listening, he was just too bored to voice it, then he ended up pissing everyone off. It was more than a little irritating that he never followed orders, and though Bruce didn’t like it, it was nothing the Hulk would come out for. Well that’s probably because he did follow orders, on his own terms.

Pissing people off never seemed like a problem for Peter before. Why would it be, he just stopped car thieves and got cats out of trees. But pissing Bruce or the Hulk off? That was a big danger, to not only Parker but everyone around him as well. But Peter didn’t seem to understand, because he was too naive to. Hulk could kill that child with one finger in no time, and all the kid seemed to be able to do was taunt and tease and again piss Bruce the fuck off!

But there was this weird feeling whenever he talked to Peter. Like the anger he was forcing down to keep down the Hulk vanished. The Hulk wanted to come out whenever he was around, but not out of anger. Which was weird, because the Hulk hated people. Bruce knew he couldn’t afford for the Hulk to come out under any circumstance that didn’t require a code green.

The kid just didn’t see how he was putting everyone in danger by being so careless. Forget just himself, he was being too reckless for the repercussions not to have already been sounded. He was a kid, who thought that everything would work out because he was a minor, that everyone was safe just because he was swinging about in spandex. And yes, while that is part of the job, the other much more important part was to actually help and listen and do what needed to be done so everyone was safe. He needed to know that this was not just a game, and could not be reset if he screwed up.

That this wasn’t training. This wasn’t a drill. There was no redos, retakes, or reset. When people die, they die. They aren’t coming back. And when they died because of him. Because of his mistake. Because of a choice he made- and yes he would have to make those choices eventually. That would eat him up inside, and it would never stop hurting. And it didn’t just affect him. It affected those other people’s families, maybe even more so. Because they didn’t know the names of everyone they saved, and they didn’t know the names of everyone they had let down. That they had let die. This wasn’t a game, the kid needed to know that.

“Touchdown in 3.” Peter gritted as he stomped in from the other room, in anger, or what seemed to be anger. He was about to stomped away, when Bruce gently grabbed his shoulder and Peter tensed before he whirled at him. “Don’t you dare say anything about following orders I get it.”

So the others talked to him too? That was good. But that only served to piss Peter off more. Which wasn’t good.

“I don’t quite think you do.” Bruce said gently and Peter ripped his arm back and breathed a bit. That was good, that Peter knew how to calm himself down. Bruce knew he wasn’t completely clueless, he had been doing the Spiderman thing long before he was with the Avengers. He just needed to go about it differently, because his old way of quips and thwips wouldn’t work for him forever.

“What do you even care?” Peter mumbled and didn’t look him in the eye. God, that really did make him look like a kid. Like Harley looked whenever he was being a moody teenager, not wanting to leave the lab to do his homework.

“Because things are dangerous out there and the orders are there to keep you safe.” Bruce reminded. Not coming closer, Peter didn’t seem to want to be touched. Which Bruce got, he didn’t figure Parker had an easy life if he ended up where he was standing now. Hopefully he wouldn’t be in the end end.

“That’s not why we’re going on the mission.” he mumbled as a reminder and Bruce sighed. They were going to save other people, true, but...

“Yeah, but you’re a kid.” Bruce said “Just listen, and it will be okay. Try not to piss people off so much.” Peter looked at him with a slightly wounded look before turning and going into the other room. Bruce just barley caught what he mumbled.

“I do try.”

OoOoO

He reminded him of a soldier.

When Steve was young, he wanted to be in the army. He was young and foolish and skinny and small. He had asthma and couldn’t even walk to school sometimes because he was so sick all the time. All he ever wanted to do was help people, and prove himself. When he’d finally joined the army and all that, Steve finally had a chance to actually do that. They didn’t let up in the army training for him, and gave him the same rough treatment as everyone else. They reprimanded him more, in fact, and that only pushed him to go harder, even though he was pretty sure they wanted him to quit. Then he had the opportunity of the serum and could help people even more. And even more so, when he joined the Avengers.

When he first saw the kid come in, he thought they were one in the same- he actually got a bit giddy. He thought that the kid had wanted to grow. Though the kid wanted to fight for the greater good. Thought the kid would listen and push harder to impress. He thought that he was a kid just trying to help and prove himself.

He was wrong.

The kid didn’t seem to have anything to prove to anyone. He didn’t follow orders, he didn’t push harder to impress. He seemed to get a kick out of annoying everyone with the fact that he could get away with anything.

He didn’t want to be a soldier. But all the same, Steve couldn’t help but feel he was witnessing some sort of shell of the soldier that he could be.

Or the one that he was.

Steve could tell though, without a doubt, he wanted to help people. And oddly, he was. In his own weird twisted way, he managed to save a bunch of lives. But still, his methods was highly unorthodox, and inappropriate, so much so that if there was a chart he would be so far off it that he’d probably end up on Asgard...metaphorically that is (he didn’t think that Thor would even let him have the options of transporting through the Bifrost). He had all the characteristics of a child too young to be in a battlefield. Just like Steve had been, but Steve didn’t actually get to fight until post serum anyway. Probably like Peter, if you substitute a consented monitored experiment with an unplanned radioactive mishap.

Nonetheless, Steve treated him like a soldier. Because weather he was one or not-and Steve was almost positive that he was, somehow, and that thought terrified Steve even more- he was fighting with the Avengers. Under Steve or Tony’s command. He had to listen. He had to follow orders. No matter what. No matter the stakes. He had to stay in line.

Except he didn’t.

Peter- no matter how many times Steve lectured or Natasha reprimanded or Tony sniped or hell, even Bruce at one point yelled at him- would never, ever follow orders if he didn’t agree with them. That was the most accurate statement, because sometimes he did follow orders, and Steve figured it was going with the plans he never cared to share with anyone but himself, or he was too tired to actually rebel. It didn’t matter the harsh treatment they gave him, because that’s what needed to be done in order to save more lives in his mind. This wasn’t daycare. If the kid wanted to fight, he had to understand he was a small - very small- piece in something much bigger than himself and his own whaky agenda of - what seemed to be - shitting on the Avengers, well, Avenging. He didn’t understand that he was fighting for something bigger.

Because he was just a damn kid. Smaller and younger than Steve ever was.

Then he didn’t show up for a while. And Steve thought that it was okay, he was just on leave. But then Fury was giving them a mission and muttered - or bitched, as Tony so eloquently put it - about how they could’ve used Parker for this mission. Steve had wondered why Fury hadn’t just called him. It took Steve a second to realize that, Parker had actually turned down Fury when he asked for help. To potentially save the world.

That. That right there. Was not okay.

When Parker did eventually come back, bruised to hell and back he might add, Steve had gone off on him. He didn’t let up, because the kid had made a commitment, and he helpfully reminded him of that. The kid was submissive for a while, until he wasn’t and bit back that no, in fact, he was just doing SHIELD a fucking favor. Steve had been confused, and he still was, but the harshness in Parker’s voice when he said, and Steve quotes “Stay in your fucking lane Rogers.”, had Steve never ask him about it again. “If Fury hasn’t already told you, then you don’t need to know. Be a good soldier and march off or whatever.” Was the logical appeal, and Steve left him alone about it. But he didn’t march and made that very known in a grumble as he walked away, eliciting a laugh from Parker that made Steve’s head swirl.

Didn’t stop him from lecturing Parker about the other shit, for lack of better word, he did.

“Two minutes.” Parker said from the doorway, crossing his arms. He shifted from one side to the other, as he waited for Steve to look over. Steve steeled himself staring at the face of a highly uncomfortable looking boy. That was odd, Parker was usually so well trained in his facial expressions.

“Who told you that?” Steve asked. For lack of a better segway into the conversation he was about to have. Peter looked like he knew what was going to happen, but didn’t want it too. He bit the line anyway.

“Mister Stark.” It was weird how Parker did in fact have enough courtesy to address them by formal names such as Mister and Miss and Captain and Agent, but he never added a sir or ma'am. He never said those things unironically. Only if he was teasing.

Steve didn’t want to do this, it felt wrong on so many levels - because this kind of thing was common sense among the army. Parker wasn’t like other soldiers though. But he was nonetheless, and he shouldn’t act or be treated any differently.

“Sir.” Steve reminded stoically and Peter looked confused for a second. Cocked his head and blinked at him, almost like a confused puppy.

“Pardon me?” he asked. As if he hadn’t believed what he heard, either that or he was just confused at the random word just spoken, or he didn’t expect the conversation to go this way. Honestly neither did Steve.

“‘Mister Stark, sir’” Steve said for him and stood up to his full length as the look of understanding crossed across Peter’s face. Then a look of anger mixed with something else. He watched the anger slowly seep out of his face and into his eyes, which was terrifying, but Steve could pin the emotion he kept spread throughout his body. And what the ever loving holy fuck, a kid shouldn’t be able to do that!

“I’m not calling you ‘sir’, Captain.” he said snidely, and Steve had to hand it to the boy. He managed to keep most of the anger out of his voice. But the attitude had to drop.

“You will, because you may not be an Avenger yet, but you are fighting with them, and you-” Steve was cut off.

“I’m sorry, what?” Peter said, in a voice that made it sound like he was more disbelieving than mad now. Steve raised a brow for him to explain his interruption. “Whoever said I’m gonna be and Avenger?” Steve sighed. This Kid.

“That’s why Fury had you shadow us-” Steve was getting annoyed with these cut offs. But it was hard to prove Peter Parker wrong, especially when the kid didn’t really prove himself right verbally most of the time. He’s never had to. He was always so irritatingly right all the time. But one day- Steve hoped, and it was a terrible hope- that Parker’s luck would run out.

He didn’t know how ironic that was.

“Ha, that’s not why he had me ‘shadow’ you guys. Cute term by the way.” Peter scoffed and shook his head. Steve flared a little at his arrogance and what he implied.

“Then tell me why you think your here?” Steve, in all his wisdom and glory, could not fathom how the child before him could just shrug and throw away all the anger that Steve had seen pooling his eyes before. How could a child have that much control over his emotions? It was scary and worrying and insulting and just not fair. Steve barley had even an ounce of that kind of self control, and Parker, from the looks of it now, seemed to have an endless supply of it.

“Dunno, but it’s not to be an Avenger.” Peter said and Steve opened his mouth as he glared at him. “You don’t get to decide that.” Steve held up his hands in slight surrender.

“You’re right about that, but Fury put you on the team for a reason.” Steve reasoned and Peter nodded.

“You’re right, and if you needed to know, he’d tell you.” Peter said casually and shrugged, and Steve felt his anger flare a bit again, but not at Parker- at least not directly.

“And he told you?” Steve growled at him, in a mocking way. Parker didn’t bite on it though.

“Maybe if you asked him…” Peter said and finally looked at him with a confused almost smug look. “Have you?” he said in a way too sweet to be innocent way. “Ask him, that is.”

Steve shook his head. “You can’t just ask the Director of SHIELD that.” Steve said. “That isn’t what good soldiers do. They don’t ask those kinds of questions.”

“Then I think you’ve answered your own question, Captain.” Peter said stepping in, like he was going to claim Steve’s territory. “What makes you and I different, is that I am not a puppet soldier that puts my head down when I have to.” Peter said snidely and Steve couldn’t help but let his anger stir inside him. He knew Parker was just trying to get under his skin. He knew that the kid was just trying to make him say or do something he’d soon regret. But the way he knew exactly which buttons to push. The way he didn’t hesitate in pushing them. The way Parker was. It was so damn frustrating.

“And what makes you think that you aren’t meant to be treated like a soldier in training?” Steve said suddenly. It was unexpected but didn’t seem to catch Peter off guard. Not in the least, even as he never hesitated to answer.

“Because I’m not.” Peter said and pushed off to step forward to Steve. “And I would rather not be.” he said in the same voice he used to taunt bad guys in. Steve snarled and strided all the way so he was towering over Parker, who only made it two steps in the room and wasn’t moving to claim anymore ground. Staying near the door so he could run out at any given moment. While probably one of the most effective and best strategies for any given situation, Steve only saw a coward and not a scared little kid facing his fears all alone. Because Parker was never scared...right?

“And what’s so bad about it? What goes through your head to make you hate the fact that you’re not just fighting for yourself? What makes you so afraid to be a soldier?” Steve asked, those were all rhetorical, but Parker didn’t answer them like he would have as he kept on glaring up at Steve, seemingly undaunted. “Why do you refuse to be what you are?” Steve had meant that Peter was a soldier weather he liked it or not. And there was so many things that he could have interpreted that one statement as, but weather if it was to make a point or the fact that he just didn’t care or just to genuinely get Steve to shut up about it, he answered the unasked question: “Why don’t you like being a soldier?”

Steve was too angry with the kid to actually process what he had just said, in the moment- the small window of time where his opinion actually counted. But Peter’s answer would later forever haunt Steve:

“Because it sucked the first time.”

OoOoO

‘Follow my lead soldier!’

He was trying.

‘Do exactly as I tell you!’

He was trying.

‘Come here!’

He was trying!

Of course in the middle of battle he usually does his own thing. It usually didn’t matter so long as he got the job done. Usually he didn’t care. Usually he wasn’t so scared and mad and confused. Usually he didn’t felt this betrayed and alone. Usually he never felt like he had to prove anything, even to the Avengers,

But now he needed to follow orders. He’d promised Fury he’d at least try  not to be a little shit about this. He thought he could do it- he wanted to do it- because the Avengers gave up ordering to do things when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. And if he couldn’t, then you know, no sweat. They usually didn’t care anyway.

Except today apparently.

Today, they wanted to let him know that he was a screw up. Today they wanted to yell and reprimid him about following orders. Today- of all fucking days- they wanted to let him know just how much they didn’t believe in him.

Now he had this weird feeling, a feeling he hadn’t felt since he was 11, that he needed to fucking prove himself to these entitled assholes. He wasn’t a coward. He didn’t think he was better. He knew the dangers. He wasn’t a soldier, not anymore.

Not anymore!

So why the fuck did he want to prove to these guys that he wasn’t what they thought he was. Today, the day he was actually trying to be nice and follow orders because Fury had gently - at least for Fury- and politely - at least for Fury- asked him to follow rules. To try. Just this once. And he was doing this because he wanted to, at first. But now it felt like he needed to. And didn’t need  to do anything since he had graduated high school.

Cap had given him a specific set of instructions, and they were easy enough to follow. But then Tony decided to ask him to be at the other side of the battlefield and do a completely opposite set of tasks. Then Natasha decided now was a great time to order him around and he was needed elsewhere. It didn’t matter though because they all ended up coming to him. But he had different things he needed to do, like the original orders, and he kinda just blanked out and skipped to the end.

Getting a little rusty there, huh?

Cap said he needed some monster goblin thingys webbed up, and Tony said he needed the alien goblin thingys beat up. Natasha said she needed the transports they were using, but in the end he only heard one thing.

Beat the bad guys.

And that’s exactly what he did.

Too many orders plus not enough time equaled a panicked spider. Here was his equation: 2O+Ti-1=PS. Logic, or actually no, that wasn’t an equation. But he had no time for balancing god dammit, but that did sound way more nice than this... he’d show his work later, for now he ended up beating them all up and webbing them after and then collecting their transports.

So there, everyone was supposed to be happy.

But they weren’t.

They just kept yelling at him. And his vision was already foggy and he had a bunch of cuts all over him, and everything was too loud…. Oh... oh no.

This was exactly not the right time to have a sensory overload. Absolutely not the right time. Can’t his anxiety suck it up for like 2 seconds here, at least, so he can fucking breathe. Pretty please? It would also help if you stopped yelling at me!

“You didn’t follow my lead! You should’ve webbed those guys up, not all of them.” Steve said in a stern tone looking down at Peter with a painfully hard glare. It reminded him of his old commander, what was his name again? Don’t think about it!

“He was not ready for this.” Something with an S. Stop thinking about it!

“Can’t he just follow, I don’t know one  order?” Or a C? You’re going to throw up if you think about it!

“I swear, there are 3 year olds who listen better than you!” Cotn..is? Stop!

“We literally gave you the easiest orders to follow.” Cotn...it Don’t you dare think it!

“If you can’t even manage to follow those, what are you even doing here?” Cotner! That’s it-... oh god.

I told you.

“Are you even listening to us Parker?!” Oh sweety, do you think he can actually hear you over all this white noise? That’s fucking Hi-larious.

But seriously, he was gonna pass out or puke if they didn’t get him out of here like yesterday.

“Yeah, and you can’t just web em like that, if your webs were weaker then they would’ve gotten out.” Tony glared at him and it made him further shrink in on himself. He can’t breathe and it wasn’t the asthma.

Please help.

He’d work on the webbing when he got some fucking chemicals, pending for better chemicals, he had to use cheap high school shit so bare with him. But he worked so hard to make sure they were a strong binding instead of silly string. They carried a full person and all his weight and added force and all the physics stuff. Albeit he was skinny and didn’t weigh as much as he should...

You know what, no, he will not be self deprecating himself over his genius. EVerything else about him could go down the garbage, and probably already has, but this? It was the best he could do with the materials he had, and you know what? Fuck you Stark, not everyone was a fucking billionaire, some of us are actually fucking broke, thankyouverymuch. Not everyone inherits their family’s multibillion dollar business. Not everyone can get a fucking job that supports your entire wellbeing, especially if you’re a minor. And not everyone can hold a job, especially when you’re a fucking superhero. So back off dipshit.

I’m gonna see flashbacks

“I just asked for one transport. Was that so hard?” Natasha was probably the worst and Peter wanted to cry. He really wanted to cry or scream. But instead he just let out a sigh. Crying and screaming wouldn’t do anyone any good but waste time. Maybe it would help him feel better, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. But damn his head hurt and his vision was going blurry, he needed to get out of there cause everything was too loud. But the Avengers were still lecturing, yelling, and putting him down. At this point he could only catch pieces of what they were saying, and even that was working his ass off.

I don’t wanna see flashbacks.

“Can’t even follow simple orders…”

Not there.

“Children should not be on the field….”

I am not there.

“What was Fury thinking bringing an irresponsible little…”

I need to get out!

“I need to go.” Not even realizing that he was cutting Steve off mid sentence because he couldn’t hear him. He wasn’t sure if his voice gave anything away, and right now he didn’t care. He stood up on wobbly legs. He couldn’t hear anything except loud muffles and sirens and screams and cars beeping and skidding and crashes of rubble. It was all too much and he couldn’t be there because it hurt.

He barely managed to shoot a web and stumble in the right direction and swing away.

Please help...

OoOoO

“Where’s Spider-man?”

Fury more demanded than asked the Avengers. Peter, no matter what he did, rarely skipped debriefing, even if he knew he was going to get yelled at. He only skipped it if he was injured - and in his language that meant any form of unconsciousness, no a stab wound isn’t severe, come on Fury stop asking stupid questions- or if he had other pressing matters to attend to- and that, that right there, is what scared Fury even more than any form of flesh wound the kid could ever acquire.

He sorely hoped it was the former.

“He ditched us after the battle.” Steve grumbled and Fury sighed, here they went again. The kid was going to literally be murdered by Steve Rogers on the accountability for pissing him off to much… that was probably too much to hope for, the kid was too stubborn to die.

“What did he do?” Fury asked already knowing the answer. It was a formality.

“Didn’t follow orders.” everyone said simultaneously and Fury gave a long suffering growl. This was getting tiresome. Why did they even bother trying anymore?

This. Kid.

They literally had a talk about this not even 10 hours ago, how the fuck did he manage to screw up this bad?... or maybe he wasn’t the one to screw up...

“Why’d you even want to recruit a snot nosed kid?” Clint said his feet on the table looking like he didn’t care but he did want an explanation. Fury knew Barton enough by this point to know that. Barton never asked questions so when he did it made them worth something, unlike Parker who asked stupid seemingly meaningless questions and got stupidly terrifying answers to almost anything based off that.

“He’s dangerous.” Fury said simply, not answering the question fully. The kid was a hell of a lot more than dangerous. He was lethal, which is a better word for dangerous that describes Peter Parker nearly perfectly.

“You know Fury, that’s the answer we always get.” Tony said and most of the rest of the Avengers looked as if they almost agreed with him for once. Only Parker could make people who were never meant to even meet, agree with each other. “Yeah, sure he’s got some freaky powers, big deal? He’s not trained and he’s a kid.”

“ Yeah the kid needs to be monitored, but why not do him like the Defenders. They’re under monitoring but not apart of Avengers Initiative. Why does the kid have to be?” Natasha asked in her own monotone. She cared a lot more about this situation than she let on, but if she could just see Parker’s potential beyond him being a kid, she would jump on him for help with her little… problem.

She just had a thing about child soldiers, but Fury did too. Parker wasn’t a soldier or an asset though. He was free to do as he pleased and sometimes that meant a little treat for Fury to get to monitor him up close, when he agreed to go on Avenger missions.

Fury furrowed his brows and scanned the room for Peter even if he knew he was not there. Something wasn’t adding up. Peter never followed orders before- hell, it was expected- but followed them back for briefing every time, without fail. He always faced the music. He never skipped it and never let anyone else take blame for mistakes he made no matter how severe.

So where was he?

When some of the others looked a bit confused. Fury didn’t answer the questions they were asking. He never did. “Why did he leave? Was he hurt?” that made them all pause. They actually didn’t know if Spider-man was hurt they just yelled at him and Fury wiped a hand over his face. “Find him.” he said in an irritable voice. The Avengers looked as equally annoyed but Tony started typing on his Stark pad anyway. “Wait.” Fury back tacked,how could he think these guys could find him. He obviously ran away from them. So the last people on earth to find him were all standing in this room. “I’ll fucking do it, you can’t.” Stark made an indigent noise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asked loudly. It means the kid doesn’t want to talk to you guys.

“It means you fucked up.” Fury said honestly and dialed Peter’s phone number to hear it ring 4 times before the kid answered.

“What?” his voice was scratchy and hoarse. Like he’d been strangled. He probably was. It sounded like he was choking down something, like a sob or lump or another emotion, no wait it was probably bile or saliva. Fury didn’t care right now.

“Where. The fuck. Are. you.” Fury sounded irritable as he grounded that out through gritted teeth, as if it would be some filter for his anger.

“Not there.” Peter shot back, like the little shit he was. And then groaned in misery, and no he wasn’t being melodramatic, it actually sounded like the kid was dying a slow and painful death.

Fury plowed on with no empathy to the other voice on the phone.

“Why.” these were statements, not orders. Demands not commands. Peter knew the difference, the Avengers didn’t.It was the only way to get Peter to not completely be an insufferable shit and somewhat corporate...sometimes…if your orders weren’t stupid.

“What do you care?!” He heard one of the Avengers scoff as if that proved a point. He rolled his eyes, just as he heard muffled retching. “Shit.” He looked to the Avengers who were looking at him intently.

“Are you sick?” At that the Avengers all bristled and he heard Peter spit something before groaning again.

“Fuck off.” He muttered but didn’t hang up. It sounded like he had dropped the phone and probably put it on speaker. How did that kid have anything to toss, he barely ate? He couldn’t help but wonder.

“What the hell? Why didn’t you say you were sick you should’ve-“ Fury was cut off by Peters loud moaning. Oh he didn’t want a lecture. He sharply glared at the Avengers who all look mostly annoyed if not a bit guilty.

“I said fuck off, ‘m not sick.”  Wow, was the kid really trying to play this game? He just threw up on the phone with the director of SHIELD. Albeit Peter was always unprofessional, titles meant jack shit to him anyway. You could rule the world and he’d still call you out and kick your ass if he needed to. Or wanted to for that matter.

“Kid, I just heard you toss your cookies into wherever you did.” Fury was hoping it was a toilet or sink and not a trash can in a Queens alleyway. Cause no matter what the kid had put him through, he didn’t deserve that.

“Yeah, but I ain’t sick.” Peter insisted. He sounded tired now, not so irritable. Unlike Fury. Who was about to explode with impending anger.

“If you aren’t sick then-“ Fury’s eye twitched in irritation as the kid casually cut him off again. As he seemed to do so many times, and not give any shits in the world about it.

“Fury, I said it twice and I’ll say it one more time, Fuck off.” Peter said pointedly. And it must have been bad, whatever it was that was going on with him, to call him Fury. You know without the sarcasm. Fury dropped it because he didn’t know how to voice any question that related to the topic now. He hated how Parker could do that.

“Words are powerful. The right ones can make or break a person.”

“Where’d you here that?”

“...A friend.”

“Fine” Fury sighed, deciding to move on “Then wanna explain why you ran off instead of telling the Avengers you were gonna puke?” It was met with irritable grumbling At the snipe. Fury heard someone’s muffled voice in the background but it wasn’t Parker’s. He couldn’t make out anything else than there was another person wherever he was. Parker decided to answer him quickly, but not out of fear, more out of wanting to get the hell away from this conversation as possible.

“I tried what you said. It was the worst experience I’ve ever had the pleasure of participating in. So thanks for that, you delusional bastard. I feel like shit. Fuck off into the hellhole you come from and leave me alone. Have a terrific day!” The call ended before he could ask any questions and Fury slid a hand down his face. The Avengers hadn’t heard the conversation and frankly he wished they had. Just so he could see what he had to deal with, when they were making it difficult for the kid.

At this point, he honestly couldn’t blame the kid. His words exaggerate a lot, but his actions always tell the truth. They fucked up this time, Peter did the thing that would save the most people and got yelled at for it. No wonder he was always trying to get out of group missions and not following orders. He’d always take the best course of action even if it meant doing it the hard way and alone.

“What happened?” Steve asked like the good Captain of a team of superheroes and super assholes he was. Or at least, that was what he was supposed to be.

“He was sick.” Fury sighed and Steve immediately straightened “and it takes a lot to make him sick.” He said pointedly. Steve then deflated.

“Enhanced metabolism?” Bruce asked under his breath, Fury ignored the question that the scientist surly had by now and was turning around in his brain. Figuring tons of equations Fury hadn’t even known existed nor did he care existed.

“We didn’t notice he was sick, he seemed fine on the plane ride over.” Tony mumbled, his forehead pinched in confusion.

“Maybe he was faking it?” Clint suggested “We were lecturing him, maybe he just used it as excuse to leave and not pay the consequences.” Clint shrugged and Thor bristled in what seemed to be anger. Fury better shut down that train of thought because it probably wasn’t true. And he didn’t need the Avengers going on an all out war with a teenage spider kid. It would be embarrassing when they lost.

“Tell that to the kid who was throwing up on the phone and insisting he wasn’t sick.” Fury said in a deadpan and Clint looked disappointed while Thor visibly calmed down. Those little-

“If he doesn’t think he’s sick, then why did he leave?” Natasha growled. It didn’t add up, she was right. Maybe he just needed space? You know to feel better and then come back. But it didn’t sound like he was coming back anytime soon. Definitely not for debrief.

“Do you all wanna be watched as you toss your cookies?” Fury asked with a raised brow and nobody answered so he continued “What were the orders he didn’t follow?”Fury asked the group, he was gonna get to the fucking bottom of this.

“He webbed all the baddies up with just his webs. We said to incapacitate them, not shoot them with silly string.” Clint answered and Fury had to do a double take. Did he just hear that right? The kid followed orders and they yelled at him.

“You’re all idiots.” he laughed but not with humor. “Those webs have the tensile strength to lift 10 planes and then some. Their not breaking anytime soon.” Fury slid his hand down his face again and stopped at his mouth. “God, he’s never following orders again. If he’s gonna just get yelled at for doing it and yelled at for not doing it. Oh my god, you’ve officially found a way to make this worse. He’s never gonna listen again.” He mumbled to himself hysterically. It was silent for a moment.

“Shit!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2-This is My Arena

Peter found the devil in his trash.

The guy was trying to get out of a fucking dumpster and head three bullet holes in his shoulder. Now Peter had seen a lot of weird shit when doing this particular chore of throwing away previous used, and currently unusable items, but this is like 6th place. Peter wasn’t gonna leave him like an asshole, no matter how many people accused him to be.

He met Wade Wilson long before Deadpool was even a concept- actually deadpool was never a concept, it kinda just happened. They’d always gotten into fights and those were the most irritating, yet amusing fights he’s ever been in. Every fight with Wade or Deadpool was like that.

Deadpool met Daredevil eventually, but Peter never knew how and they weren’t telling. Wade and Peter were literally banned from teaming up by the fucking government , but no one ever said SPidey and DP couldn’t have a friendly...unaliving session. And obviously the more the merrier and these guys were scumbags so hell yeah you can bash their heads in Double D . No one could stop them when they didn’t know who they were. They all teamed up once … at least that was how it was supposed to go.

Obviously, like most shit in Peter’s life, it didn’t go according to how it was supposed to be.

They formed Team Red, a group of mentally unstable assholes who don’t give a single shit about society or their laws. Or anything really. Not even personal problems- in fact they just laughed at their own depression, and refused any sort of therapy.They generally annoyed the shit out of anyone and everyone who came into cross paths with them because of their past that they couldn’t let go of. The past that tied itself to them and wouldn’t let go no matter how hard they ran from it, but they wouldn’t know because they’ve never tried to outrun the darkness that slowly swallows them up and pushes everyone they love away from them. It was a toxic unhealthy environment that they created for themselves, and Peter should probably get the fuck out of it.

It was the best thing to happen to him.

Matt was blind lawyer and Wade was scarred mercenary, or “bounty hunter” when cops or any legal people were around and he was in his street clothes- but those were very particular cases, cause honestly no one wanted to fuck with him or talk to him just by his face alone( and Peter has blatantly mentioned to Matt that he looked like an old avocado after it got shitted out, but only when Wade was in earshot). That’s what he knew. He didn’t associate their names with their faces. He associated their names with their real life shit and problems. And they probably did so with him too.

Peter preferred Team Red over the Avengers.

They bitched about their problems without giving or getting any meaningful solutions that would end in all parties happy permanently. In fact their solutions encouraged grudge holding and drinking it away until they forgot about it and then in the morning didn’t care about it because they got hangovers (Peter never participated in the alcholism, but he did enjoy it when Matt and Wade got drunk and allowed himself to forget about his problems by watching their misery).

They didn’t give him orders, they just threw sticks- and bullets and webs and knives and sometimes sledgehammers very occasionally a beam, maybe a bomb or two, but like small bombs, but mostly glitter and sticks of every material they weren’t picky-at the bad guys and watched the aftermath. Usually it ended in the guys hitting back which lead to one of them punching back and then they were knocked out, but sometimes Wade punched with his katanas - they are fucking swords Wade, but whatever floats your boat man- and they kinda...died? Unalive? Stopped breathing permanently? But it was okay, because Peter did that sometimes too, and he always dropped their bodies in the Hudson in five different places all of which were not where they actually killed the guy- he had a fucking reputation man, unlike Wade who could just leave the body there, lucky bastard (but sometimes when Peter was too tired, he’d just blame it on Wade and he didn’t care that Wilson got the street cred as long as Parker got to sleep).

They fought with little to no communication about battle strategy, and a hell of a lot of talking about literally anything else. They were always way more violent than they needed to be, Peter noticed he was more aggressive with them around. But it’s almost like they monitored each other. That they wouldn’t get too aggressive that they would kill someone by beating them to death - they weren’t fans of prolonged death unless completely necessary- but also they wouldn’t judge each other and they could let loose, way more than when they were alone or around other people. It was a place for Peter to get all his aggression out- and he never told anyone that because it would ruin it. There was always blood- waaay too much blood for Peter’s usual taste- and Peter minded it a lot less with them around. He thought it was because they talked too much to notice it. Almost like sweeping all their problems under a rug.

Matt always said he wore red so that people wouldn’t know he was bleeding. Wade said it was because he didn’t wanna deal with the stains. Peter saw the logic in each of those probably messed up, but nonetheless accurate- because stains were a pain you had to buy like ten tide pods to get them out, and Wade thought that was a waste of a perfectly good snack- perspectives and told them he wore red because it was the cheapest thing on the rack. They nodded wisly and understandingly to that.

Team Red had only one plan of action:

Just beat them up.

That’s all.

No orders or being told how to do things in a specifically specific and tedious and boring as fuck way, so long as they got the job done they were all good. No plans or protocols, cause plans usually went to shit within the first twenty seconds, and protocols not working were the reason they were doing this shit in the first place. They were totally off the books. Handled things not even the cops could dirty their hands with because of said plans and protocols going to shit, as previously mentioned.

They didn’t have this untouchable hierarchy that Peter had to meet the standards for. They weren’t arrogant bastards who took the law into their own hands either. They were just people who saw messed up shit in their past and wanted to beat up people like that because they were A.) mad and wanted to take some sort of revenge B.)had a burst of angelic happening and suddenly want to do what was right(But those were like adrenaline shots and soon wore out after one job that happened out of pure kindness- suffice to say Peter got those the most) or C.) they were just fucking bored and they all - well two thirds of them, Matt had a fucking day job (ugh, successful people, am I right?)- had nothing to do all day.

Team Red was the only time he was really himself around people. He felt most relaxed fighting with them because he could use the technique he grew up on - the ones with guns and fighting dirty and hacking so he could make kittens replace their files. Even though sometimes it got fucking weird. Like the time DP made him hack into the speakers in a bad guy base just for him to play a Lady Gaga Essentials playlist, and sing along to really off key even if it blew their cover. Or the time Red threw two sticks at him and told him to ‘ hit me as hard as you fucking can.’ even though he knew he had super strength and could probably kill him, because even though Red was fucking awesome, he wasn’t enhanced like he or Wade were.

Suicidal bastards.

He fucking loved it.

He got good at reading them.

If Matt was punching bad guys ten times harder and literally nearly killing them, then he was having a mediocre day. If he was slamming them against the wall and kicking them in the balls over and over and over and then proceeding to almost kill them, then he was having a good day.

Matt on a bad day was scary. Even for Peter.

If Wade was joking around constantly while shooting people in the head and slicing their bodies in half it was a good day. If he was talking to the voices in his head and the bad guys at the same time before turning them inside out, it was a mediocre day.

Wade on a bad day was scary. Even for Peter.

Peter was proud of himself because he could figure them out, and they literally were the hardest people in the world to be figured out. But he also kind of hated Team Red, cause they could read him too, and Matt was a fucking lie detector and Wade just somehow knew . He didn’t like that, but they never talked to him if he was having a bad day, if he was having a bad day and didn’t want to talk about it, they would just stay the hell away from him.

They were shit at dealing with emotions, but very aware of them. It fucking sucked. Because some emotions hurt and others were just too big and they took up too much space and sometimes it made it hard to breathe.

“Who shoved a stick up your fine ass?” DP said from behind him where he was waiting for them to all gather on a rooftop. It was always a rooftop. Wade had said they should be called the rooftop pals, Matt said it sounded like a Magic Tree House rip off. Peter responded by reciting the entire first book by memory to punish Wade who had never read the Magic Tree House because he lived in fucking Canada. Wade had responded that Peter was a fucking audio book and Matt agreed that audio books were the best kind of books. Peter had said that Matt’s opinion was invalid due to the fact that he was blind and told them that audiobooks weren’t actual books but go off, I guess.

“The Avengers suck.” Peter said in a huff. That was obvious. He shouldn’t have been so broad cause he actually wanted to talk about this with them, if only to hear them roast the Avengers because it would make him feel better.

“Foggy wouldn’t shut up about how you did a good job.” Red said and Peter groaned. That’s not what he wanted. He didn’t know how to deal with compliments and Matt knew it too, hell Matt had the same problem. And when Peter didn’t know how to deal with something he either threw it or ran away from it. Unless it was a math problem, but he always knew how to deal with those.

“Yet they yell at me! I don’t do what they tell them and they call me a brat, and when I do they yell at me! I just want to be able to do what I need to, it’s not like I’ve fucked up so drastically that it was irreversible.” Peter vented and crossed his arms, taking them back on track. Wade fucking laughed, that asshole.

Team Red was the only place he could act like the kid he was. No judgement, no scolding, no serious babying (they’d always make fun of his age, but they never actually meant any of the stuff they said), no lectures. Because Wade, and Matt on some level, acted just as childishly. It was a fucking sanctuary.

“So he does have teenage rebellion in him. Atta boy, I knew you could do it!” DP called out and Peter huffed again. Damn right he did, they just didn’t know said teenage rebellion wasn’t just to spite the Avengers but to save this damn city from their ignorance. Yeah, he thought it. Sue him. He didn’t see the Avengers : Earth’s mightiest heroes out here breaking up debt crippling drug and sex trafficking. It might not be immediate world ending, but it sure was destroying these people’s lives...wait that was serious, backtrack backtrack!

“It’s our fault for not restricting him, and now he’s a true brat who thinks he gets everything he wants.” Red said sarcastically and Peter nodded. Now they were getting it, this is exactly why he came to Wade and Matt. They got him.

“Damn straight it’s your faults. I don’t like being told how to do my job, thank you very much.” Peter said as a matter of factly. He felt a little better.

“Good always remember you’re manners.” DP said coming up next to him to sit down, Red on his other side. There was silence for a while, and then Peter heard police sirens and sighed.

“I wanna quit so bad.” Peter mumbled and Red barked out a harsh laugh.

“Same.”

“Mood!”

…

“We’re all fucking idiots.”

“Wanna go kick some ass?”

“Hell yeah!”

OoOoO

16 years earlier…

The Red Room was cold.

Both physically and emotionally. Washed Out white walls that were in desperate need of a repaint, but no one said anything about that part, because aside from the meaningless peeling paint, there wasn’t a speck of dirt. Not one single blemish in the routine. There was no time to even look at the wall, much less care about it. It was a soul sucking place if you even had a soul, though usually you didn’t coming in. You usually didn’t have a choice in that part either though. And there was only one way to come out.

At least, that’s what they told her.

It was no place for love. The kids who grew up there knew nothing of it and the adults who did scoffed at the concept. Discipline. Work. Death. There was no room for trivial things such as love and affection. But that was a given, you were never taught that. It was supposed to be common sense, because in a place like this, how could one maintain love of all things.

Natasha was indifferent to the concept. She didn’t bother with it or try to understand it. It was something that just existed and she’d never be able to obtain it, that was all she knew. She didn’t care though, it seemed useless to her anyway. She genuinely thought it was just a trivial meaningless fluke and gave it no other thoughts.

Until she experienced it.

She then knew how horrible it was. It was terrible, nothing to scoff at but to be warned about. It was dangerous, more dangerous than any weapon even feasible to man. It was soothing and lulled you into a false sense of security. Ripped out your heart in a million different ways and stitched it back together wrong, it was excruciating. Yet it was addicting. The pain was like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. And like all drugs, she was sure it was slowly killing her inside.

Yet she still didn’t seem to care.

The first time Natasha experienced love is what one would call a phase. At least that’s what the director had called it when she found out. That was what she dubbed it for a whole 3 weeks after she was banned from seeing her lover ever again. After Madame B, her director and tormentor as she’d soon realize, had been pissed and tortured Natasha 10 ways to hell.

She was supposed to be the Black Widow. This was supposed to be her mission, her first in fact with her having such a title. A title she’d been working to all her life. A title she screwed people over in 15 different way. A title she had poured her blood, sweat and tears (when she was younger, the Black Widow doesn’t cry) for. Something she knew she’d never screw up. Something she couldn’t screw up.

Yet she did. All because of that useless, excruciatingly painful emotion.

Love had been her downfall, because she underestimated its power.

It was no excuse, Natasha was weak against it. She hadn’t been prepared, and that wasn’t on the Director or the trainers she’d killed. It was solely on herself, she owned up to it. But she would never be more powerful than love, it just didn’t seem possible.

It started on a joint mission between the Red Room and Hydra. She didn’t remember the mission, only her partner. That probably was a problem, but she never was too worried about it. Her Partner  was caught under the same deadly trance she was, so she could barely blame him for not being as strong as the haze.

Before then she was the top student in the red room, if there had been any respect to students she would most certainly have it before that mission. Her partner was an enhanced American soldier who she knew nothing else more than what she was told. Turns out they weren’t lying when they said that he knew just as much as her. He didn’t even know his own name.

They both only knew his mission. Their mission.

It lasted months. Months of staying in close proximity to one another. Months of training in secret in deep dark forests under the moonlight and starless skies. Months of sharing one small dirty room with only one bed. Months of fighting, eating and living together. They were never apart for more than 3 hours. By week 3 they were nearly inseparable, whereas the weeks before they’d want their own space.

At first they didn’t talk much, just clarification on the mission given. You never knew who could be listening. Slowly throughout their training sessions under the moonlight in the forests they started talking in short bursts. Commenting on a punch, scoffing at a missed kick. Never was so much emotion displayed, and it surprised them both. Neither of them were talkers, and even if they were they didn’t have much to talk about. Their lives were pretty straight forward, at least her’s was. They had no dreams, their superiors made sure to crush any of those early on in their trainings. They had no preferences, as they were soldiers and soldiers don’t complain about trivial things that do not compromise the mission. Their focus was only their missions. But somehow they managed to do find something to scrounge up, hidden deep within the recess of their minds. A real genuine preference, and not a persona created to lure enemies into a false trap.

They took comfort in each others words and presence. Natasha has never been this close to another human being and she found the times when he was away to be so lonely. It was stupid. But that feeling of emptiness was almost too much for her to bare alone.

She hated the feeling. Even if she was used to it, it was never like this. Never amplified to this magnitude. She had been trained to be independent on other people, especially men. She could take care of herself and her feminine woes were just a ruse to trick enemies into a false sense of security.

Then again she never felt the way she did now around anyone else, including the dull men that flashed briefly in her life.

And apparently he reciprocated the feelings.

It was only once and no one was supposed to find out. How could they? It was just a taste of what love felt like, how could it have been so wrong if it felt so right at the time. If there was no evidence, how could they be blamed?

At least, there was supposed to be no evidence.

The mission ended and he had to go. She hated seeing him leave but said nothing of it as he gave her one last indifferent look when he was escorted out. He had no choice. She was a soldier. She had no attachments.

At least, that was how it was supposed to be.

The feeling of loneliness ate her more than anything. It was more painful than the worst torture.She was sure it was a form of torture. Torture that ripped her heart and gnawed on her insides. Torture that made it feel like she couldn’t breathe sometimes. SHe begged her emotions to stop killing her. She vowed never to love again, but it didn’t go away. It just dulled overtime, and even when dulled it was more painful to think about. She never wanted to love another being so long as she lived.

Then she started to get sick.

OoOoO

Present…

They didn’t apologize the next time Peter was with them.

Peter just got a text on his beat up, cracked, untraceable burner phone (ha, in your face Nick, he’s Gen Z the superior in every way in technology generation, who used the greatest creation of all mankind for memes) from Fury saying that they needed help downtown.

He rolled his eyes and patched in his comm. Even if he really shouldn’t do this. Even if he wasn’t ready to see the Avengers, much less think of them with getting a wave of nausea and panic.But…. people needed help, and Peter would be damned if he let the fucking Avengers break down his self esteem so much he couldn't help.

So fuck it.

But did Fury always have to tell him so fucking late? He knew he probably would’ve shown up anyways, he probably would have if he weren’t swinging on the other side of New York with his earbuds in, looking specifically away from the giant squid monster attacking Manhattan. He just had to finish this one mugger off with a little note and gift wrapped in webs for the cops. He made a bow and everything, he even went to get new sharpies, so he was going to take his time breaking this one out. It was fluorescent purple, can you believe it? They had that! And Wade had already called dibs on the pink that came with it, but Peter didn’t know why Wade would need it. Whenever Deadpool left a note, usually to Peter and Matt if he wasn’t home to feed his cat, he left it in bright red crayon, and not the stupid cheap Craze-Art shit, no deadpool was a hardened serious man, he was ex special forces and he had been through the worst kind of hell to get his powers, he used fucking Crayola damnit.

But if Peter were here to talk about the proper purchasing of children’s school supplies he’d be here all day with this mugger dude who was about to knife this poor woman. One life saving emergency at a time please. Aliens will just have to get in line, thank you for shopping Le Beat Down De Spidey , have a nice day.

He didn’t say anything to them as he joined the fray and they didn’t notice he was there until he kicked a mini squid (whom was created out of the mommy squids suction thingy, like talk about independent labor but gross) from nearly killing Falcon by laser shooting him (seriously? When can squids laser shoot with their fucking tentacles?)  and said “Welcome to Chiles!”. Sam’s surprised face was priceless and he laughed at it. That’s why he wore the mask, because they couldn’t see his facial expressions and look like a fucking idiot. - he says as he trapezes in with his bright red and blue spandex.

Pretend like nothing ever happened.

“ Spiderman?”

Pretend like you’re okay.

“Hey kid.”

Like you always do.

“What’s up?”

“ Yeah sorry I’m late. Fury didn’t send the e-vite in time.” He said, a bit too quickly but he didn’t care. They seemed weird too, much more gentle than last time. Maybe Fury told them about your tender tummy . He growled at the voice snickering, but not enough so that the Avengers could pick it up on the comm. “I think I was on an auxiliary guest list.” He and that voice are going to have words. Then he might have words with Fury too, he wasn’t some whiny kid who got bent out of shape cause of a bad day.

It had just been… a lot that day.

“About time.” Natasha said. Ahhh, there was the judgy voice of grown up lecture, yeah missed you there for a second. Welcome back to reality bitch. He honestly didn’t want a lecture, he just wanted to mute the comms and continue with his day. But at least they weren’t pitying him. Or at least Black Widow wasn’t. He could always count on her for a consistent message of ‘I hate you’.

“Flank left.” There were more mini squidy that-is-not-proper-squid-birth-procedure-but-go-off-i-guess thingies on the right. Goddammit, they couldn’t see from down there, and there were still people in the way. They were gonna get hurt, but Peter was gonna get yelled at. Peter went right, obviously. His logic was flawless: fuck it. He was gonna get yelled at anyway, if last time was anything to go by. He shouldn’t change his whole dynamic that he had going on with the Avengers. That was like a one night stand kind of thing, not that Peter knew what a one night stand really was, not intimately. But he didn’t know what sex was like romantically and you know consensually . Okay, he was way too pumped on adrenaline for this conversation to be happening with himself, the point was: listening to the Avengers against his better judgement was a one time thing. One and done. That’s all those ungrateful bastards got.

That’s what Fury wants you to think rationally not out of spite, go left. Listen to them.

…

Yeah, so...go right, right?

Heh, homonyms.

“What the hell!”

“Not again.”

“Stupid kid, the fight’s this way.”

No it’s not. Peter rolled his eyes, as he connected his foot with a squishy sploching-he believes the proper term is ‘ squelch’- sound so it made a loud noise for emphasis- even if iky black ink went everywhere, gross! He heard muffles and growls and groans and smiled to himself at the chaos he had caused.

“‘Mmmmm watcha saaayy~”

“Tell us next time!”

Peter couldn’t really find it in himself to give a single shit about the Avenger’s preferences.

All felt right with the world once more.

OoOoO

Fury didn’t go easy on him, like the Avengers.

Fucking bastard didn’t have enough of a soul to feel guilty. He was perpetually pissed and irritated. Those were his only two emotions, Peter would bet all his money (no he wouldn’t he was much more responsible than that, he’d bet all his monopoly money) that those were the only two emotions Fury had ever experienced. Ever. It was a cycle. Peter sometimes wonders how fucked up your life had to be to get that way. Peter had asked and Fury had stormed away irritably. It was truly inspiring.

But as much as he looked up to the old grump and aspired to be as get-off-my-lawn-y as Nicholas J Fury, he would never, in the history of ever give him his secrets.

“Saw your work with Deadpool and Daredevil yesterday.” Fury started off and Peter just kept a blank face. A face that said ‘we are really doing this’, come on Nick, at least try to be subtle about it. Peter was actually  surprised he had the balls to even touch this subject, especially after all that shit that happened not even three days ago. He wasn’t gonna out his team, or at least the closest thing he’s got to one. The preferred term was ‘band/bunch/gang/cult/what-have-you of assholes’ but that was just a recommendation. They also were considered ‘bastards’.

“They are unstable assholes.” he gave a grin and balanced on the balls of his feet. “And as long as they don’t wanna see you, you ain’t seein’ them.” he laughed at their confused faces, but Peter didn’t know why they were confused. He may have jumbled the words up, but he thinks he was pretty straight forward. He was never good on delivery.

“Yet...you fight with them?” Clint asked with a quirked a suspiciously suspicious brow. What did they care who he hung out with in his free time anyway, it wasn’t like they were his goddamn guardians.

“Deadpool kills.” Natasha started with a bit of venom in her tone. Bold of you to assume we all don’t kill.

“And isn’t Daredevil a bit violent?” Tony asked, but Peter could tell by the tone of his voice he was in fact stating as well.

Well shit .

Whomst the fuck did they think they were to judge? It’s not like this is a peaceful line of work, in fact the Avengers were only known for hitting their problems into the ground so hard they’d never see the light of day and not being good at negotiating any other way, shape or form. They had a freaking Hulk for crying out loud and they weren’t afraid to use him to destroy the city at a pin drop -even if Peter thought he was one of the most valid of all the Avengers, and yes that included Bruce separately- and he didn’t think that was an orthodox or civil debating method, but it sure as hell worked. So what if a few people died, yeah sure it’s not ideal but if they were bad guys it should at least soften the blow. Plus at least they wouldn’t hurt anyone else. And it’s not like Peter didn’t feel a shot ton of guilt on his shoulders afterward.

“Yeah.” Peter shrugged. Fury sighed like it was the millionth time.  He knew prying information out of Peter was impossible, or at least he should know that. Peter may not have been known for his interrogation techniques, but he did make his tormentor’s lives hell when he was interrogated. It was cute how Nick tried though.

“ Why ?” he asked very demandingly and tiredly. Peter didn’t like the tone, but smiled regardless. Knowing he wouldn’t give anything away.

“Gonna have to be more specific on that one.” Peter said lightly and Friy groaned and rubbed his temples in annoyance.

“For the love of all things holy-“ Fury muttered to himself as Peter’s smile grew “ Why do you fight with them?” He said in a voice that was very specific, Peter would’ve complimented him on it, but he choose not to and give Fury this one. He just hoped that Fury knows he could’ve been a hell of a lot more annoying and this was an offering of god send and pity - and mostly because he was way too tired to actually keep this conversation going on for a while.

“They don’t tell me what to do.” he stated like it was obvious, in his ,what he liked to call, ’teenager voice’ . It elicited the typical kind of response he’d expect from responsible people like the Avengers and the thing Peter thrived off of. Exasperation and annoyance.

You know the good stuff.

“I bet you love that.” Cap grumbled and Peter barked out an unexpected but not unwarranted laugh, cause he actually got Captain America annoyed with him. This was fucking amazing. MJ would be so proud of him-...

If she was here. Shut up.

“Yeah, I do.” he laughed, ignoring his voices and gross emotions. Steve growled and Peter tried to stifle his giggles and focus on the fact that he was in the present and forget about his past. Pretending works . “I got you mad. Holy shit, like I haven’t done that to you yet. Everyone else? Yeah, sure they’re easy. But you? This is amazing.”

“Parker!” Fury barked and Peter choked on his laugh and stood on alert snapping his head to Fury. Way to suck the fun out of it, Nick . He deflated.

“Yeah, erm...sorry… but like… there was this guy and he stole something.” Peter mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Evading was one of his specialties, but when that wouldn’t work (ie when a bunch of scary Avengers were getting pissed off at him and he didn’t feel like fighting them) he could always be elusive. Fury was actually really good at taking a hint and dropping the subject, letting him figure it out on his own. Trusting him. Which was stupid, he’d let Nick down eventually. It was just a matter of time. But Peter always managed to get out of situations far more dangerous or worse than whatever Nick thought of before. He always got the job done, no matter who or what he was working with, even if it was all by himself. Especially when by himself.

Not this time apparently.

It was a matter of time.

“What?” Fury grounded out, prying everything out of him was a pain, he knew. It’s why Fury didn’t do it often. And Peter gave kudos that he’s stuck it or this long without murdering him. But Peter wondered why he was doing it now. It’s very hard to be this annoying, Nick, please appreciate the effort. Condolences include, dropping the fucking conversation .

“Kids...from Afghanistan…” Peter said in a quick mumble, he didn’t know why he was self conscious about it. Or maybe he did, it was because he’d handled these kind of things a million and twenty two times before and Fury never said anything before, and there was literally no reason he should now.

Except for puking when you were on the phone with him.

“Kids?” Fury asked like he was saying ‘really?’ And okay, maybe ‘stealing kids’ is a bit of a big problem and maybe that was just a weird way to say kidnapping, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. And he wasn’t lying. He didn’t look at any of the Avengers reaction, instead Peter looked Fury dead in the eye as everyone stood up straighter.

“And their puppies…” Fury looked down right murderous at the addition. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the situation or how Peter made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Again with the fucking dogs?!-” Fury said like he couldn’t believe how blatant Peter was with this. But the novelty of child trafficking (which Peter did not tell them about) had worn off Peter long ago. Probably when he himself was basically trafficked because he wasn’t found in America but in Russia.

“They were puppies ! Small children dogs and they were mutts and they were soooo cute! Rottweiler and German Shepherd, I’m like 95% sure! A kid even let me pet one, and then guess what? I got to pet it ! It was the best thing I’ve done in my entire life!” Peter said emphasizing his point by waving his arms up and down and ending in a satisfied cross and nodded his head approvingly. Like he just stated the most amazing reason to live.

To him, it probably was.

No, it was. Most definitely 100 percent was.  

“Oh so your superhero criteria was met?” Fury said in an heavily sarcastic voice, now that he knew everyone got out okay (Peter was honestly insulted that Fury ever doubted he would let those kids and dogs down) that was not meant to be answered back to. Parker answered anyway.

“Yes!”

God this kid!

OoOoO

15 years earlier…

Love worked her way into life again.

But instead of a ruthless man with no clue about his past, it came in the form of a mini version of said man. Needless to say, the director was furious upon seeing her child.

Even as Her honor and respect was stripped. Even as she was looked on in disgust. Even as her child (she had a fucking kid, oh my god she was a mother). She couldn’t find it in herself to care.

She never had a choice before, to have a child or not. In fact upon imitation as a Black Widow- as the black widow- she was opposed to be sterilized. She was going to be, after her vital mission. Nd when they found out she was pregnant she was supposed to get an abortion. But she argued -stupidly set herself up, and fucking argued with her superior about a dumb mistake she made- that she never had disobey anything she was told to do before. Anything to keep her child- she had no idea why she wanted to keep the kid, she didn’t even know what a mother does. The director looked affronted and just as astonished as she was when she spoke out, the disgusted looks turned to shock then turned to sneers.

She couldn’t care less about what they thought, in light of what her lover and her child thought -oh my god what would her child think of her. Not when she was looking at her baby. A baby made by love. Her love. A child made by warm love and not by cold necessity. Something that she thought was impossible. For her at least.

Pytor Romonov

The director wanted to get rid of it, of him. She had glared and held the child close to her chest and refused to give him up, even as her boss made to grab him right from her hands. She would not let him go, not as she did with her partner. She would beg this time if she had to, and Natasha has never begged a second in her life. Not even thought about it. But she was willing to cast all her beliefs for this tiny human being that she had created.

Her son.

That was when the doctor dared -stupidly, probably just a little more stupid than her- to speak out. Telling the director that he could be used, be trained and used for the red room. It was after all, the biological child of two enhanced individuals. That hasn’t been tested before that any of them know of. He could be the first child that grew up on all pillars in the red room, no outside connections. No other purpose except be loyal to the red room.

The doctor didn’t do out of the kindness of his heart. His yellow teeth smiled when the director approved albeit reluctantly. He did it because he was sick and wanted to run tests. Wanted to strap him to a cold metal table and experiment on him. Wanted to cut open her child and dissect him like a frog.

She thanked that doctor once.

They trained her like a dog after that. Tedious and demeaning things that were meant for the children, but cranked up to a level where it would be taxing. Not stopping and relentless. She barely had time to breathe, and sweat was her constant companion. They beat her and worked her and tortured her body over and over.

But at the end of the night, when dawn was just peeking over and she was sent to sleep for a few hours. That was when she finally go to see him, her precious baby Petya, she’d do it again. It was worth it.

He was worth it.

The next three years of watching him grow and walk and speak in the three different languages she taught him. He watched her train but did Not fight, not yet. Her child was smart, smarter than most children, and quiet. And even if he was still a toddler he’d already developed a personality, one that wasn’t cold or heartless, but warm and compassionate.

She knew that the first night she came in and he was awake and reaching for her, at first she thought he wanted something, but his diaper was clean and all he wanted was for her to lay down with him and cuddle.

It melted her heart and made her love him more, and she didn’t think that was possible.

He progressed much faster and adapted much quicker to his lessons than any of them thought he would. For that she was grateful. The director was somewhat pleased.

She loved her little Petya. With everything she had.

He made it easy to love.

And then that love was ripped away by cold heartless hands. The same heartless hands that ripped his father away. In a cruel twist of fate and a decision just as sudden as Natasha’s love for her son.

The worst part wasn’t that she could fight back, because she had tried. The worst part was how she couldn’t fight. How She could do nothing but watch as she was strapped to the chair and watched them knock Pytor out and carry him to she not know where.

She was again experience of the worst feeling in the world as for the second time in her life, Natasha cried for the first time since she could remember. She hadn’t done enough to keep her love and let it slip through her fingers again.

She hated love. She hated it so much.

OoOoO

Present…

Natasha didn’t not like the kid.

He wasn’t a bad kid at all. Snarky and a little sassy, but not a bad kid- those were probably the funniest traits about him, and she has always had a thing about deceiving looks. In fact he seemed more sweet than anything, the Avengers just happen to be on his bad side all the time, or at least when he was incredibly tired - seriously kid should get some sleep. But if you help old ladies cross the street with your super abilities, and go out of your way to get a cat out of a tree, how bad can you possibly be?

She knew she was off putting to him. She snapped at him, though not as much as Steve did, whenever he got too close. She was keeping him at arms distance, because he was 15 and had no business being around this kind of shit. Though he got that a lot, but only because it was true. Even so she could tell he was sick of it, no matter how much he tried to ignore it or roll with it or make it seem like it didn’t get to it. A good defense mechanism that she wished she had when she was younger too, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. It must have been especially so when he was reprimanded for doing a good job. She was getting annoyed with it a little too.

But…he reminded her of Petya a little. Even their names were similar.  

Petya would’ve been 15 too…

She thought that she had to keep him at arm's length, because as she said before, the kid had more than two brain cells. He was perceptive, way more than he let on. It’s not like he tried to hide it, but he didn’t necessarily advertise it. It also wasn’t obvious with him. So she reprimanded him more than he deserved, because she was playing the same game as him:

Pretending nothing is wrong.

Sometimes she wondered if Petya was Peter would he be using his powers for good? Or would he be using them for HYDRA? Would he kill people like she did, or would he try to save as many people as Peter? Would he do the right thing, even if it meant he disobeyed orders? Would he be free to choose what he wanted to do?

The more Natasha thought about it, the more like Peter she wanted Petya to be. She wanted her child to be exactly like Peter, but that wasn’t fair. What if Petya was lost, or different. She would love Petya anyway, but when she imagined him, she imagined Peter.

Maybe it was the name. Or maybe it was the superpowers or mysterious background. She didn’t know, because she didn’t feel like this when she had met Harley. But she knew things about Harley. She never dig into Peter's past, even if she could find anything out she wouldn’t want to. Because the less she knew about Peter the more she could pretend he was Petya.

Then she got so mad, because Peter wasn’t Petya, but some maternal thing inside of her didn’t want Peter to get hurt either. Because Peter was perfect, she didn’t know how Petya would be yet, but she knew he’d be perfect too. That Petya would expose Peter’s flaws and free her from the cage that was Peter Parker. She could go on and find out about his entire life and pick it apart just like she was supposed to.

For now, she’d get mad at herself for not letting herself get attached to the boy. It also meant she had to prove it too, by being mean and cold. Not helping him when he seemed like a kicked puppy, and if she found an opportunity, kicking him even more. It was messed up logic, twisted so it made sense but the longer she thought about it, the more her head would hurt. The more regret and remorse she would feel because Peter was just a kid . He wasn’t supposed to know where child traffickers did the most business or murderers laid low or super villains evil layers were. But he did, and somehow it seemed like too much for him to put Natasha’s weird emotions about her probably dead son on top of all of that. He already seemed to hate his own emotions, why would she want to deal with hers?

She didn’t like it. She knew what she was about to do. Peter has had a lot of things piled on top of him lately and Natasha can see  it, he doesn’t sleep and he is getting skinnier and slouching more. His quips are a smidge too dry and his timing is all off. He’s tired and doesn’t need anymore stress. But she had to do it.

“You should have reported it. Human trafficking is way too dangerous for you.” Natasha sneered. He reminded her of what she lost, somewhere inside of her she knew it was unfair and unnecessarily cruel to Parker. She’s glad Peter is as strong as he is. He didn’t deserve the hate that was boiling inside of her. Somehow it was easier to take it out on him, maybe because she knew he can take it and won’t be offended. Somehow he never got so offended. Or maybe he was offended, but he was very understanding. She had seen him take Steve’s heat about fucking seatbelts because the Captain was having a bad day. But she didn’t think the same method applied to favors. She really didn’t want to owe him, not when she already owed him so much, but she would do it anyway.

For Petya.

Fury had sent her to the docks to deal with a situation, but when she got there, the police were there and Social Services too. The guns were scattered everywhere and the dealers were... webbed. Anger boiled up inside of her, for the kid to be so reckless when she needed him. He was going to ruin everything . He couldn’t die. Not with Petya still missing.

She found Spider-Man on a rooftop exactly 1000 meters away, on top of a roof where the police couldn’t see him but he could see them. His suit was a bit scrunched and dirty, but he looked otherwise unharmed. Just a little tired. He was probably more tired and banged up than he let on. Natasha had to force herself not to care. Peter had to take care of himself if he was going to live in the world he wanted to.

But what if he doesn’t want to.

He noticed her as soon as she stepped on the roof though. Snapping his head toward her, mask still in place. Her hands were on her hips. He looked confused as to why she was here. She looked like she wanted an explanation. And to get rid of that stupid mask, it was harder to read him with it on.

“Can I help you?” he asked as he looked up, not bothering standing up. His voice was a bit out of breath and wheezy. But otherwise gave nothing away. She didn’t mean to get so frustrated with him.

“Why are you so-” she groaned into her hand and he laughed and took off the mask. His face was pale and eyes tired, but they held a childish amusement in them. He contrasted himself with his actions and words and Natasha didn’t know which one was genuine most of the time. It always alternated.

“Insufferable?” he asked with mirth as he turned to face her. She glared at his sly smile, he analyzed her for a minute, mischievous sparkle never leaving his eyes. Any other person would’ve missed the tense in his shoulders, as if he already knew what she was going to ask “I have a theory about you.” He said instead of following through with his hunch. Natasha could tell he was letting this play out.

Way more than two brain cells. Smart kid.

“I don’t want to hear it.” she said not amusedly. She was trying to ask a professional favor here, but at the same time, she needed this conversation to play out his way. Remind herself that he was a kid and he he needed some control if he wasn’t going to half ass this.

“I think you do.” he said, his tone dropping the lightness in it. It wasn’t that much of a contrast as she had thought it would be. “I think you don’t hate me, like you try to.” Peter said and cocked his head at her “and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why you do that.”

“I don’t try to hate you.” Natasha said astounded but at the same time not that surprised. She let herself feel a little bad at the kicked puppy look he flashed across his face before it settled into a neutral look.

“Yes you do.” he said like it wasn’t a big deal, but a little sadness and disappointment leaked into his voice. It made something in her chest constrict painfully. “I remind you of someone, don’t I?” he asked more in a mumble. She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach.

“No yo-”

“Yes I do. It took me a while to figure it out, but I know I do.” he said jumping up and walking over the the ledge. Her eyes followed his back. She let herself analyze him, it didn’t take her long to figure out he had this conversation before. He had lost someone like this before. He understood that he would never understand what her pain was like, and it was honestly more comforting than if he did know what she felt like. At the same time it was the most heartbreaking thing she’s ever seen. He just seemed so...tired of it. “And isn’t it weird that you remind me of someone too?” he asked. That caught her a bit off guard.

“You’re crossing a line, asshole.” she growled out, she hadn’t meant to be so mean to him, but she doesn’t know how to feel about what he said. He looked back with large brown eyes, widening in something only a child could muster.

“So I am right!” he said with a little laugh, it made her mad because this was supposed to be serious. “If I wasn’t there would be no line to cross!” There was silence on the rooftop for a while. This conversation was progressing too fast, but she didn’t know the proper way to bring up ‘help me find my lost son that you remind me of even though I’ve never met him’.

Natasha shifted and he gestured for her to sit next to him. She approached slowly but confidently and sat next him but didn’t look at his face. More silence as the sun went down and the sky was a burnt orange. Until he spoke again. “Did you not like the person I remind you of?” He said it softly, gently. Not carefully, but comfortingly. Reminding her that he wasn’t the same person she wanted him to be. She didn’t answer for a while. She didn’t think she would, until she did.

“No, I loved him with everything I had.” she answered honestly. He nodded, but didn’t face her. “How about you?” it was only fair that he answer her honestly, after she did.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I hated her.” Peter said, and seemed like he was contemplating how to explain it. Or he just didn’t know how to explain it. It was okay if he didn’t, because she didn’t know how to explain hers either. She didn’t expect him to continue, but he did. “No, I’m sure I didn’t. I can’t remember her all the way, but I think… I was too young to remember her face, but I think it was my mom.” Peter whispered. Natasha snapped her head toward him, Peter shrunk in on himself almost self consciously, something he never let himself do. He looked guilty like he shouldn’t have said that,he probably shouldn’t have, but he did look lighter somehow. Then he started to stutter with fire red blush painted across his cheeks.“Oh my god, Ms.Romanov. I’m sorry. That was-that was weird. I- I know your not my mom, but like-”

“You remind me of my son.” she said, and didn’t know why she didn’t hide the small smile as his mouth clamped shut and he looked at her with that confused puppy look again. She didn’t know why she said it. She wasn’t supposed to say it. Not like that anyway. She made sure her face gave nothing away, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it.

“You-You’re son?” he whispered in a hoarse voice more to himself, almost as if It was painful to say. He was calculating whether or not that had been in something he read or heard or something . He was working something out in his head but kept coming up blank because He seemed confused. she expected questions. He didn’t ask them though. She was oddly grateful for that. “I won’t tell anyone.” he said instead. If she could be anymore grateful to the kid, she would be. She didn’t even have to threaten him to keep his mouth shut. He knew exactly the right thing to say. He didn’t owe her a damn thing and yet he was keeping this, something if their roles were reversed in a weird way she wouldn’t hesitate to expose him for.

He also seemed to understand her request, though he didn’t nod or make any indication that he knew what she was going to ask. Somehow he knew what she wanted and somehow she knew he was fully invested in this.

If anyone could find Petya, it was Peter Parker.

OoOoO

Harley Keener was Tony Stark’s adopted son.

Peter knew that. Everyone knew that. You’d have to live in Antarctica not to know that. Peter didn’t like keeping up with superhero news anymore, it was kinda useless now that he worked with them - he wasn’t actually one of them - because he could always get it faster with hacking- because no way in hell they would tell a ‘stupid kid’  all their deep dark and dirty secrets. Plus tabloids never had anything good to say about him when he did come up. He didn’t need the extra negativity. If he needed to know something, he’d know it soon enough. Simple as that. Peter never went digging for information that he didn’t know he needed.

But that doesn’t mean that Peter doesn’t have a mental file of Harley Keener. No way in hell would he ever write this shit down. And the only reason he made a mental file for him, was because he wasn’t a superhero but a kid and a big target.

The things he knew about Harley Keener before meeting Harley Keener states as:

• Harley Keener had saved Ironman with the Mandarin thing.
• Harley Keener had a sister, who had went with his mother god knows where, leaving him behind in his little shack in Rose Hill Tennessee (this is why you don’t live in the fucking country).
• Harley Keener was noted as a kid genius.
• Harley Keener was 8 months older than him.
• Harley Keener started going to Midtown Science and Technology the year after Peter graduated from the same high school.
• Harley Keener’s best friends were Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones, who were interns at Stark industries (Michelle for Pepper Potts and Ned for R&D, they were smart he was so fucking proud of them).
• Harley Keener did not like Pineapple on Pizza( don’t even ask him how he knew that one, it just happened)

Despite knowing all these things, he’d never actually met Harley Keener. Tony was too paranoid or something to bring the kid around the Avengers -or at least him, because the Avengers seemed to adore Harley. But apparently wasn’t too paranoid to talk about him all the time ( was that what a good father sounded like? That seems fucking annoying.). He got that he was a wildcard, and he didn’t really do ‘personal’, especially with the Avengers( Even though it’s been a fucking year, seriously they just need to be adults and suck it the fuck up. Peter has gotten over it ages ago). It made sense that he’d never met Harley, and it would make sense to expect never to meet him because Peter didn’t want to get ‘personal’ with the Avengers.

Until today, apparently.

Fury said he needed something and didn’t trust Peter alone( at least in Avengers Tower, which...okay that’s fair). Then they bumped into Pepper Potts and she fucking beamed at Peter and started talking to him. Like, a normal human. Like with no screaming or yelling. Which was a surprise, because people usually just ignored him if they didn’t yell at him.

She was nice, and not a lot of people were nice to Peter these days. She asked if he wanted to join the Avengers for dinner, and he didn’t quite know how to respond. It all escalated rather quickly for his liking and he ended up being embarrassed somehow and slipping up that he wasn’t actually planning on eating dinner. He didn’t know how it ducking happened but Fury was having a fucking field day at his fiddling. That asshole.

He ended up going, because he was nice (no shut the fuck up Fury, he he was) despite everything anyone had ever said... ever. Plus he was a little hungry…

Okay, He May or may not have remembered the last time he’d eaten, and he may or may not know that he hadn’t made his shift at Saint Margrets in like forever. Weasel usually wasn’t too picky about good help, Peter would usually just show up work and get paid. There was no schedule, Weasel understood that he didn’t have time for this ‘stable life’ crap but still had to eat somehow. He doubted he could find a job that would pay for food and shit because he was fucking 15.

“Bye kid, have fun.” Peter has never seen Fury look so happy in his life. He was wiggling his fingers and acting like a smug school girl. Peter let his mind replace Fury in a blonde wig and acting like he was in Mean Girls (he and MJ used to love making fun and criticize and compare that movie) and he let that disturbing image entertain him all the way to the common room.

Asshole fucking deserved it.

Peter wasn’t uncomfortable about his body, he in fact knew he was very skinny. And even if he doesn’t prefer people hassling him about what kind of shit he put into his body and how much of said shit he consumed, he didn’t stop eating because those assholes can’t mind their own fucking business. Peter always avoided eating with the Avengers for a very, very good reason and it was not any of those:

They didn’t like him.

They always invited him out of courtesy before, but he never accepted cause he was sure they didn’t want him there. He kept declining and the stopped asking, rather quickly if he does say so himself.

They didn’t want to get close to a reckless vigilante and frankly he didn’t want them to. Although no one has ever gotten that close. Not even May. He never let them get that close, because he never liked the baggage he had to unpack when they did. It was a hassle to talk about and a hassle to figure out his emotions after they left.

They always leave.

Plus they’d probably insult and interrogate him. He didn’t like that. And he didn’t want to be yelled at longer than strictly necessary (even though he could just never go on Avengers missions, but he needed someone to yell at him sometimes and May and Ben weren’t alive enough to do it anymore). Cause even if the Avengers didn’t care, they were nosy about unknown entities. Peter was, in fact, one of such unknown entity. He took pride in it thankyouverymuch.

But Pepper was assertive but nice and no one was ever nice to him. There was no saying no to her. Not that Peter didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to. People were always just assertive and mean and told him that he was too young to talk back (how was ratifying your very solid argument ‘ talking back’ that was just a grown ups BS  about being wrong). He also figured Pepper Potts wouldn’t take no for an answer, and he was too tired to deal with much right now.

He’d suck it up for Pepper. He always had exceptions.

We freaking went over this, Parker.

He knows that but...

The elevator doors opened and he was assaulted with the greasy smell of pizza and cannolis and pasta and soda and wine and alcohol. He wanted to run away, it smelt so good, probably because he was so hungry . How did he not notice it was this bad?

Everyone was in sweats and comfortable clothes. Peter was in an oversized sweatshirt with faded letters and his grimy bloody suit was on underneath. His torn, tattered converse barley held together by silver peeling duck tape and his equally tattered bag didn’t stand a chance. Needless to say, he was very out of his element. It was like Pepper took in a stray cat just to feed and throw it back on the street. Actually, that was exactly what this was. He was a fucking spider dammit, not a kitten.

Wear red to cover the blood.

It was different from how Team Red celebrated big successes. It usually consisted of bad liquor (not that Peter would know he didn’t drink) and bar hopping(he’d eat the fries and laugh at his drunk teammates). Singing bad karaoke when Matt and Wade got drunk enough and then dragging them back to Wade’s flat to crash and maybe watch a movie with too many blankets and pillows.

Suffice to say, it was way different. And Peter preferred it, honestly. It was more… low key and not giving him anxiety about...things (prices, amount of leftover, how much time to get to the port, escape routes,etc.)

“Hey honey.” Tony smiled and walked over with a glass of champagne in his hand. He stopped when he saw Peter hiding behind her a little looking at him with big eyes. The eyes he used when he didn’t know how to feel and wanted someone to tell him what to do, and that didn’t happen often. “What did you bring the bug in for?” Peter felt disappointment and another nasty emotion sink into his bones. He wanted to leave. He had to deal with this in the field, there was no way in hell he was gonna deal with it more than he had to.

But Pepper is so nice to you…

...

Fuck!

“Tony,” Pepper said in a way that made even Peter scared and afraid to disobey. “ Peter,” he winced at the mention of his emphasized name. ‘ it’s actually pronounced… ‘ nope we’re not going there. Not now . Not fucking here.“ is here because you should get to know him. He has been going on missions with you for a little more than a year now, and you know next to nothing about him.”

Good . He didn’t want them to. Please don’t ruin this.

Tony scoffed. “He’s like 7, how complicated could he be?” Peter looked slightly affronted, but hunched in on himself anyway. Did this man, this tiny man, just question his origin story? What the actual fuck? This was a fucking declaration of war.

I think I’ve been through enough thank you very much.

Matt always said he had great manners.

“I’m 15.” he mumbled on instinct and then felt dread run though him as he noticed the tangible silence and flet all eyes on him. God he hadn’t meant to draw attention to that. He hadn’t meant to speak. It was suffocating and he shifted a little, never looking up from in between his converse.

“Great!” Pepper said happily and clapped her hands happily, dispelling some tension. Peter fucking whirled at the topic change and tone. Boy, being nice to was so whack . He couldn’t admit that he liked it, want was a dangerous thing for him to have. “That’s nearly Harley’s age.” Tony actually did cough on his champagne and Pepper plucked it out of his hands and took a sip, like the fucking boss she was. Peter has a bad feeling in his gut.

She wasn’t… no that was her son. She was nice but she would never make him-... no. Would she? …. no...just….no

No!

“Ms.Potts, I don’t think-” Peter timid voice was cut off by Pepper addressing the ceiling. Of course, he didn’t get a say.

You never do.

Peter Parker? Opinions?? Being Valid??? Not in this economy. You know why? Because this economy hated mutants and hated kids and fucking sucked to live in when you are doing blue collar jobs on and off with an enhanced metabolism.

That’s why.

“FRIDAY can you bring Harley down for dinner.” she said sweetly, like venom dipped in honey, and sipped the champagne and looked at Peter with excited eyes. They were almost crazy. Oh god, she did hate him after all. Peter leaned back a little.“You’re gonna love him, although he’s a bit standoffish at first, but I’m sure out two will be good friends.” Peter felt like he was drenched in cold water.

Why even fucking warn him? Why not just throw him at MJ and Ned and reveal his identity? This had bad omens written all over it. This was bad, he had to get out. He already knew who Harley Keener fucking was. He knows who he is. And if he’s good enough to tough out MJ’s standoffish nature, then he was already awesome. Case closed.

He hadn’t had friends since he’d graduated. He couldn’t. It’s not that he didn’t want them, he fucking had the best friends anyone could ask for. He just didn’t want them dragged into these messes he got himself into. These bloody, red messes with too much death and hurt and wounds and scars and death. So no matter how much they called and texted they’d stop eventually. And they had, well sort of. Ned still texted him sometimes. MJ texted once a month...sometimes.

He always read them, never answered.

He didn’t want a new friend. He couldn’t protect him/her. He didn’t know how. He didn’t have the means necessary to have friends that can’t heal from a gunshot wound in one day. No matter how awesome they are, they weren’t mutants (well Matt wasn’t a real mutant, but he was over 18 so he didn’t count). And even if he did, his enemies knew he was dirt poor, he went out in leggings for fucks sake. If they were using a hostage 9 times out of 10 they were probably gonna kill them anyways because they wanted to hurt him . Not just physically, they wanted to play with mind, wanted to break him in every way possible and then some. He could have all the money in the world and it probably wouldn’t matter.

He couldn’t save them. He knew. He tried. It always ended the same way.

He must have zoned out because he was tapped on the shoulder by none other than Harley Keener, who looked more amused at his sudden shock. He didn’t miss Tony whispering something in his ear as he passed. The boy grinned more. Peter felt himself shrink a little, bad feeling only increasing but his spider sense wasn’t going off.

“Come on Spider boy.” he gestured and Peter followed, hands fiddling with his sleeves and eyes looking anywhere but another human being namely one Harley Keener. Spiderman could do this, Peter Parker couldn’t.

Fuck.

They sat down at the counter and Peter tried to ignore the Avengers burning holes in his back through the corners of their eyes, listening into the conversation he was having instead of theirs. They should fuck off!

Be careful. Don’t give anything away. Yeah no shit!

“Harley Keener.” the kid smiled. Peter gave a shy smile back as Keener grabbed a slice of pizza. Peter watched, but made no move for his own. “You hungry?” he asked with a quirked brow. Peter was starving . He had an enhanced metabolism so he was never getting enough food. He shook his head anyway. If he was eating then it’d be harder for him to escape. He knew he’d want more food, but he also knew he needed it and this opportunity would never come again for awhile.

Unless you actually make friends.

“I’ll eat when I get back.” Peter mumbled, putting his head in his crossed arms on the table. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe Harley could take a hint, unlike his parents, and actually fuck off.

“Back where?” Harley asked taking a bit of pizza. Peter made to answer, lifted his head and everything, but found he really didn’t have one. Peter thought about it. He didn’t have a set place to call ‘home’ right now. No one would allow a 15 year old to get an apartment by himself, and even so, he didn’t really have your standard paycheck. What he was currently referring to was Matt’s flat. Matt was always home late and up early. He and Wade let Peter crash on their couches sometimes, and let him pilfer food if he really needed to. But Matt barely had any food and all of Wade’s stuff was expired takeout. If he felt too guilty or neither of them were home, it was a storage box or the couch near the Billiards at Saint Margaret's.

“Good question.” Peter decided to say instead. Ominous. Good. Maybe too good. He knew he had to follow up on that sometime. He dropped his head back in his arms and turned his head to face the other boy.

“Where do you live then?” Harley asked. Okay, so apparently not taking a fucking hint was like inherited. It must be contagious, because the Avengers didn’t back off in the staring. Seriously they should mind their own business.

“Queens.” Peter automatically answered. Cause that’s where he grew up. Like really  grew up, not white picket fence or anything, but it’s where he met his friends, went to school, had fun and all that childhood shit he should have been doing since he was born or something. He was proud of it. Queens that is. Not of his less than spectacular childhood of hell.Queens May be where he was raised, But it’s not where he’s from. It’s that white room.

It will always be apart of you.

“Rose Hill.” Yeah, I know. But he doesn’t know that. “So where do you go to school?” Harley asked. Peter eyes him suspiciously from over his arms.

“These are very standard ‘grown up’ questions.” Peter noted in a suspicious tone and felt the air tense up just like Harley’s shoulders. Oh, this is their attempt? Wow they really sent in a kid to dig up this kind of stuff. Peter smiles, okay he’d bite… just a little “kidding.” He said lightly and Harley hugged out a nervous laugh.

“You joke a lot, huh?” Harley almost accused and Peter gave him a dry stare.

“ well you ask a lot of questions that I don’t like answering.” Peter shrugged and Harley looked baffled for a minute and Peter smiled into his arm.

“I just asked where you lived and go to school.” Harley huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s not a lot.” Peter smirked into his arm more, Harley was making this way too easy.

“That’s exactly what a child predator would say.” Peter smirk grew at Harley’s growing blush and he felt almost proud of his work. He thought Tony would come and take his kid out of the fray but he didn’t.

“I’m a kid too asshole.” Peter quirked a brow at the profanity. “What?” Peter shrugged.

“I didn’t think kids from a place called Rosefield knew that kind of language.” He said in a wistful tone “but I guess Tennessee was a slave state so I really shouldn’t be surprised.” There was a shocked moment before Harley growled at him.

“You know my friend would dunk your head in this pizza if she heard that.” I’m not so sure she would. Who the fuck do you think I got it from? “And you don’t have to be so fucking rude, I’m trying to be nice here!” Harley spat out with venom and Peter smiled a bit more.

“How is stating the fact that your states history in correlation to the country’s, has affected you culture in comparison to your dialect and namesake of your county, rude?” Peter said with a smirk as Harley gaped at him for a moment. Peter rolled his eyes “but sorry if I offended you. That was a very controversial way to bring it up.”

“N-no. It’s...it’s fine… it’s just that hoe she would probably say it too. Sorry for making a big deal of it.” Harley said and Peter actually blinked at him, too stunned by an apology that was so stupid yet, the first he’s heard in a long time.

“I don’t.” Peter said and Harley cocked his head confused as Peter turned his head to look more seriously at him “I wasn’t really good at...school.” He may have graduated but they didn’t need to know he can’t afford to go to college. He knows he sounded like he was a dropout. That’s how he wanted it to sound like. Plus, ever since the powers, people have made him more anxious and he was anxious to begin with. He didn’t want anymore. But he stayed cause it gave May more time to get college funds, even if he insisted he didn’t want to and could go to college when he saved enough. May wouldn’t take that shit.

He hightailed it as soon as May died.

Sorry.

Harley scoffed. Here it came.

“Well I guess it’s either or.” Harley shrugged and Peter wanted to act smug, but he knew he shouldn’t. He wanted to be mad, because they literally Jus t had an academic debate and Peter defused it immediately. He wasn’t brainy but he wasn’t muscly. He wasn’t either or, not that he was both. He wasn’t neither either. He was everything and nothing. He’s exactly what he needs to be. His doesn’t need those mean girl titles.

“I guess.” he said instead. He ignored Tony’s entitled snort.”What about you?” he asked conversationally. He knew the answer though.” It’s that smart kids school in Manhattan, right?”

“Yeah, Midtown.” Harley said and he saw Tony puff out his chest a little in pride. He wished uncle Ben had done that when he got in on a full ride. May secretly bought him icecream that night, so he had nothing to complain about. And the best part was that she got high after he was supposed to go to sleep and not during the ice cream eating. He had been so proud of her that night.

“That’s a good school. Got any friends?” Yeah, your friends you dork.

“Yeah, they’re wicked smart.” I know . “They’ve got internships here. Michelle Jones, and Ned Leeds.” I know.

“Watch out for Flash.” Peter mumbled absently as he lowered his head back down. Harley did a double take.

“What?” he asked surprised. Peter smiled. Oops. At least he said it low enough only for Harley to hear it and not anyone of the Avengers.

“Nothing, just it must be nice to be a school full of nerds, cause like there are no bullies for the nerdy kids.” Peter said and Harley scoffed. Yeah that’s about right. Flash had been tormenting Peter since grade school. Primary school? He thinks it’s called elementary school in America.

“Yeah but there are jerks.” he said back. Peter knew exactly who he was talking about. Flash must’ve moved on to the next kid to get better grades than everyone else. It kinda made him wanna go back and actually punch him like MJ said he would if Flash fucked with him too much.

God he missed them.

“Well there will always be jerks.” Harley scoffed back and looked at his plastic water bottle and Peter continued, never lifting his head and looking exhausted, but he must’ve looked bored. “But they’re just that, jerks, and sometimes they change, just ignore them if they don’t.”

“That what you do?” Harley asked dully and Peter looked up, surprised by the shift in his tone. “Ignore jerks. Like you ignore the Avengers?” Wow, personal much? Calm down there buckaroo.

Also, escalation? Where did that even come from?

“Nah, I just ignore everyone. It’s kinda my thing.” Peter waved off ending the topic, this conversation was getting too personal. And his phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked at it. A text from Wade.

‘Let’s hit some fuckers balls.’ Peter grinned.

“Well, I listen when I feel like it.” he stood up and saluted Harley with a goofy grin. As Harley looked on incredulously. “Sometimes.”

And proceeded to flip out the window.

OoOoO

Wade preferred the term asswipes.

Matt thought it was putting it delicately. Peter couldn’t help but agree, and they promptly dashed the name in favor of motherfucking asswipes. And then they collectively agreed adjectives were the best form of grammar and proceeded to blow up a window.

Team Red had a certain expertise, if you will. Said experitise was made into an art form. That art was their profession. There was a lot of ways to say they had a certain set of skills, but the point should’ve gotten across by now. Said set of skills were dubbed reckless, dangerous, hazardous, suicidal, weird, explosive etc. by the general public. Those set of skills were also particularly useful when busting bad guys that the Avengers or police don’t bother with.

The Avengers and police don’t bother with certain things, like trafficking circles. The police were not cut out for it, but big league superheroes couldn’t be bothered with when saving the world. That’s the grey area where vigilantes like Team Red come in. They were the in between parts that nobody cared about but probably should.

They were currently busting a drug trafficking circle, but the only reason they had even got on it’s trail was because a fucking idiot decided to play with some kids in the wrong way to pass the time in between jobs. That poor, sick son of a bitch. He must’ve been from out of town.

When Spidey decided to swoop in ‘all heroically’- he was not a hero, thankyouverymuch, look in the mirror Wade ‘I’m going to save orphans from a burning building’ Wilson- and the guy ran, all the way back to his little hideout, where he was obviously tracked to. Wow he was like a really bad bad guy. Matt actually laughed when Peter told him he didn’t think anyone followed him. Like come on bro, at least try  to make this challenging.

Peter wouldn’t say it was suspicious though, if there hadn’t been an increase in trafficking, in general and not just drugs that were being trafficked. But the past six months have leaned away from mobsters and now were more into circles like these. He found some ex-mob members joining so quick it was like mobs were out of style now. Wade said they were out like 10 years ago.

Oh well, he couldn’t find any real connections, except for their increase in popularity and honestly Peter’s been going through an existential crisis for the past week and a half. Matt said he should join the club, Wade said that this was his 14th one since he had joined the Avengers. Peter had replied that this one was actually because of the Avengers.

By the end of the night, there were TIME and Science Magazines and Newspaper clippings hung up on a wall that were either burned, punctured, soaking, or drawn on by honestly creative colouring; and Peter was so full of ice cream he felt like he had gained 10 pounds(he did regret it in the morning with an awful stomachache). Who said Team Red couldn’t be petty? They were literally the definition of the word.

“And then he just pushed a damn pizza my way and began to insult me. As if I would take it in stride? As if I was entertained by people unironically roasting me? I mean, I can take a good roast, but like a lecture? From a kid barley 8 months older than me? What the actual fuck! ” Peter vented to the criminal he kept punching into the ground. As if he would have any answers. The guy looked up at him dumbly and he looked so stupid Peter actually laughed. “Do you think that this counts as peer advice or just some entitled spoiled kid being stuck up like his dad? No seriously I need an honest opinion, what do you think?” Peter said seriously and half tooth stammered out an answer.

“I-I th-think he is j-just a k-kid try-trying t-to def-defen-defend his fa-fa-father?” he ended the answer on a high note making it sound like a question, and Peter stopped punching him. He blinked behind his mask and his mask reciprocated  the action. He then cocked his head. His brain malfunctioned for a second and he needed a jump start.

“Explain…” Peter slammed his perp into the wall, probably harder than he needed to. Why did his chest constrict when he said those words? Those awful, bad breath laced words (like seriously buddy would it kill you to pop a mint or two between shots of heroine)? Was it sourcery? No these guys weren’t that stupid to mess with dark magic. Nor were they smart enough to read English, much less an ancient alphabet that was written in a language from another world/galaxy/universe/dimension (take your pick).

“We-well, did-didn’t St-Stark take him o-off the st-streets? Li-like it w-w-would ma-ma-make se-sen-sense that he w-would w-wanna def-defend h-hi-him.” And that, right there. That was a good point. This scumbag, this disgusting, woman...touching-without-consent scumbag, had a fucking point. Peter didn’t get it from a personal experience standpoint, but he got it from a logical- even though emotions aren’t logical, they are just stupid and they hurt- perspective.

From all those fairytales.

‘You’ll never get a family.’

“Huh, never thought of that.” he mumbled in awe. “I mean those weren’t the options, but like option C I guess. I never did make the rules. Thank you. Thy opinion hath been heard.” Peter said as he knocked the guy out. He then yelled to the other two adults. “Guys! Half tooth here helped me figure it out! I think my existential crisis is over!” No it’s not.

Matt scoffed, like the rude shit he was, and then spoke the mother fucking truth “Your life is an existential crisis.”

Then Wade, as the equally rude shit he was as well, spoke another motherfucking truth. “Honey you’ve got a big storm coming.”

Jokes on them though, because Peter already knew that.

OoOoO

“Why would she tell me though?”

“I thought you were smart.” Fury said in a deadpanned tone and Peter groaned and laughed at the same time. It was more of laugh, if you asked Fury. Like he couldn’t believe what had just came out of Fury’s mouth, or he didn’t agree with it. Disbelieving and not at all fit for the situation.

Honestly this entire conversation was unfit for the situation. They were supposed to be on a stake out for a HYDRA base, they were supposed to be stealthy. Honestly, Fury would’ve preferred Romanov or Coulson, hell even Barton, as a stake out partner. But the Avengers has left on a mission, and Coulson was with his team somewhere. Speaking of which, he had an inhuman, Fury said he’d look more into her and some reliable sources to give tips and advice and maybe even training. So maybe this wouldn’t be as much of a bust as he thought it was going to be.

Parker was reliable(sometimes...okay none of the time, but a reliable source is one very good definition for him), and he was a mutant himself. He specializes in picking up clues and going off on a trail with basically a speck of dirt and coming up at the end with a supervillain that had been hiding in the sewers. Plus he had contacts with other unregistered mutants(he wouldn’t give up their names, because despite being loyal, Parker isn’t a snitch and is incredibly loyal). He’d surely know some good sources to help them out.

“That’s your mistake.” Peter said and Fury rolled his eyes. Maybe… he wasn’t such a good idea. I mean he just was the closest mutant to being an Avenger and rejecting them so hard they got pissed off at him. And really, tracking a lizard through New York’s sewer system isn’t that hard...right?

…

Shit.

“You know why Romanov told you.” Fury stated, not looking at Parker “She’s been chasing whispers to find that kid. And you, Parker, are unnaturally good at that.” Peter hummed In confirmation. At least he acknowledged it.

It was true, afterall. Peter was good at chasing literal words and finding out about things that were never meant to be found, and weren’t supposed to be found, especially by a teenage punk in tights. Impossible leads, he figured out in meer seconds. His brain worked even faster than Stark or Banner’s head, but instead of using that for just science, he used it practically. Like Fury wished Stark and Banner used their heads. Romanov was right to recruit him to help her find her kid. Parker was an invaluable asset in that department.

“So she wants me to find her son? I don’t mind helping, but she does know I work alone.” Fury grunted. Of course. How could he forget. Parker wasn’t a good team player. He never shared anything he figured out until after the battle had already been won. For someone who talks so much when he does anything and everything, he never spills any information that was actually useful . But Fury knew his talking was most just for distraction. To distract his opponent and throw them off. Not a lot of people could do that while they were fighting, but it seemed to help the kid focus more.

“She just wants you to follow a lead when she finds one.” Fury said in the same tone he has been using all night, still not looking at the kid “And keep to an eye out. You’re more perceptive than most and constantly taking down international gangs.” Fury said casually.”You hear things people normally wouldn’t.”And that was what made Peter was an invaluable source when chasing a lead. He didn’t just know HYDRA stuff, but also stuff from all sorts of organizations and gangs. He had a complete different set of informants that not even Fury could figure out yet. And those informants had a completely different set of information. Romanov was trying to find a different angle, and Peter was a complete 180 from the leads she was currently going off of.

“That’s good. I like a good puzzle.” Peter said sadly, nodding his head in understanding. “So What do you want?” See perceptive. And fucking terrifying.

“What gave it away?” Fury smirked, not looking at Peter and trying to not let him known he was a bit thrown off. Peter hadn’t been looking at him either. Just straight ahead into the dirty polluted water of the Hudson and not at the base next to them of Fury’s side of the car.

“Everything.” Peter giggled (which, what the actual fuck? Like seriously, this kid was supposed to be Spiderman, andhe fucking giggled) and turned to him with bright eyes. “come on spill.” He said bouncing up a few times before propping his head in his hands. Elbows on the dashboard, and bright excited look in his eye, like a schoolgirl that’s talking about gossip (or ‘tea’ as Peter said, or was it ‘t’? He’d never get Peter’s generation sense of humor).

“Do you know any people that are good for mutants?” Fury asked rather bluntly. He knows how it sounds and Peter knew that it meant nothing like he said it. But Peter didn’t call him out on it, because Fury never asked these sort of questions. The kid cocked his head and thought about his answer before he said it.

“Hmm, depends what you want. Do you wanna hide them, protect them, control them...?” Peter asked and finished on a open end with a high note in his voice. When Fury didn’t answer, Peter took a moment longer before he spoke again. Cautiously, though as a serious look crossed his face;that look of realization. He set his hands down and sat up a bit straighter. “Is this about Coulson’s team?” He didn’t sound at all joking anymore. He sounded dead serious, and that honestly terrified Fury more than the fact he knew about Coulson being alive, nevermind that he had a team and that said team had a mutant on it. Not even the Avengers know Coulson was still walking among them.

“How do you do that?” Fury said through gritted lips, letting frustration prick his tone. He got annoyed because Parker was one of the few people who could read him. And one of the only people who could read him this well. The kid shrugged and looked forward again, calm and casual look taking over his usually amused features.

“Cause you don’t care about that kind of shit. But you do care about Coulson, no matter what you say. Not judging B T dubs.” Peter said in a not snarky or sarcastic but not entirely serious voice. Fury let him talk the rest of the way to answer his question. “Let me guess. One of his crew discovered he/she powers? Having trouble controlling it?” Fury didn’t say anything when he paused and nodded as if he had gotten an answer before he continued “Normally, I would suggest going to Xavier, but he’s not very trusting especially to SHIELD. They’re probably an agent too and I don’t think Coulson wants to lose whomever it is, especially to a school with an extended curriculum. Are they inhuman or mutant?”

“Does it matter?” Peter made an affirmative sound, but didn’t take offense. He must be really serious about this, either that or he really wanted to help this agent. Probably the latter, the kid was like that. ” We believe inhuman.”

“Okay. So powers linked heavily to emotions and memories. My advice? Power dampeners and train with it. It’ll hurt and take a while to get used to. But that’s the safest way. Unless they wanna give her up or get her discovered, then I’d suggest Xavier, but I don’t think SHIELD  wants to owe the X-men anything.” Peter said. He didn’t look at Fury, but the air of the conversation was over and Fury confirmed that he had taken his thoughts into consideration.

“Noted.”  there was a second of silence and then Peter took off his seat belt.

“There’s our guy.” Peter mumbled as he leaped out of the car to go take this motherfucker down.

Fighting with Parker was always a joy ride on adrenaline. He always managed to get as close as possible without getting hurt. Kid had skills though. Though, those skills weren’t used in any way Fury had ever seen them used. He was flexible but strong. Agile and quick but firm and precise. He would flip like Black Widow and punch like Captain America. He was like those two plus Hawkeye, and Winter Soldier with Iron man’s intellect rolled into one tiny human being that could one day, be the strongest person in the world.

God forbid he ever become a supervillain.

They were intercepting a HYDRA informant. They had to capture and interrogate. Get information by any means necessary.

Fury wasn’t interrogating him.

It was honestly a privilege to watch Peter interrogate someone. It was like Romanov; he made it into an art. Peter never let anyone watch him, except for a select few while he did so. Fury was almost honored that he was one of the few who got to see him work.

Actually Peter was a lot like Romanov. His espionage and control of emotions, were more than a little unorthodox, but on the same level as the Black Widow. He also fought like her, using flexibility and speed as a default instead of strength. He observed things, could read people like her. Could be stealthy and clever like her. He even spoke over 6 languages- which Fury didn’t know until he did it.

But What really reminded Peter of Natasha, was the interrogation and torture. They made it an art. Beautiful but dangerous. Graceful but vicious. Delicate but painful.

They didn’t start with pain. They gave the victim a chance. One chance. To avoid pain. To speak up. One chance.

Fury has never seen one victim ever take that chance.

Peter knew exactly every person's weak spot without ever having to guess. He knew where it was, and how to poke, slash, or gouge it. One second they were fine, the next in pain far beyond what they could handle. It didn’t escalate, it wasn’t gradual, it was instant.

Parker said it was because he was impatient. Romanov said that was only the beginning. They got the information in exactly 3 minutes and 26 seconds.

A new record.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3- I’m the Black Widow

16 years ago…

“один… два... три”

Shots rang out on the third count. The thick Russian accent bouncing off the bleak walls. A row of girls no older than 15 lined up against the wall, reflecting their perfect picture on the other side of the room, dark shadows casting over their stoic faces, watching as the freshly appointed Black Widow made her final shot to earn the honored title.

The woman watching over on the tall balcony who had been proctoring the test didn’t move one bit, just as she had been when she first came. Never made any motions to indicate the test was over, never writing down the tests progress. If the candidate messed up even a little, the test would be over and the participant would fail. There was no room for even the slightest error in the Red Room.

“Приемлемо, Вдова” (Acceptable, Widow.) she addressed never moving an inch, but her voice rang out as powerful as a tidal wave. The red haired 22 year old lowered her weapon, but didn’t look up nor did she acknowledge the praise.

Praise wasn’t meant to be acknowledged. It was a part of the test. Praise was just a distraction fueling your ego and making one arrogant and overconfident in one’s ability and competence. Praise was just a mean used to seduce an opponent into a false sense of respect and admiration. Praise was a tool to be used against enemies.

The man next to the director did not look pleased. He did not know any better because he was not from the Red Room. He was a potential alliance and if he was to actually, officially be allied with the Red Room, then he would have to know his place. But for now, they allowed the German HYDRA official speak his incompetence. He was allowed to furrowed his brow and speak his feeble concerns to the Director in German.

“Diese Mission ist in unserem Bündnis von entscheidender Bedeutung. Sind Sie sich sicher, dass dies Ihr Kandidat ist?“( This mission is crucial in our alliance, are you positive this is your candidate. ) The Director did not humor him with an answer and turned to the large chipped wooden doors at the back of the balcony. The heavy doors opened and the Red haired woman walked straight. She followed the beige halls with flickering lights that grew more ark inbetween the next lighting fixture on the wall with no doors. Passing by the same old wooden normal sized doors to a point where you thought there was no Vega inning or end to them. But lead to a red door that stood out, breaking the dull pattern which continued on the other end of it. That is where she stopped and knocked exactly once before waiting. There was no indication that was visible or heard but after exactly 10 seconds of waiting with her hands behind her back, standing straight as a board, Natalia opened the red door.

The Director was sitting there at her plain desk, no emotion on her face as she stared straight at Natalia, directly in the eye. The man from earlier stood in to the side of the desk his body turned more toward the Director than to to her, he looked at her though threw a bit of a side eye and his expression was a little late to be schooled from his almost angered and irritated expression to a scowling neutral face, that only had a bit more emotion than the Director’s and Natalia’s stoic, solemn expression that have no emotions away. Almost as if they were robots. Then there was a man that hadn’t been in the training room, against the wall that casted shadows over his still figure in grey and black. He had long brown hair and a black mask that covered his mouth, his eyes were as lifeless as Natalia’s as he stood attention, back never touching the wall and his hands at his sides. She noticed his left arm was made of metal and a red star on his bicep. He didn’t look at her, just straight ahead, as if he was a rag doll and awaiting orders.

Natasha dissected him quickly, as she was expected to do with any and all unknown entities that surrounded her. He was American. Around 24. Closed off, and attentive. He had a Hydra symbol on his clothes. So did the German man.

The Director was talking about alliances and this was a mission room- and not just any mission room the mission room; the room where all the higher ups got their missions they were to assign to the Red Rooms assassins and soldiers and the room where the Black Widow got her missions directly. Natasha felt dread pool in her gut, she didn’t like group missions. She was better solo. Other teammates held her back and she was very good at following the Red Room Number One rule:

Companions are for the weak.

It was the rule she based her entire life around. She cut off or killed all her connections outside the Red Room. She made herself the number one assassin- the Black Widow- in the red Room. She had no emotional attachments or connections and it made it easier to be lifeless. Easier to make her obey, because all her morals were dashed. It made it easier to kill with no personal attachments.

But on group missions, she had to interact in ways that weren’t deceiving or seducing her target. She had to work together with other people. And 99 percent of the time they were more emotional than her. They had connections and wanted to make them with her. She made sure to distance herself as much as possible, stay on guard around them, and never talk to them unless it was to discuss the mission and only if it’s imperative . No nonsense, no side conversations, no unnecessary interactions. If they didn’t get the plans on the first time they discussed it, then they would die and Natasha could improvise. She never ever depend on anyone else during a mission. Especially a team mission. She always assumed they would fail or be incompetent or die. She made auxiliary plans for every scenario she could think of.

“Natalia, you are the newly appointed Black Widow of this Red Room. A sort of congratulations are in order.” the Director said in nearly perfect English accent tonite only slightly with a Russian one(English is a boarder language that was spoken fluently among HYDRA and the Red Room, so she is already supposed to know that she is to speak mostly English on the mission and speak in English when she answered the questions verbally in the briefing room) and she slightly tilted her head in reply, but just to acknowledge the fact, face never showing emotion. The director’s lips formed an amused smile, in display of her control.

The Director was the only person who could show such emotion, she rarely did it. When she did it was to emphasize her anger or displeasement. She nearly never showed that she was pleased.

The HYDRA official, on the other hand, was not . And spoke such insolence that defied her director's decision. Especially for a second time. Natalia was genuinely curious how this man was still alive.

️

“She is new. She will not be sufficient for this mission. She does not have enough experience in her job well for this-” the German man went on a tirade. His German accent that laced his tone was ugly and thick, she never liked that language. It left a bad taste in her mouth. The Director cut off his venomous flow of words with a harsh slap of a paper to her oak desk. The sound resonated and her smile had completely vanished, a hint of irritation pinching her face in a way that a normal person wouldn’t even notice.

“She is the most obedient and strongest of all our candidates, and was the only one combatant enough to pass the exam on her first try. Natalia is the most acceptable for this mission, for she has never failed a mission assigned by the Red Room before. She will suffice the needs of this mission perfectly.” The director informed the German man never losing her composer, but allowing the heat and authority in her voice assert  dominance over him. She then turned back to Natasha. The German man shut up. She looked the fresh Widow in the eyes and held her gaze in a deadly stare as she informed in a voice that threatened that anything less than perfection was unacceptable on a level that would get her severely punished. “You will not fail.” Natalia nodded once and stood straighter as she said:

“Yes, Madam.” In a firm voice that did not show weakness or defiance. It showed promise for what she would do. The Director nodded in approval once before continuing the debrief.

“This mission is a extended mission in Italy through Germany. You will be assassinating delegates that might have future influences on the country, but have none as of now. Your target list will be given to you upon departure.” she said formerly, never breaking her eyes away from the Widow.

Black Widow .

“This mission is also important because beyond assassination and influence, there is alliance that will be maintained if all goes accordingly. You will be partnering with Hydra’s main asset.” the Director said barley gesturing to the soldier with the metal arm. Natasha didn’t take her eyes off the director, she didn’t turnto even glance at the man. She only heard as the man stood to attention by turning toward the Director and stepping away from the shadows and stood a few paces behind her. Locking his hands behind him to show compliance. “It is a partnership that we have been working on for decades. This mission’s success will be the deciding factor. Hydra’s new asset and the Red Room New Black Widow. Don’t mess up.” She warned, her tone suggested this would be something greater than she informed Natalia of. But it was not Natalia’s place to question her director.

She left with the soldier following her. Her next orders did not have to be said. She was to get ready and leave immediately. She got to her quarters quickly but never in a rush and closed the door packing a small beige backpack she acquired from Iraq. She does not have design preferences, the accessory was to only be used as functional and a tool on a mission.

When she walked out of her room, the soldier was standing by her door looking confused as if not knowing what to do, but in a way that he didn’t have any emotions on his face as he stared at the opposite wall blankly. She wanted to scoff, but she kept a neutral face as she made her way to the transports they would be using. Passing him by without a second glance.

He followed compliantly.

OoO

They didn’t talk to each other while traveling.

They didn’t talk on the ride to the airport, in which she drove and he took the front seat. They didn’t talk to each other at checkout, she only talked to the check-in lady at the airport. They didn’t talk on the flight, they sat together while listening to the usual noise of coach seating area. They didn’t talk on the way to the hotel, they walked because it was only a short distance and kept to the shadows and mapped out the surrounding areas for their mission. They didn’t talk at the hotel, as they silently claimed their spots and unpacked.

As soon as they got to the one bed hotel room, she sat on one side of the bed and placed her pack on the floor, claiming the side as her own. They only got one room with one bed to avoid suspicion. It was unsaid that they’d be posing as a couple, not on a honeymoon or anything, just taking a simple vacation. There was no need for couples to request separate rooms or two beds and saying they were coworkers on a business trip was too complicated. No one asked questions this way.

Digging out a pad to show their first assignment of 25. The missions were given on a location based system. There were 25 assignments that unlocked as soon as they were in each city and locked again once they left the designated city. Currently they all were under the incomplete tab, once the assignment was complete they would get a new source of information and the necessities to travel to the next location. She estimated it would take 1 week per kill. That was 25 weeks.

The mission details were very clear, but not giving too much information. Just a name, location, and time. The way that they had to kill the first target was open ended and there were no building plans so that meant they had to scope it out before they went in.

The Soldier was quiet as he sat on the other side of the bed. Back toward her, sitting straight up. Waiting for orders. It was clear that she would be leading this mission. She didn’t find herself wondering about the mysterious man. She believe the expression went ‘curiosity killed the cat’. It was one of her flaws however, to be maybe too curious about things she believes she has no right to understand. It took a lot of her teenage years to suppress that instinct and still took a lot of self control to keep those thoughts away.

The Asset didn’t try to make an emotional connection to her. It was a bit off putting, but it did make her job not to get attached easier. So she shrugged it off.

They had a mission.

Week 1.

He didn’t talk.

She didn’t talk.

The lights Just turned out and they went to sleep on the first night. Both of them slipping into a light, restless sleep. Only inches apart and not touching. They made no noise as they slumbered, and did not move or wake up, as there was no threat.

The next morning they both woke up exactly at 6.

They got ready quickly and went out the door to scope their targets location of his imminent death. They only talked when they needed as to not look suspicious, and it was in codes about the mission. They spoke in Italian.

Natalia was pleasantly surprised when the Asset wasn’t as mindless as she first thought. He gave important input on the plan, that they were apparently expected to make on their own. The more technical things that is. He never said much and she talked only slightly more than him. Only to show him plans and her routes and if he had adjustments he would make them. Then they’d burn the paper to erase all evidence once the plan was solidified.

The target was killed by the end of the week.

Week 2

They were in Sicily.

Not far from where their first mission was, just across a straight. They took a boat there and the ride was only two hours. Neither one of them talked.

They didn’t really need a plan, they only need not to be caught. Unlike the last mission, they weren’t to make it as quiet as possible, but this time there was a note under the name, location and time. The note had said that they were to make a specifically of it.

Make it noticeable but not to be noticed.

Asset took the reins on this one by building a time bomb out of some scrap metal he found and taking gunpowder he had packed. She had to admit out of the little resources they had, it was a pretty decent bomb. She never verbally acknowledged it, but it did cross her mind.

They blew up the delegation center where their target was.

Week 3

She was bringing toast up to their room in Barcelona.

It was far away from the second kill, which was plastered all over the news. The delegation buildings bombing killing twenty people and injuring 103. Out of those twenty, only one was a target, but she couldn’t find it in herself to mourn the 19 others who had fallen. She hadn’t had those kind of thoughts in so many years she can barely remember.

“You have crumbs on your shirt.” he said in American. It threw her slightly off because That was the first time he’s ever spoken to her and gave her information that was not about the mission. It wasn’t an invitation of companionship, just a fact that she acknowledged by brushing it off and not offering a thanks.

But she couldn’t help but notice that behind the gruffness and an accent only a Native American (she believe it sounded most like a Brooklyn accent, but that part of the accent  was barely noticeable) in his voice was a tint of gentleness and the same barely noticeable confusion that always laced his voice whenever he talked. It wasn’t like the German Officer, in fact he rather liked his voice.

She shot a woman in the head the next day.

Week 4

“I am going out.”

She had said one night and he got up and followed her into the woods that was near their hotel in a small town in Scotland.

She was going out to train and to not lose her edge. She didn’t expect him to come but she didn’t deny him and his silent invitation to spar. Their default fighting styles were completely opposite.  She used speed and her agility and flexibility. He mostly blocked and used his strength and precise hits that would do a lot of damage.

They didn’t go easy on each other and that was the way she liked it. No one would go easy on them in the real world and it’s best to train with no handicaps.

They spared in silence for hours until they were both drenched in sweat. Sneaking back into the hotel near 3am, sneaking past the half asleep receptionist. Not letting anyone notice as they slipped back into their room and took turns to shower and get ready.

Two days later they hung a man in the early morning under a monorail track.

Week 5

“I am Natalia.”

She told him and he looked up, and they stared at each other in silence for a long time. His expression flashed a bit of surprise, before settling back into the blank stare, that the longer she looked at it, noticed it wasn’t so blank. It held a swirl of emotions and memories that he, now that she really looked at him, visibly suppressed.

She never told him her name in the month that they had worked together, she felt it was appropriate considering the next 20 weeks were going to be spent together. They were going to be undercover at least once in that time.

“I don’t have a name.” he informed in a clipped tone. She did not feel sorry for that. She respected him too much to pity him. Natasha pitied no one. “They call me Soldier.”

“You need a name for this mission.” she said, but she didn’t offer him a suggestion. He hummed in affirmation. Agreeing with her. And took some time to think of one.

“How about Aktivs.” she raised her brow. She didn’t like it. Latvian for Asset. That wouldn’t work, as they were in Latvia. That was basically like going to America and saying that he was named Asset.

“No.” she responded. He gave her a cocky smirk, one he probably would never dare to do where his handlers could see. One that showed more emotion than Natalia had been shown her entire life. It was so sudden and shocking and overwhelming that Natasha could not stop a quiet gasp from her mouth. He falter just a bit before continuing.

“Krasnaya.” Interesting. Her shock was gone and replaced with that curiosity she suppressed. If he could be cocky then she could be curious.

“Russian?” she asked. Letting amusement and interest cautiously enter her tone. He looked a little shocked but for less time than she had and he nodded.

She liked it.

It didn’t matter that they had shown more emotion in the past 30 seconds than they had in their entire lives. Their bosses weren’t here to call them out or punish them. And it wasn’t like they were going to tell them, because if Natalia was honest, it was kind of nice.

He strangled someone to death the next day.

Week 6

“Natalia.”

He Said her name for the first time in the dead of night, as they were laying on their hotel bed in Munich. They were sharing a bed, as they always did, inches apart and not touching.

She liked how he said her name. His Russian accent being nicely fused with his gentle English.

“Krasnaya.” she responded in her own tone tinted with slight affection. If he noticed then he didn’t say so.

“Do you ever think there is something else out there. Besides this.” He said in almost a child like tone. Innocent and unassuming. This was dangerous territory he was defending into. Even questioning their existence and what it meant for them to live was deadly and would warrant immediate punishment. She stared at the ceiling for a second, and couldn’t help but contemplate her answer. It should’ve been simple.

“Not for us.” she responded. That was the simplest way to put it. They had no life other than being their organizations tools. Being a small part of a bigger picture that they could not know.

When she was younger and more naive, she thought it was like a jail. She was a prisoner being made into something that wasn’t human.

She wasn’t wrong.

They drowned a 19 year old the next morning,

Week 7

“I can’t remember.”

He mumbled to himself in a frustrated tone, having more emotion than it should. Natalia looked up from her book that she was reading on a chair. He was sitting on the bed, back facing her. His hands gripped his knees so hard that she saw his flesh hand turn white.

She shouldn’t say anything. But she does.

“What?” She asked simply, quietly. Letting gentleness creep into it as to be non threatening. For the first time, he seemed upset.

“Before I woke up in HYDRA.” He said and turned slightly to her as she put down her book but didn’t get up. He looked down to his arm. “The only thing I can remember, is that I didn’t have this.” He the movement in his arm minuscule to indicate what he was talking about.

She didn’t have a response for it, so she didn’t say anything at all. But she did attempt to send some sort of silent support, not offering any apology.

This wasn’t her fault.

But she did feel a flash of anger blaze within her. Anger that she hadn’t felt since she was 16. Anger at this system, this organization for not treating them better. She hadn’t had these foolish thoughts of think she deserved better since she was a kid.

But she felt Krasnaya deserved better than how HYDRA had been treating him.

They drowned two women in the cold water of the Mediterranean sea.

Week 8

“I like the way you fight.”

It was the first time they talked during a sparring session. Which was sort of strange because the only noises that were heard was the nocturnal creatures and dull sounds of the city. The only noise they made were flesh on flesh or metal and their slightly heavy panting.

It was nearly 2, and they were just about to end up their sparring session with one last round before heading back to the hotel in Zermatt. She took him off guard and went for the legs, smirking as he went down and then jumping on top of his fallen figure, straddling him with a freshly sharpened knife to his throat.

“Oh yeah?” She asked, with a hint of amusement at his chagrined face. It took a second for the miffed look to disappear and replaced with something else.

“Yes.” he confirmed after a while with a nod and she smiled a bit more, never leaving her position as she leaned closer toward him.

“And what exactly is it about my style that you like?” she asked in an almost seductive way (but it wasn’t seductive, because she wasn’t trying to flirt just tease) , letting her curiosity get the best of her and took over her words.

“It’s almost like a dancer.” Krasnaya replied, Natalia scoffed. The Red Room entire theme was a ballet studio. The dancers were as physically fit as one could be. Ballet took a lot of self control and hardwork. Physical prowess was everything when it came to training. Being called a dancer was supposed to be an insult, for Natalia it left a bad taste in her mouth. It reminded her of the Red Room and the torture she had to go through to get to where she was now. She couldn’t focus on the past because the mission didn’t require that.

But somehow, when Krasnaya complimented her, when he said that she looked like a dancer. She knew it was his American way of saying she was graceful and elegant. In American eyes, Russian Ballet was an untouchable art form. She couldn’t help her smile.

They killed the tenant in the room just above theirs when they got back.

Week 9

“Natasha.”

He said and she looked up from the plans she was making for their next target in Berlin. He had been looking at her for a while, just staring. It wasn’t unnatural for Krasnaya to stare at her, or at the wall or anywhere really, so she had ignored it. Had she looked up she would see that he had a look of concentration on his face. Like he was trying to figure something out.

“It’s easier to say in English.” He explained and she gave a look of understanding and exasperation, but hid her small smile by ducking down to continue making their plan.

She liked it.

She sliced a 42 year old woman’s throat 2 hours later.

Week 10

“I like cats.”

It was the most random and weird thing to say. Completely inappropriate for a woman of her status and a situation this dire. Yet she couldn’t find it in herself to be regretful of the words, especially as Krasnaya gave her a baffled expression. That showed he was completely lost on how to reply.

They were currently in the vents (they were really big vents) in a convention center in Edinburgh. Their target was two rooms away and the vents were big enough for both of them to fit so they could get a clear shot of their target as he walked by.

“I think I like dogs.” he finally responded and Natasha let out a small quiet laugh. Of course that’s how he’d respond. He looked at her again and smiled.

“You seem like a dog type.” she observed and she in a million years would never expect him to respond with:

“I like the way you laugh.”

That took Natasha by surprise. She didn’t know why her heart stopped and she froze. She didn’t know the feeling that was crawling up on her insides, it was warm and fuzzy. That was probably a red flag, a warning sign that she was emoting but she couldn’t help but like the feeling that came upon her.

She didn’t even notice their target was dead until she saw red.

Week 11

“You remind me of someone.”

He said to her as they were eating breakfast in a little cafe in Nerja. They were trying to listen in on their target, but he had gone to the bathroom and they made no move to follow. Best to keep suspicion off of themselves. They already had all the information they needed, but couldn’t find it in themselves to go. She looked up from her biscuit with a raised eyebrow as he hurried to add.

“I mean I think you remind me of someone. A woman.” he said hurriedly and Natasha nodded in understanding. She didn’t give any indication for him to continue, but didn’t speak as she munched on her breakfast. “Someone before…” he moved his metal arm only slightly.

They’d talked about this on and off for a while. Krasnaya not remembering anything, not even his own name. HYDRA not telling a thing about his past to him or anyone else. They used his metal arm as an indicator of timestamps.

“What do you remember about her?” she asked, having an almost foreboding feeling in his gut. She shifted and didn’t like the way that the thought of talking about her made Natasha feel. And she didn’t know why she was feeling the way she felt right now, she just knew that it was probably stupid. So she schooled her expression into a neutral one, Krasnaya didn’t seem to notice.

“I remember that she has brown hair. I also remember her being a strong individual. I usually remember her with a blonde boy, I think. I don’t know, everytime I look at you I get reminded of her.” Krasnaya said and shifted a little. “Like, you two have the same...air about you. You two seem very different otherwise. But strong and independent is what I’d call her, and you remind me of that.” he shrugged.

“Do you like those characteristics?” she found herself asking without think about it. He looked at her oddly before shrugging.

“I do, but I don’t feel the same way when I think of her as I do with you.” he sounded confused. And Natasha found herself in the middle of relaxing and tensing up even more. She didn’t know why; he was just telling her what he remembered.

Like he always did.

She strangled their target in an ally on his way to lunch.

Week 12

She kissed him.

She didn’t know why she did that of all things, but her target was looking directly at them. They were in a corner of a shopping mall in Mons. They sat on the bench waiting for their target to finish purchasing a very expensive watch, and they must have looked suspicious because he looked over and narrowed his eyes a bit. Now he averted his eyes and was hurriedly walking away.

Krasnaya seemed just as surprised as their target, if his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates were anything to go by it. She waited until the target was out of sight to part lips, looking distinctly away from Krasnaya’s shocked murky blue eyes.

Her heart shouldn’t be pounding this hard; she had to do what she had to do to avoid suspicion. But was kissing Krasnaya the best way to go about it? It was an instinct, an in the moment decision which was weird. She never not kissed someone to maintain her cover before, but somehow this was different. Should couldn’t help but feel that this wasn’t just to maintain their cover. She actually quite enjoyed it, which wasn’t good because she shouldn’t have enjoyed anything.

“Why did you…” he whispered, body only tensing after  she broke them up. He looked at her and she only looked where her target had left. Trying not to pay any mind at his intense stare baring into her. He didn’t seem upset or mad. But she felt that he was confused, she was too.

“He saw us.” She explained herself and glanced, only for a second, at his still tense and unmoving form. “Physical displays of affection make people uncomfortable.” She couldn’t help but smirk as a light red dusted his cheeks, barely noticeable.

She got up to finish their job.

The target never even noticed he was dead.

Week 13

“This tastes like shit.”

He scrunched up his nose at the breakfast she had made him. There was a kitchen in their hotel in Lyon. They didn’t feel like eating out today and had a more complex mission to plan. They needed more intercite plan and they only had two days to make it. She had made a drink with kale and Chia seeds she had found in the market. She just boiled that combination in water to give to him as he continued with the plan. She huffed and turned away.

“It’s good for you.” She insisted and he pushed the cup away from him. It looked like sewer water in the dark. He wrinkled his nose again at the cup as if offended him.

“I think you’re trying to poison me.” He mumbled and she snorted. He had a pouty look on his face, and it was kind of cute…. Wait...what?!

No no, that was the exact wrong thing to think! She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t have feelings or affection if any kind for Krasnaya. That would get her killed. That would get him killed.

“Stop being dramatic and drink it.” She found herself saying in almost a scolding tone, even if she was going to an existential crisis inside her brain and heart -How was her heart fucking apart of this now?!

They poisoned a lady, with real poison that evening.

Week 14

“I would never forget you Natasha.”

Krasnaya looked at her seriously as they were staking out a woman with red heels in the car on the edge of a small town 50 miles outside of Berlin. It came out of nowhere and Natasha looked at Krasnaya a bit shocked, just like he did when she sometimes did something odd, it must’ve shown because his face softened from the serious expression it was.

She didn’t know why the hell she felt lighter. She felt a flutter in her chest and it made her feel nervous and relaxed at the same time. But most of all she felt warm and comforted. She found that she didn’t mind the feeling nearly as much as she was trained to. But she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

With Krasnaya, all her training and self control over her emotions flew out of the window. She could breathe and relax and let herself feel because Krasnaya doesn’t judge her or yell at her when she does. It was okay because He doesn’t care about self control nearly as much as he should either.

“I count on it.” she smirked at him. He smiled back. That smile that made her feel a sense of happiness. She didn’t fight it this time. She found that letting herself feel emotions wasn’t as bad as she thought.

Not with Krasnaya.

They killed the woman with a noose.

Week 15

“He was blonde.”

They were about to go to sleep when Krasnaya had a major flashback. He had fallen off the bed and his eyes went wide. His breathing picked up to the point he was hyperventilating. Natasha went on autopilot and did what she thought was the natural way to deal with this. She instantly took him to back the bed sitting across from him in a cross cross as he mirrored her breathing.

Then He tentatively requested to talk it out, as if she would say no. She scoffed at that insecurity and told him to spill, because that was what she was going to tell him to do anyway.

He smiled up at her with a small painful, but genuine smile. She had her own easy small genuine smile just for him too.

They had talked for hours about a small boy that was always sick and could barely breathe. Natasha guesses he had asthma and he had another series of flashes and told her that the boy put newspapers in his shoes to be taller.

Most of the memories were painful, some he laughed painfully at. Almost all of them had that small blonde boy with newspaper in his shoes. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t put a name to the face.

Krasnaya said that the memories were painful because it seemed like he had a good life before the metal arm. It didn’t seem at all like he was working for HYDRA.

Natasha has never felt more hate to the organization as she did just then.

They strapped a man to the bottom of the boat instead of sleeping.

Week 16

“Do you ever wonder if we could have a normal life.”

She asked in the dead of night, staring at the ceiling of their motel room in Unquera. He hadn’t said anything to her, but she could tell that he wasn’t asleep. They both couldn’t sleep. But she guessed it was just one of those nights.

Those night where their thoughts were too loud to go to sleep. Where they screamed that what they were doing was wrong and that they could have a life outside of this. The nights where they imagined what life would be like if they never were apart of their respected organizations.

She couldn’t help but notice that being with Krasnaya increased those thoughts. She also did notice how he snuck his way into her fantasies.

“I do.” He whispered into the darkness. He inches closer to her and she did the same to him, breaking their streak of not moving while in the bed. She could help but think it was nice and wondered what she would feel like if they closed the contact all together.

But for now, two inches closer was enough for her.

“What do you think it’d be like?” She asked in the same quiet tone, barley even making any noise. If he was anyone else, it would’ve been like the question wasn’t even asked.

“Better than this.” He predicted not changing the volume. She couldn’t help but agree with that assessment.

Because if they had a normal life then she could be happy and feel emotions with no repercussions. If they had a normal life they could see more smiles from each other. If they had a normal life she could touch Krasnaya with no reservations.

She snapped a man’s neck 12 hours later.

Week 17

“Hey Nat, did you get the report?”

She paused at the name. She had never been addressed so informally before. ‘Natasha’ was already pushing it a little. But shortening that name even further seems unprofessional.

That was something friends do.

Normally she would panic. Worry that her training had fled her or that she had to close herself off even more. But Krasnaya seemed to be the exception to nearly all her rules. She didn’t mind the thought of being companions with Krasnaya.

And she didn’t care at all by now.

“What did you just call me?” She asked, hoping she heard him correctly. Hoping that he too dashed all his morals to be affectionate with her. She smirked as she saw that he blushed a bit. But he didn’t repeat himself nor did he deny that he had given her a pet name.

She wished he could give one to him, but she didn’t know his name. She found herself thinking that he’d find out. She’d get that information, if not him than for herself.

So she too could call him a ridiculous pet name.

They decapitated their target near a lake.

Week 18

“You’re an idiot.”

“It’s not my fault, it just froze, Nat!” He said as he adjusted his arm on the wrong way again. He had landed on it wrong when sorting and in the morning they had found that some gears had shifted out of place.

“God dammit.” He cursed under his breath adjusting the gears again and she laughed at his misery. “Don’t laugh, this fucking hurts .” He groaned, and she just knew he was being dramatic. This had happened before, it wasn’t that big a deal if he put everything in its proper place before he shifted them again. That only made her laugh more.

“Don’t do stupid things, like try to beat me.” She shout back with a teasing smile and he looked at her exasperated then went back to poking a screwdriver in his arm, rolling his eyes.

He hit the kill spot of a 35 year old man at dawn.

Week 19

“I’ve always wanted a family.”

He said in the front seat as they drove through country roads to get to their next destination. She wasn’t taken by surprise by his random notes that he made. If Krasnaya remembered something then he’d tell her and she’d respond, hoping to encourage more of the memory to come out.

But this one took her a bit by surprise. She didn’t take her eyes off the road but her left hand gripped the steering wheel as her right settled on his left arm comfortingly.

She couldn’t help but feel remorse for that one little fact. She’d never thought about having a family, it just never seemed to be in the cards for her. She was indifferent to it before she met Krasnaya.

Now the thought was a pleasant but far away one. She could never have a family and neither could he, not anymore.

It seemed to communicate over to him as he slumped. He knew it too. But whoever he was before would’ve had that, and that probably made it more painful for him.

Her heart constricted, because as much as she wanted Krasnaya to be truly happy and have his old life back, that life would’ve taken him away from her. She found that She was willing to sacrifice whatever these feelings were for that.

As long as he was happy.

He rammed a pole into a woman’s head near the afternoon.

Week 20

“I never knew my parents.”

She finally told him as he looked at her with a raised brow and she shifted from side to side. They were standing in a line to the metro so they could get to the place where the kill would take place.

She never really cared about her parents before. She never gave them much thought, even when she was younger. But being with Krasnaya brought out a lot of things she never thought twice about.

Even killing people seemed to lose its luster.

He smiled at her a little, easing her nerves and grabbed her hand gently with his metal one. A silent form of support that they hadn’t spoken about but was still a reoccurring thing now. She didn’t mind it in the least.

“Well I don’t either.” He said snarking her and she rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile as she jabbed him in his ribs.

She never did let go of his hand until they were in the front of the line.

She strangled  a man with twine at 8.

Week 21

“I don’t think I agree with the Red Room.”

He looked up with her, panicked look flashing though his eyes as he nearly dropped his muffin. They were in another cafe, this time in London, eating breakfast, because apparently her cooking was shit and Krasnaya’s was way better but they didn’t have ingredients.

His face settled into a more serious expression before he answered with “I don’t agree with HYDRA’s either.” He admitted and she had a feeling he’d say that. Especially after all they’ve done to him.

“This is dangerous to think.” She replied in a solemn tone and he rolled his eyes and but didn’t look confused.

“Then Why’d you bring it up?” He asked in almost an exasperated tone. She shrugged.

“Because it’s an important things to know.” He didn’t respond to that, nibbling away at his muffin again. But the air around them was speaking volumes when they didn’t. It was tense but relaxed.

It felt right.

They strapped a man on a subway track in between terminals.

Week 22

“What if we didn’t go back?”

That was even more dangerous than even thinking about defying the Red Room expectations. It was a fantasy though, she couldn’t help but want that after all these weeks. Want was a dangerous thing for both of them. Hey didn’t have that luxury and leaving was not an option. They were trapped in the messed up system that broke them. The system that said that they would fix them when they didn’t know that were ever broken. When they were too young or confused to understand.

“Krasnaya-” She warned gently. They had talked about this before, just not so blatantly. She didn’t panic anymore when they did, and neither did he. But they did keep a closer look on the area around them, just in case anyone was listening in. Anyone that would rat them out.

“No, I’m serious, Natalia.” She stiffened because he never called her Natalia. Only when he was really serious or mad. They had played with this idea, and she thought it was a mutual fantasy . She never let it be anything more than that. If she did then she’d have hope and hope was something that she absolutely could not allow herself to feel. Hope was deception and she was firm in that opinion and not even Krasnaya could change that. Hope was a downfall, and was the ultimate thing that would tear her apart if she felt it; she knew that.

“They’d find us.” he didn’t argue with her, but she did feel his sadness in the rejection. He understood the logic but couldn’t hold back the want. She sympathized with it, but she could let Krasnaya have false hope. It would break his already broken mind.

They watched the drowned man’s kids find their father.

Week 23

“I think I love you.”

It was said with such sureness and confidence as she stood in front  of the man she proclaimed it to. She knew had never had these feelings before, never had any feelings of affection for anyone really, so she could not be 100 percent sure.

But she knew what she felt was intense. She knew what she felt was more than just friendship. Over the past months she had grown a bond with Krasnaya, a bond she did not want to break. A bond that she wanted to hold onto forever.

“I think I love you too.” He responded, taking her hand gently in his. He said it in a quieter tone but with just as much conviction. Both of them did not know what love was, but to them it didn’t matter.

She wanted to love Krasnaya, and it didn’t matter of the Red Room or HYDRA. It didn’t matter if she was an assassin or not. It didn’t matter if Krasnaya couldn’t even remember his own name.

They would love each other in their own way and she doubted anyone could stop them. Even if they were a million miles apart. Even if he forgot her, he’d always remember her love.

You never forget love.

When they kissed this time, it wasn’t because they had been spotted.

They slit the throat of their target quickly that night.

Week 24

It was a quick thing.

Something they didn’t even think about. It really just happened. Almost like an instinct. They didn’t discuss it before hand or anything, just went at it.

It was unplanned, but it felt right.

They didn’t trust. Never learned how. But if there was some semblance of trust in them, this was the closest thing they had. Their relationship was based off of trust and blood. Silent comfort and aggressive sparring. Their mutual lack of knowledge of their organizations desires and the confusing thoughts of their mutual wants.

“This isn’t a good idea.”She isn’t sure who said it, but she couldn’t help but agree. She also disagreed, apparently, because her body was showing otherwise. He seemed to feel the same way, but like her, they just didn’t care.

“No one will find out.” The other responded. How could they? There were no tests, nor were there any way to find out or evidence that indicated they did this. Not in anyway their organizations could find out. And they certainly weren’t confessing about this.

But they only had a week to do this. She didn’t know much, her mind went blank when she tried to remember what initiated this. She wasn’t sure who said what but she acknowledged it; she wasn’t sure if anyone would find out but she doubted it. She only knew how she felt, and she felt her love for him and his for her collide together in intense passion.

And as she laid there with Krasnaya on top of him, she couldn’t help but think that this felt natural. She couldn’t find herself to be worried about it; about her director’s opinions or the punishment that would occur for both of them if this was ever found out. He didn’t seem to care. She found that she didn’t care either, because this felt right.

More right than anything in her entire life.

They hung a 23 year old man the next night.

Week 25

It was that week that he was ripped away.

Out of her sight forever.

She was never to see him again, and she couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t do anything. In the knowledge that they’d both be punished if they defied their bosses decisions. In the knowledge that it would arouse suspicion and mistrust among their separate peers.

She just watched him go, standing board still upright with her hands behind her back. He walked the same walk he did when he first came in. The following soldier walk. She relieved only now that she hated that walk. Her Face never gave her away to any emotion. Neither did his.

She couldn’t help but feel that she wouldn’t see him again for a long time. She had known that before, but only now was it sinking in. Tearing her to pieces inside.

His going was the most painful torture she had ever experienced. She would give into all forms of punishment to just hold him one more time, one more second . But even if she admitted that she’d get punished with no compensation. The compensation was her speaking out.

Their relationship was cut by people who used them like puppets. Their hearts ripped out and put back all wrong.

She felt no regret for their relationship, she only felt regret for not fighting harder for it. That feeling of regret was only sinking in now. Regret that she could never see him again. Regret she didn’t notice the feeling soon enough so they had more time. Regret for not trying to run away from the empires that chained them. Now as she let him go and watched him leave with a straight face, she felt that.

Leaving him was wrong. Letting him go felt wrong. It hurt. Hurt so much. And even though she showed no emotion anymore and nor did he, she knew he felt the same and he knew how she felt.

It killed her more than she thought anything ever would.

OoOoO

1 year later…

She thought she had erased all the evidence of that night.

That night that they promised each other they’d tell nothing about. The night they promised that they’d never even whisper about. That night they promised each other no one would find out what they had done.

She obviously hadn’t held up her end of the deal, as there was now a small child in her arms. At first, when she found out after being sick for multiple weeks, she regretted not using protection, or being aware enough to even think of it. But now, she only felt a love for the tiny human in her arms, bundled in a tan bleak blanket. Soft quiet mewls, even if only being just brought into the world. The child did not cry and if she wasn’t so grateful for it, she’d be worried.

A boy, not but a few minutes old. He had brown hair like his father, and brown eyes that were so big she thought if they were any bigger he’d become a cyclops. He had her button nose and thin mouth. His cheeks bulged a little less than they should, and his tiny body was smaller than a normal child. He only weigh but a few pounds and she couldn’t help but laugh internally because during the prime of her pregnancy she had gained 30. He was beautiful.

Pytor Romonov .

Her mind instantly supplied and she smiled but only to him. She let the few moments of bliss with her child. Being close and radiating her love. She’d make sure he was loved. Krasnaya crosses her mind and she couldn’t help but imagine him kneeling next to her and touching the child’s, their son’s, delicate face. Smiling his soft general smile as the tiny baby gripped his finger just as he did hers when she held it out for him to grab.

The fantasy was broken when The Director came storming into the room ruined the moment. She was furious. And to the child’s credit he never raised his voice as she clattered in, But he did continue mewling more intensely, expressing his discomfort.

“ избавиться от этого” (Get rid of it.) she demanded curtly, expecting her to obey immediately. She looked up with defiant eyes, and brought the child closer to her chest. They had already discussed this and she had refused to take abortion medication. It wouldn’t have worked anyway, with her slightly enhanced body. They all mutually agreed that they’d let her have this child, but they trained her very hard and she was not excused from punishment. Still, despite her poor condition her body was in, the child that was growing within her was too stubborn to die. She felt proud of it, even if it had been unborn and left her weak.

She’d never felt so weak.

“Я не буду” (I will not.)she said simply. The Director flared in anger. She must have thought she would kill her child . But if these nine months of defiance was anything to go by Natalia- no Natasha- behavior, then she was a fool to believe she wouldn’t protect this baby with her life.

“ Вы не можете заботиться о ребенке и продолжать обучение в качестве Черной Вдовы. Я не позволю этому позору всех наших стандартов бродить среди нас. Убей это.”(You cannot take care of a child and continue your training as Black Widow. I will not let this disgrace of all our standards roam among us. Kill it.)she said quickly and frantically. Anger seeping into her voice and she’d never known the Director to use so much emotion in her life. She glared and that only caused the anger in the room to increase.

“нет.”(no) Natasha said quietly as she looked down at her child. He had started to cry even more intensely at the negative atmosphere clouding the room, and she couldn’t help but feel anger toward the Director for discomforting her child.

“Госпожа.” (Madam) The doctor spoke up meekly. The Director turned her vicious gaze to his hunched over form, which only served to hunch over more. She had to admit, he had balls. And even though it was because he wanted to dissect the unborn baby, but he was supportive of her pregnancy. She had tried to avoid him, but he had become her personally OB. Now She looked pleadingly up at the disgusting doctor, but he didn’t look at her. Only at his notes, trying to avoid the deathly gaze of their director.”«Это первый ребенок двух усиленных людей. Это может сделать удивительного солдата, если его правильно воспитать. Также мы можем обусловить его при рождении, это никогда не было сделано раньше, так как нам никогда не приходилось сталкиваться с этой ... проблемой.” (This is the first child of two enhanced individuals. It could make an amazing soldier if nurtured properly. Also we can condition him at birth, this has never been done before as we have never had to deal with this...issue.) he argued in her place.  she looked to the director who was seemingly and reluctantly mulling over it.

“ отлично” (Fine.) she allowed, angerily and reluctantly. No doubt planning an intense training procedure in her mind. Planning on ways of breaking her child before he had a chance to be built into something else. Something defiant. She hated how grateful she felt, this was horrible, but at least her child was still alive. The doctor’s smile was sickening. “ Но вы должны натренировать его, Наталья. Он не несет ответственности ни за кого. Я хочу обновления каждые две недели. Ваше обучение увеличится, это также жесткость. Если я недоволен его темпом, он будет уволен. Вам разрешается один месяц материнства, и тогда это начнется.”(But you are to train him Natalia. He is no one else’s responsibility. I want updates every two weeks. Your training will increase is rigidness as well. If I am dissatisfied with his pace, he shall be terminated. You are allowed one month maternity and then it will begin.) she left swiftly. This time composing herself in a second as she left the dank examination room.

Natasha breathed a sigh of relief.

OoO

3 years later…

Pytor was smarter than most kids his age.

Natasha couldn’t be more proud of him. She didn’t hide her sense of pride for him either, always whispering praises when other people were around - because praise to the young child wasn’t a tool, but an encouragement- and she’d speak to him softly when in the privacy of their room.

He had effectively learned Russian, French and German at once. They spoke in English when he was in her room with her though, just for a sense of Krasnaya. She knew if he was here, if he knew of their son, he’d support them. He’d be happy and proud of their family. It made her heart ache sometimes and Natasha wondered if Pytor  would ever want to meet his father one day.

Pytor loves to read. He was on a first grade level in most of the maths and sciences, which was incredible me for a child of his age to be so literate. He wasn’t even supposed to be reading, he was supposed to be learning the alphabet. He could crawl when he was two and was getting on his sea legs with walking. The doctors were pleased with the quick progression, and the Director was indifferent to it.

Natasha loved to tell him stories. All sorts of stories. Stories he didn’t understand but still enjoyed them. She told him stories about his father and how he loved him in the dark of the night in their room. She told stories of all the dumb things he did and it would make him giggle, which was small and soft and his smile was so bright. She loved to make him smile, just like how she loved to make Krasnaya smile. She couldn’t help her own smile whenever Pytor did it though.

Her little Petya.

“Mama?” he said to her one day after training. Pytor always watched her train. His eyes followed her graceful movements as he observed. He always watched her so that he knew what he’d be doing when he was older. It was teaching him how to fight without actually fighting. She told the Director that he’d start actually fighting when he was five - the age kids usually have mastered walking and running and are able to walk or run without stumbling. Natasha hates the fact that Petya had to watch her fight, even if he didn’t know the meaning of violence, she didn’t want it influencing his life at such young an age.

“Yes Petya?” she asked back a small smile forming on her face. They were in her room so it was okay. He asked questions a lot, but mostly to her in the room. He learned that he was scorned and never asked many things to the doctors or trainers, but Natasha encouraged him to ask questions. Seems as though he’d inherited her curiosity and she did not want to snuff out that intelligent light for as long as she could maintain it.

“Why am I not allowed to talk when you are dancing?” he asked in a childish and sweet voice. She looked at him sadly. He thought she was dancing?

“You’re almost like a dancer.”

She couldn’t help but smile. He really was his fathers child. It made her love him even more when he said and did  things along the lines of his father. Made her love him and hurt her just a little, but it was okay. It was almost like a piece of Krasnaya was with her when she was with Petya.

“Because I need to concentrate. I can’t concentrate when I have a cute little spider to distract me.” she tickled him in a way that made him laugh. She smiled. She called him little spider because when he had read a book about Spiders, he had found the Black Widow spider classification page, he seemed more invested in that page than any other one. He knew Natasha was called the Black Widow and it melted her heart and made her laugh when he asked if she was part spider.

“But you are graceful like one, Mama.”

“Then I guess that would make you my little spider.”

It was okay now. She was always okay when with Petya. Just like when she was with Krasnaya.

“I love you, Petya.” She said softly.

“I love you too, Mama.” Petya replies instantly by snuggling near where she had been sitting. She pulled him in closer to her chest and kissed the top of his head.

Everything was okay now.

A week later it wasn’t

The director banged into their room, she didn’t even notice herself standing up from her sitting position and Petya looked over from where he was reading next to her at the foot of the bed on the floor. He looked scared, not yet learning how to surpress his emotions and she wished that he’d never have to learn. She wished that he could express and act freely. Like normal kids.

The Director glared at him, but then a sly, foreboding smile crossed her face. Natasha couldn’t help but feel a dreading sense of deja vu and by the time she knew what was going to happen it was too late. The Director herself strides across the room in a few paces and snatch Petya off the floor before she could say or do anything. Before she could lung and try to take back her child, trainers had their hands holding her back as the Director walked out the door. She punched and kicked and ran, but she could not fight off all the trainers in time, and could only watch through her restrainirs as Petya got further and further away.

Petya didn’t make a noise. He didn’t speak or yell or cry. She was proud of him for being so brave and when - not if - she got him back she’d praise him for it. She’d love him for it. Love him for being himself. But her heart broke as she picked up the slightest voice.

“Mama?” It was soft and terrified and echoed longer in her heart than it did the hallway. He was scared. She had to protect him.

“ мы переезжаем его” (We are relocating him.)They told Natasha simply. Fighting her to stay down and that only made her increase her efforts to get to her son.

“I am his mother.” she said fiercely in English. Defending her child that was no longer by her side. She needed him by her side. She wouldn’t let him go. Not like she did with Krasnaya. She’d fight for this love, because she understood now. Understood that she had to fight for love. And she wasn’t going to watch her child be taken away from her without putting up a damn good one.

“That doesn’t matter.” They responded in English as well. She felt a glare of anger in her heart. Theirs was so heavily accented and she punched one of them when Petya was out of sight. She didn’t stop punching when he was gone.

Her vow became a promise.

OoOoO

Petya didn’t like it in the new place they had brought him to.

It was darker and dirtier than where he and Mama was. And this place didn’t have his Mama. It was scary without her because people that weren’t her were really mean. They didn’t smile at him even when he smiled at them. And the people who weren’t Mama that did smile at him only smiled when they hurt him with knives and scalpels and when he was strapped to a metal table with irritating light filling only his part of the room in the middle. He didn’t like those smiles, they weren’t safe like his Mama’s.

He wanted his Mama.

Somehow he knew he’d never see her again. Or at least for a really long time. Somehow he knew that made him sad. Sad was an emotion and Mama said emotions were okay only when in their room with her. But they weren’t in their room and Peter didn’t like being sad. It made him not feel good and Mama always made it better when he was sad.

But Peter’s sAd was really big this time and they weren’t in their room. He didn’t know if he could wait til’ he was in the room with Mama alone again. The new mean people were just as mean with him as the old mean people, but he felt lonely because Mama wasn’t with him with these new mean people. When he was lonely he was still sad, but it was much much worse. When Mama was with him, he never ever felt lonely, even when she couldn’t talk to him or he couldn’t talk to her. She still made him happy.

Somehow he knew he shouldn’t cry.

The old mean people didn’t like it when he made noise or showed emotion. Crying and laughing were doing both and they’d get really mad at him when he did those things, so he tried not to cry or laugh. These new people probably didn’t like it when he made noise or showed emotions either. It stung his eyes but he didn’t cry. Not even sniffle. Maybe if he was good he could see Mama sooner.

He’d make sure to be extra good then. For Mama.

They brought him to a room with white walls and a white floor. It wasn’t like Mama and his room because there was no bolted window and the walls were grey in their room and had books. There was nearly nothing in this room. There was a mat and a metal beat up bedside table with no drawers. The door wasn’t wooden like Mama’s, but metal and looked heavy. Like a door to a cell. There also toilet in a closet. But There was a cot too, and someone was on the cot.

That someone was not his Mama.

A man with a metal arm and long brown  hair and brown eyes looked up from where he was laying as Petya was tossed in by the new mean people. The man looked haggard and his face was blank, but it didn’t look mean like everyone else did. It also didn’t look nice like Mama’s was. It looked… indifferent, uninterested. It was better than snarls and sneers so Petya counted it as a blessing. They stared at each other for a while. Never breaking eye contact. His wide eyed stare reflecting back to him as a blank uninterested one.

They didn’t say anything. The man didn’t speak to him as he turned over and Petya didn’t say anything to him because Mama told Peter not to say anything to strangers. Petya creeped cautiously into the room, making sure not to make loud movements because sometimes the mean people didn’t like it when he was loud or moving. He went to the opposite end of the room in a corner from the man. Never took his eyes off of him. Mama always told Petya to be on guard and watch out for any dangers when she wasn’t with him. She told him to always keep his eyes on any threat or unknown especially in a new environment. To never ever take his eyes off of them.

The man was not a threat right now but he was unknown. And he was in a new environment. So Peter didn’t take his eyes off of him for a second.

They sat like this for hours until the light turned off with a loud echoing click. Like there was a lot of lights turning off at once. The sound echoed in Petya’s ears longer than it echoed. and the man just turned around and went to sleep.

Petya didn’t.

He wanted Mama.

He let himself cry in the dark, lack of light covering his tears. He didn’t sniffle or make noise. He made sure the tears soaked up in his shirt rather than fall to the floor.

He really missed his Mama.

When the lights came back on, a long time later, so did the man. He sat up on the bed and looked at Petya again, this time a flash of surprise on his face.

Petya was tired. And he felt heavy and laggy. He thinks he went to sleep when he blinked for too long, but he didn’t want to go to sleep without Mama. Mama meant that he was safe and he wasn’t safe here. He didn’t move from his spot all the time the lights were off. But by this time, the tears had erased all their evidence off his face. Or at least he hoped so.

The mean people came back and the man with the metal arm stood up and followed even though he wasn’t told to. One mean man stayed back and picked him up by his right arm roughly, it twisted weird and it kind of hurt, but Petya didn’t dare complain. They brought him to a window that was a bit dirty and looked into a room that was nearly black and still had no windows. There was a bunch of cage like fences making a circle and a flimsy door made of the same thing with a chain lock on it. Petya was told to watch as the man with the metal arm fought 20 people at once.

It was like Mama’s dancing...except with more blood.

OoOoO

1 year later...

Natasha was on a mission.

It wasn’t the one the red room gave her. Everytime they sent her out now they never let her do it with anyone. That was okay cause that’s how she liked it. That was how it was supposed to be from the beginning, but it wasn’t like that one time and she had her heart ripped out not once now but twice. Now solo missions were good It made it easier for her to find her child. She had no teammates pestering her about her whereabouts.

And her mission wasn’t to the Red Room. Her loyalty to that place has become as flimsy as a piece of paper. Her mission was to keep her promise to find her son. Maybe even his father, but the first priority was her son. If Krasnaya were here, he’d drop everything and sacrifice anything to help, she knew.

The director said that wherever he went, they had killed him for not being good enough. It made her furious because Petya was better than enough. He was everything. She didn’t believe that shit for a second. Petya was too fucking stubborn to die. She knew first hand how he presumed even when everyone scorned him, only focusing on her positive energy. It was like he could do anything with the smallest bit of constant encouragement and praise. And she was proud and relieved at that because she couldn’t show how much pride she really had for her son.

He was all she needed and Natasha would be damned if she failed him now. When he needed her most in his four years of living - he’d be four years old.  

The Director didn’t tell Natasha where they shipped her son off to either, and Natasha didn’t let that deter her. This was a big world and she wouldn’t stop until every inch of it was covered to find her son.

The red room was built on lies and death.

Sometimes, throughout the year Petya was gone, she wondered if she did the right thing, keeping the baby instead of getting an abortion. She didn’t regret having Petya when he was with her, but at the same time she did. Especially when she was him smile. She brought an innocent child into the world under horrifying circumstances and conditions. Conditions that would break him more than anything in this world, conditions more terrible than death. But Petya wouldn’t know that. He would know that people were actually nice and that they helped people and had families of their own. Petya probably thought the quiet and mean sneers were just how things were, and that Natasha was the odd one out. It was heartbreaking.

She wondered if he missed her, or even remembered her by this point. God she missed him so much . Like she had missed Krasnaya. She wanted to cuddle him and hold him tight and never let him go again. Focus all her love for him in their tiny world that had no room for such emotions under all the blood that drowned them. Shield him from the bad things even though they were surrounded by them every turn. Cover his eyes when people died even though she  was the one pulling the triggers.

Would he become a killer? Natasha didn’t like that thought one bit. Petya was too pure to kill. Too curious to do it without any hesitation. Or did he just think killing was normal too. That cause other people pain was just apart of life.

She was in Venezuela when she was hacking through different organization record of Hydra and other smaller underground groups that may have her child. The Director must have given him to one of her allies, or maybe just threw him out on the street somewhere far away.

She found absolutely nothing .

Again.

She wasn’t giving up.

She would never give up. This was all just part of the fight.

She shut the laptop and walked out of the private office that once had one man in it and now had a dead corpse, to go to the elevator.

“Hold the elevator!” said another man, she didn’t move as he squeezed in a little out of breath.”Thanks.” he mumbled sarcastically as they started to move down. The only noise was the horrid elevator music that was starting to irritate her. She was already in a bad mood for having a busy in this source. When the elevator reached the 20th floor, he spoke again.

“So what’s a pretty assassin like you doing in a place like this?” he asked in a low funny tone. It was almost annoying, if not for the hint of seriousness in it. Natasha glanced at him, but wasn’t surprised. He was Hawkeye, a SHIELD agent. She would be dumb to not know who he was. She wasn’t surprised about SHIELD being here, they’ve been after her for years.

“You here to kill me?” she asked just a lowly. No mocking nests in her own voice. Just quiet promises and threats. Even if Hawkeye was infamous in the underground spy world for his sniping skills, Natasha was fairly sure the Black Widow could beat him in hand to hand. And could beat him if he tried to run. Sniper usually weren’t as fast as her.

“No.” huh, that was new. She let the slight surprise stay inside her head as a note. They usually go for the throat by now. If he wasn’t, she would in the next 30 seconds. So he’d better make his case fast because she really didn’t want to have to go to the stairs because a corpse was in the elevator.

“You’d save a lot more people.” she shrugged, it was on him if he didn’t kill her now, she could kill countless more in missions that didn’t even exist. And the mission that she was perpetually on until she found her son.

Anything for Petya.

“That’s what my boss said. I agreed, but I think I’ll make a different call if you tell me what’s in that drive in your pocket.” he said and she shifted a little, but didn’t speak. He side eyed her. Like she’d actually let this man kill her with such important things at stake. And this drive wasn’t for Red Room purposes. “Something tells me it isn’t what you were supposed to go after.” He was good, this would possibly interesting.  they were silent for the rest of the ride down.

The elevator dinged and let them out of the bottom floor and he said one last thing.

“Whatever you’re looking for, I’d be down to help.” he said and slipped a piece of paper into her pocket discreetly. She was stunned for a second but didn’t let it show. What was he playing at. Probably something to trap her. Either that or he was typed. What ever one it was she would be an idiot for taking up the offer.

She threw it away after memorizing it.

OoOoO

The Soldier and the child didn’t talk for weeks.

Even as the Soldier was dragged out to be put in assignments. Even as the child was dragged out to be tested on. Even as they trained together. Even as they ate in the same room. Even as the lights went out and they both didn’t sleep.

Dr.Parker. That was the name of Petya’s Doctor. He told him his name on the day after he watched the man with the metal arm dance - they called it fighting though. No one ever told Petya their names before.

He wasn’t a nice man.

He opened Pytor up and stuck needles in him. He hurt him and electrocuted him. Pytor didn’t like when he had to go see him. The lab table was cold, colder than the one in the place where his Mama was, and the needles made him sick with headaches and nausea. They never did that before.

But what Pytor didn’t like the most was that he said his name wrong. In an American accent that was supposed to sound like German. It was terrible and left a bad taste in his mouth.

But he’d never liked the German language, so maybe he was biased.

He liked Mary though. Mary Parker was Dr.Parker’s wife and she said his name like Mama did.

Petya.

He liked it when Mary was testing him because she brought him books and let him talk to her if he had questions about Math. She didn’t strap him to a table and she didn’t yell at him for making noise. She smiled like Mama did, but a little different, so Petya didn’t ask about the no emotions rule, which seemed to be common sense here, but Mary never got mad when he was a little happy, because sometimes she got a little happy too(but sometimes she’d get sad and Petya would hold her hand gently like Mama did when he was sad, and she’d be happy again on her face, but Petya could tell she was sadon the inside. But that’s okay, cause Petya is sad on the inside too). She said he was smart and he was happy because not a lot of people were nice to him ever.

She spoke to him in English like Mama did.

He liked Mary Parker.

OoO

There was a little bit of a routine now.

Petya could expect certain things to happen like at least a little bit of training with Soldier and a little bit of testing with Mary. Sometimes testing with Mary would be replaced with testing with Dr.Parker in the dark lab, and his training would be shorter so he could spend more time with Dr.Parker. But he didn’t really like Dr.Parker

In between training and testing he’d get food and after the second part of the day he’d get food again but this time in the room with Soldier and then they had a little bit of a long time before the lights went out.

When he got back to the room with the soldier after training, just like everyday, they were instructed to eat. There was stale bread, mush and water- just like every meal. Sometimes Peter couldn’t eat because of the needles, and today had been a time when Dr.Parker replaces Mary. But today was a little worse than all the others (and sometimes this happened, but it was happening a lot more now) and left Peter so sick, that he didn’t want to eat. But when he didn’t eat fast or at all they took away his food and didn’t give it back until the next meal time- and then it would be gross and slimy because it was the same food. He would go hungry when the sick was over and the hunger pains weren’t something he liked very much. They hurt a lot even though no one punched him or hit him, and sometimes he couldn’t do anything but lay down and hear his tummy ask for food- and when it did that it hurt even more.

The fifth time he didn’t eat his food the man with the metal arm got up from the cot. Whenever they were in the room, the man never got up from the cot. Only when they had to leave or come in or to get the food that they threw down near the door- but sometimes when Oetya wasn’t too tired, he’d bring it because it was the nice thing to do. He took his plate and went back to the cot to eat. Petya didn’t make a move because his stomach hurt to much to even flinch. The man stared at him, Petya’s eyes were closed but he could still feel the gaze. He heard some shuffling and Petya’s eyes shot open. Petya watched the man with wide eyes as he grabbed Petya’s food and instead of going to the cot, sat down in front of him and started to eat Petya’s food. Good at least it wasn’t going to waste and he wouldn’t get slimy mush and really hard bread. But the man just  finished the mush and left the water and bread. He split the bread in half and handed it back to Petya with blank eyes, and Petya noticed a flash of expectation.

Pytor looked at the food and shook his head. The man pushed the water toward him and Pytor shut his eyes. The stale bread was normally order less, but the scent seemed really strong now and it made Petya’s stomach even angerier.

“Open your eyes kid.” he said in English. It was gruff and almost demanding, but there was a large hint of gentleness that only came into Mary and Mama’s English. Pytor could understand him and was so shocked. Not a lot of people spoke English in this place. He opened his eyes and the offending bread was still in front of him.

“I...d-don’t…” he stuttered his words in English and the man sighed and closed his eyes for a minute, as if trying to collect himself. Which was also weird because everyone else just let themselves be mad with Petya- except Mary and Mama, but they never ever got mad with Petya.

“Yeah, but you need to.” he said and kept holding out his hand with the consumable and after a bit of time Peter took it and nibbled at it. He then sipped the water(which kinda made himfeel better when he drank it slow), but he was too slow. When the mean men came back in, The bread and half finished glass of water was taken from him. The man went back to his cot and Petya went back to his mat to wait for the lights to go out.

When the lights did finally go out, the man tossed the other half of the bread toward Petya and it landed on the mat beside Petya’s head.

Petya finished it by morning.

OoO

1 year later…

Over the year, Petya and the man had gotten closer.

He also figured a few things out. As Mary had said, he was smart. This place (the one he was in now) was Hydra. The man with the metal arm that slept with him and helped him a little when he got sick, was known as the Winter Soldier. And according to whispers, they called Pytor “his kid” or “his son”, behind their backs. Pytor heard, The Winter Soldier didn’t seem to. He didn’t understand that part though.

But another thing he learned (even though no one said it, Petya just figured it out):The Winter Soldier did not like being called ‘The Winter Soldier’.

When Peter asked what he should call him, the Soldier just stared at him confused for a minute. As if no one asked him that question before.

“You can call me Pytor.” he whispered in the dark one night.”But you don’t like being called Winter Soldier.” He knew the Soldier heard him by how he tensed.

The Soldier never answered or called him by his name for a long time, so Petya never called him by his name (because he didn’t like it either). They never addressed each other properly, but somehow that was okay with them.

He was finally allowed to have books in their room now. Mary fought for that for him and he was really happy. He was only allowed one book in the room and he could read in the room with Soldier after they finished food or with Mary when she was grading his tests, but Petya sometimes had to read the books in the dark after lights out and sometimes if he was staying up too late Soldier would have to take the book away and tell him to go to sleep.

Pytor read them constantly and as much as he could whenever he could.

Sometimes the Soldier would look over sort of curiously, trying to be sneaky. Pytor caught him every time though. When that happened he’d get up and  sit next to the Soldier and read the book in a whisper beside the cot, translating it into English, no matter what language it was. He seemed more relaxed when people talked in English. But that was only with Petya, no one beside Mary and Dr.Parker knew English and Dr.Parker didn’t like speaking English and he doesn’t think Soldier knows Mary, or else maybe he’d have his own book too.

The Soldier would go out more than Petya did, like outside outside( the outside Petya was never allowed to see but always read about). They said he went For missions. But everytime he came back, he’d be confused and not recognize him for a few hours -that was a long time apparently- before he did and then he still didn’t talk to Petya, even after that.

“Peter.” the Soldier said one day and Petya looked up. He said it in an American accent, although he could say the name Pytor perfectly in Russian. He rather liked his American accent, it was calm and gentle. “It’s easier to say in English.” It took a second to realize that it was his own name. Just said in English. Which was kinda cool.

Peter.

He liked it.

It was a nice thing they had. Soldier didn’t smile that much, and when he did it was only in the room. It was small and almost not there but it was genuine and happy and Peter noticed it every time he did it. It was Something that he liked. But not how he liked books and asking questions. He liked it Like how he liked Mary and Mama.

Peter decided he liked Soldier too.

OoO

1 year later…

Soldier started acting weird when he came back from a mission.

It was like any other mission, except this time he wasn’t prepped. Usually Soldier had to be prepped before a mission, but recently he hadn’t been. To get prepped they drag him out to a room and he’d come back for only a minute to get something, but Petya could tell, Soldier wasn’t well... Soldier.

But they hadn’t been doing it as often lately. Peter suffered the backlash of this choice.

When Soldier would get back, he wouldn’t go to the cot or pat Peter’s head as he passed while

Peter was reading a book to get his attention. Soldier would pace around the room muttering in all kinds of languages Peter did and didn’t know, walking right past Peter as if he didn’t even exist.

When he wasn’t pacing he was screaming at the door, which was after lights out. Sometimes he even hit the door. He wouldn’t stay in his cot ever, and he wouldn’t eat, even if they brought food and Peter was being good and eating too. He would sleep either, Even when the lights went off and Peter was trying to sleep.

It became a pattern that was messing all the good little moments in Peter’s life in between training and testing with Dr.Parker, which was becoming more consistent now.  Peter didn’t like it at all. He didn’t get to see Mary often and Soldier was acting... scary .

When Soldier muttered, Peter couldn’t concentrate on his book. When Soldier paced, Peter’s appetite left. When Soldier yelled, Peter couldn’t sleep. When Soldier stayed awake, Peter had to train extra hard the next day(even though he was even more tired than Soldier sometimes).

Soldier stayed more, because he got less missions, because he was screaming so much. Peter hates that he wants Soldier to go on a mission, but just a little one (one that wouldn’t make this worse). Just so he could get some sleep.

Just for a little bit.

Peter wanted to help Soldier, but everytime he started to pace or hit the door or yell, Peter was frozen. All his thoughts left him, and all his emotions started to fill his body, which was bad enough as is but all the emotions that started to flood were bad and scary and made him mad and sad at the same time, and he really didn’t like those feelings cause they didn’t make him feel good. He couldn’t move. It was like he was paralyzed, like the stuff Dr.Parker used when Peter moves too much on the cold table so he can make him stop moving. Except there was no liquid or needles, and he didn’t get hurt, just scared. Peter hated it more than when Dr.Parker made him freeze.

They never removed Soldier’s weapons.

When he finally did realize this, He started shooting at the door with his big guns. The door was bullet proof. The gunfire sounds hurt Peter’s ears because they were so loud and close and the smoke made his eyes full of tears he wasn’t allowed to shed and made him cough a lot when there was no more bullets.

“Please stop.” Peter whimpered once, the Soldier whirled at him, with crazy eyes and walked over to him in a way that made Peter scared. Foreboding was the correct word. He had never felt so terrified to see another emotion besides indifference in Soldier’s eyes. This one was wild and panicked and almost insane. Soldier grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him.

“You can’t trust them. You can’t trust any of them. You can’t even trust yourself.” He hissed and Peter whimpered again, he didn’t know weather it was because the grip was too tight or the voice was so scary but as he was thrown back, he felt himself shake with uncontrollable fear.

What did he mean?

He never spoke when Soldier was yelling or shooting the door again. He never talked in front of Soldier anymore period . Not in training, or when he was eating. Especially not when he was quiet. Peter didn’t want to ruin it. He just needed the peace and silence to last as long as it could.

Peter told himself it was the smoke from the gunfire that made him cry. And only when it was dark did he let the tears fall and pretended they didn’t exist.

He knew it was a lie.

“Let me out you son of a bitch! Let me out and take me away from this hellhole! There ain’t anything here that’s worth a damn dime! You fucking hear me?! Just fucking put a bullet in my brain!” the Soldier screamed and Peter started to cry even though there was no smoke and it was not dark and it was really bad today.

“Please no.” Peter said quietly and the Soldier turned on him. Eyes wild and Peter was scared. The Soldier looked even more scared and pulled out his gun and pointed it at Peter.

Everything stopped.

They stared at each other. Like they did the first day they met. Peter being scared and sad because his Mama was gone, and now he was scared and sad because Soldier was gone too. He hiccuped and Soldier didn’t take his gun away from Peter’s temple.

Even as the guards poured in. Only did he take away his gun when he was dragged out, but even so, Peter didn’t move. He just kept crying, Soldier’s terrified eyes looking at him like he was trying to grasp something but just couldn’t hold on to it.

Peter never saw Soldier again.

OoOoO

:3

This was a bad ,stupidly crazy idea

It was probably the worst decision of her entire life. And She didn’t really give a shit about it. Usually she wasn’t so flippant about impulsive decisions, but it’s been two years since she seen Petya, and that felt like an eternity.

No one in the Red Room was going to help her, because they fucking thought Petya was a disgrace. The Director wouldn’t help her, she took him away in the first place, and pulled bullshit of telling her he was dead. She didn’t have any outside connections, and she wasn’t sure where Krasnaya even was. SHIELD might actually help. If not them, than Clint Barton actually had offered to help her.

Anything for Petya.

She told herself that and steeled her expression as she walked into the cafe and sat next to Clint at the end of the bar. She was just going to talk to him, see if this wasn’t a trap or ploy. See if he was actually genuine about his offer to help her, no questions asked ( which was fishy but she was running out of options here). He smirked and put down his menu.

“I’m not telling you what we are trying to find.” she said immediately. He didn’t seem surprised, she was a bit relieved that this could be casual and quick.

“Wow, you were quick!” he said, commenting on the fact that it had only been three days. She was desperate. “I thought you’d be more loyal to your ‘cause’ or whatever.” he teased and she looked at him and shrugged nonchalantly.

“Never had any other option.” she said honestly and ended that conversation swiftly. “But I know people don’t just give out handouts for free.” she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, trying to throw him off his game. His turn to shrug nonchalantly.

“Call it a hunch, but I think you are a nice person.” he laughed, and she was a little stunned at the accusation “Crazy right?” uh, yeah it was. Who in their right mind would call The Black Widow , a highly trained assassin who has no problem killing anybody, nice ? “But you’re right, I’ll help you and keep your little search under the radar, if you switch sides.” There it was. The catch but...

Join SHIELD? Was he crazy?

There were so many reasons she should say no. Saying yes shouldn’t have even been a consideration. Not for a second. But… she was more loyal to Petya than to whatever bullshit the Red Room had planned for her.

And then she thought about Petya when she finally found him. How he’d have a Mama that didn’t kill good guys. A place that wasn’t terrible and horrifying to live in. A Mama that helped people and showed him the kindness of the world, even through the black dark nasty things out there.

Natasha decided it was her time to press Fuck it.

Anything for Petya.

OoOoO

1 year later…

Mary wasn’t Hydra.

Peter found this out as she was running toward an almost futuristic looking plane. Like the one from his fantasy books. Like that one book, Divergent, but like the ones in the last book. He didn’t really like that last book, it was a bit anticlimactic.

He was dropped in the plane with her carrying him out of the compound like he was a sack of potatoes, and a man with thinning hair lead him inside, barking orders to everyone but him, and placing a gentle hand on his back as he lead him inside the plane. He looked back, to ask where Mary was but like magic Mary was gone too.

He never saw her again, and somehow, he’d developed a feeling for it. Every time he was going to lose someone, he just... knew . He hated that feeling a lot more than he hated anything else.

He wanted to ignore it, tell it that it was wrong and she would come back and so would Mama and Soldier. Even in that moment, where he was denying everything, as Mary Parker left the plane, he knew he’d never see her again.

Mama. Soldier. Now Mary.

3 out of 3. That was 100%.

Peter wasn’t stupid.

He knew that was everyone... everything he had.

He lost it all.

He felt more alone now than ever before. Even when the organization called ‘SHIELD’ took him, as he found out two hours in the flight (through eavesdropping and oh, yeah their bird logo. Was that an eagle?). It was another hour before a man with thinning hair, they had called Coulson, came to him in his room/cell thing (not like HYDRA’s cell/room thing, this one only had a metal table and him cuffed to the table). He wasn’t allowed to leave it, and he’d never had his own room before, so, by deduction, it was a cell.

Coulson opened the door and looked at him as he gestured to follow him to another cell, but this was was darker, with hexagon patterns on the wall and a metal table but this time with two chairs. They sat down at either end of the table.

Coulson looked a little too excited for an interrogation(that’s what this was, right? Because he was HYDRA), and had a weird smile on his face. Not like Mama’s, Soldier’s, or Mary’s, but not like the doctors either. His smile said that he knew was hiding something, but wasn’t as creepy as the ones in the HYDRA base. It was barely acceptable for a smile, Peter validated.

“Hello, I’m Phil.” Coulson said a bit giddily. Like he was nervous, which was weird too, because Peter  was usually the nervous one when having a conversation with an adult of unknown origin. “I’m excited. I’ve  never talked to a child soldier before.” Peter didn’t answer, just nodded his head. Was a ‘child soldier’ supposed to be like, important at SHIELD? Peter had never been anything important to anyone ever. At least not that he knew of. Phil then seemed to pause at his lack of answer. “Do you speak english?” Phil asked, cocked his head to the side, like Peter did sometimes when asking a question to Mary. He decided not to say that and, nodded “Great. Are you ready?” No one’s ever asked you that. He nodded once, in fear of the wrong answers. Because sometimes if he said the wrong answers, he’d get punished. “Okay, I’m going to ask you some questions.” Peter nodded again, curtly and shortly.

They begun.

“Let’s start with your name.” Phil said moving into a comfortable position that made it seem like he let his guard down, but the tenseness in his hand and shoulders gave him away (Was this a test?), shuffling papers around and holding up a pen to a pad of yellow paper with lines across them.

“I’m…” it’s easier to say in english . “Peter.” he said slowly. Sounding out the word he’d only said once before. Since Phil seemed to speak English to all his subordinates and naturally speak it to Peter, he guessed Phil would be more comfortable when Peter spoke his name in English too. Just so it was easier for him.

“Any last name?” Peter shook his head instantly. Phil nodded and wrote that down. (Should he be lying? But these people seemed like the type to see through his lies.) “Age?” Phil asked hopefully, Peter had to think on that for a second.

“6.” he mumbled. He sounded unsure. Mostly because that’s what Mary had said to him 2 months ago, he doesn’t know how he remembered, but Peter remembers a lot of things he shouldn’t. The number changed though, sometime in August, but it still changed every year.

“You sure?” Peter shrugged.

“That’s what Mary said 2 months ago…” he informed him slowly, and he must have been taken back by his voice, because at a higher volume it sounded raspy. He didn’t use it much after Soldier left and Mary started to replace Dr.Parker instead of the other way around.

“You’re being awfully compliant.” Phil said skeptically looking up at him as he wrote that down too. Peter nodded, but didn’t answer. Mary had handed him off to Phil, so obviously Mary trusted him. Peter wouldn’t trust Phil, but he owed it to Mary to answer the questions honestly.

“Were you raised in HYDRA?” Peter nodded after a second, he could barely remember being raised by his Mama. “To be a soldier?” another nod. “Do you know how to fight?” a shrug. He’d been training with Soldier, when Soldier left he still trained but with meaner people who didn’t pull their punches like Soldier did sometimes. They just knocked him on his ass.

“Afraid I’m going to need an answer.” Phil said, almost apologetically. It took Peter by surprise. No one that had just met him was ever this nice to him. Why was Phil being so nice? Did he want something? But if he wanted something, why not beat it out of Peter? Why ask him all these questions nicly rather than demanding them?

Despite all the questions, he rather liked that he didn’t have to get hurt to answer them. It felt...nice.

“A little.” He answered, a stunned but relaxed tone in his voice. He didn’t want to let his guard down, because he was in a new environment and Phil was an unknown.

“Okay, so … it’s okay if you don’t know this, but why did HYDRA take you?” Phil said and he just kept getting nicer. That was really weird, but he could tell that this was an awkward topic for Phil. Peter answered as best he could, because Phil had been so nice.

“I’m not sure...but I think I know what they...were going  to do with me.” Phil leaned forward in a nonverbal gesture to encourage him to go on. “They have been experimenting on me, giving me...or at least trying to give me powers. I don’t think it worked though.” Coulson leaned back, contemplating look on his face. Peter was shifting in his seat nervously. There was a long stretch of silence, where Phil didn’t write anything on his paper or said anything, and Peter was not given permission to speak. Until Phil finally spoke.

“Okay, I think I know who to get then.”

OoOoO

1 year later…

Natasha was an Avenger.

She had first become an agent of SHIELD, giving as many as the Red Room secrets as she could. In reward for that she became Clint’s partnr for most missions. Due to her skill set and ability she quickly became one of  Fury’s most reliable agent.

She immediately thought what Petya would think about it as soon as she joined the table of heroes. Would he be happy? Would he be mad? Would she have to fight him if he was still in an enemy organization? Would she even know if it was him?

He would be seven now, she’d never forget the day he was born. He had to look different. Natasha would have to work harder. But… would he still want to hear her stories, even if he was older? She would have so many more interesting ones to tell him, not just about Krasnaya, who was still MIA, but her missions with Clint and interactions with Fury. And eventually her adventures with the Avengers.

Maybe even the Avengers could help her. Clint had mentioned it to her in private after Loki’s attack and she said she’d think about it.Clint never gave away anything though. Not until she was ready. He never told anyone, even as they moved into the tower together with Stark and Rogers and Banner. Never even hinted at it. But she saw where he was coming from, Stark could hack into literally anything within seconds, and had so many backdoors, Natasha couldn’t even keep count. Banner was smart and could run DNA scans. Steve, well he’s always been a soldier, he’d surely help, so would Thor, she knew.

But...She just couldn’t bring herself to tell them. Stark and Banner would ask too many questions and Thor and Steve would give her a kicked puppy look if she didn’t tell them. Clint understood because he too was a spy, who had to protect some form of his past, whatever that may be. For the past two years he covered for her. He gave nothing away, and went on nearly every mission with her, just to help her.

And not with just her mission but other things too.

He’d make jokes, she’d never laugh. He’d try to compliment her, she’d hit him every time. He’d try to get her to open up, she’d never even crack.

He had every right not to help her. Not to trust her. And then he goes and brings her to meet his secret family that only Fury knew about. He surprised her in every way possible, and she may not love him like Krasnaya, but she loves him like family nonetheless. He was like an annoying sensitive brother, and Natasha fiercely hoped that Petya got to meet him one day. He would be such a good uncle and role model, and he knew that Clint would love her son too.

That’s when she started to do little things. Like make too much cocoa when she stayed awake at night, or accidently tip some glitter in the vents so it blew all over Fury’s office, or just roll her eyes when he made a joke instead of reprimand him.

In her defence they were really bad jokes, and she refused to laugh at dad jokes.

“Why’d you tell me about your family.” she asked in a hushed tone in Stark’s living room. There was no one there, but it was an air of privacy and show of respect. He looked up from his comic book (which what the fuck dude, you have kids )

“I trust you Nat.” he said simply and that was a punch to the gut. And okay, yeah, somewhere deep down inside her she trusted him too. But she hadn’t even told him about Krasnaya or Petya. And he’d given her so much. SHe felt like she owed him, and he knew it was stupid, and that he expected nothing of her, but that’s just how these feelings go.

“Petya.” she said and he looked confused, but sensed that this was serious, so put the comic book down. He was always good at reading her, just like she was at reading him. “I’m looking for Petya Romonov. He’s my...my son.” She said in a near whisper, she almost thought she hadn’t spoken at all but when she looked up to see Clint staring at her, she didn’t look him in the eye and averted them to the side. She hadn’t spoken about Petya out loud in years and it felt like it was relieving her of some weight on her shoulders and also repeatedly punching her in the gut with sadness and remorse. “He...he was taken when he was three...they said that he was dead but…” Clint dropped his book, in two strides he was by her side and hugging her. She allowed it even hugged back slightly, but didn’t let tears fall. The next thing was said in an even softer whisper and gripped him a bit more firmer.

“They lie.”

OoOoO

:3

Peter hated his General.

Phil was really nice, but the man he handed Peter of to wasn’t. Phil said that they were different from HYDRA, but they did the same things. They were exactly the same as HYDRA. And Peter hated it.

Phil said that General Cotnet would help him get a better home. He said he’d take him to Mary’s sister May and they’d take him in. But Phil lied  to him, his nice was deceiving nice. Cotnet did not have his best interests at heart and he certainly did not want to take him to May Parker.

As soon as Phil left, the air in the room with General Cotnet became one of predatory seeking, and Peter didn’t like it one bit.

“So, Peter.” he said in a sickly sweet tone. A tone that wasn’t at all sweet. “Do you understand the term, immigration .” Peter only nodded, backing a few paces and head down. “Use your words, Soldier!” Cotnet’s voice did not have the fake sweet tang to is anymore. It was aggressive and made Peter snap to attention, hands behind his back, straight spine, head up, just as he did in HYDRA. Cotnet had a pearly white smile, not like the gross yellow green one that the HYDRA instructors had. But it was just as creepy as theirs was.

“When people not born in the country that are not citizens come in.” he summarized in a monotone, and Cotnet looked down right giddy. Not like Phil though, he looked the creepy kind of giddy.

“Yes, and your aunt lives in America, from which you are not a citizen. Do you know what that makes you?” he asked and walked forward to lean in his ear, as he froze with Cotnet’s hot breath making his neck tingle. “It makes you an immigrant.” he said in a voice that sounded like it was disgusting. Peter didn’t see anything wrong with it. Cotnet stood up. “Usually you have to get a VISA, but since you are a minor and don’t have any valdictation, like a birth certificate, you are going to have to do this another way.” Cotnet said and Peter didn’t dare speak in fear of angering a superior. “Now, usually the government would give you an acception, being a war prisoner and all, but you are also a mutant-”

“I am not a mutant, sir. I was-” Peter’s timid correction was cut off with a intense harsh glare.

“You will not speak out. You are a child soldier. And you are a mutant. A disgusting one at that. You will serve in the the United States special forces, compensated with a temporary VISA each year so you can go to school for nine months of the year.” General Cotnet whispered bitterally. “This will be off the books, I don’t need SHIELD breathing down my back, but this opportunity is too great to pass up.” he mumbled almost to himself, but it was too loud. Peter was cowering a bit.

General Cotnet looked him dead in the eyes. And said in a voice that Peter dare not defy. “Do you understand?”

Peter only nodded.

OoOoO

Wade had seen a lot of messed up shit in his life.

Coming from an abusive household, he’d been pretty messed up himself. What with his mother hitting him and locking him in the closet when she wasn’t on her drugs, and his uncle molesting him whenever his mother didn’t give a shit, which was all the time. School wasn’t a sanctuary. Everyone knew that Wade was abused, the teachers, the students, hell even Stick Jo, the guy at the gas station 6 miles out of town knew what went down at the Wilson household nearly every night. No one gave a shit, and Wade went right on not giving a shit about them either.

That mind set carried with him when he left school for the army. He wasn’t gonna get no degree, he wasn’t smart enough to and he still didn’t give a shit about that either. He developed a sense of humor, messed up and twisted, but in any situation no matter how dire, he could find a joke ( no matter how controversial). It had no place in the army in Canada and still had no place when he was transferred to the US army’s special forces.

Somehow he got to this position. He didn’t know how the fuck he did, and he also didn’t know who the fuck thought this was a good idea, but here he was.

Yes, Wade has seen and been in a lot of messed up shit. But none of them were as messy and twisted as Peter Parker.

Yes, Peter Parker as a whole human soul thing. His entire existence was made to be utter shit. This poor child would get nowhere in life, because some motherfucker decided to fuck in the wrong place with no protection and then proceeded to put him in a tiny cell to be tortured by the people who were in charge of him.

Now he was in charge of him.

A skinny, small stick with brown hair and too big eyes. He was seven and looked like a four year old and had the sense of at least a 17 year old to shut up at all times (good survival skills kid, you might actually live through this). Wade didn’t want to remember his age or name, he never did with anyone on every squad he went on (and he transferred a lot ), but Peter Parker, seven year old sunshine child, was printed in his mind. He stared dumbly at the kid and the kid stared widely back.

He was a fucking kid. What the fuck was he doing here? With Wade, who was holding guns and swords, and let he just say, they were never on safety(he had no time to mess with that shit). Wade who swore way to much to be legal. Wade who didn’t know what a fucking childhood was supposed to be like. No, he did know actually. It was supposed to be white picket fence two siblings and a golden retriever. Parker’s life was more like iron bars, dead bodies and mean attack dogs. Although the kid somehow made any attack dog into the perfect domesticated pet with one glance. Magic puppy child. Why the fuck was he Around people who have killed so many people. Literal murderers and pedophiles. The kid looked like he couldn’t harm a fly.

Wades eyes traveled to the boys wrists where there were whip marks and purpling handprints and he didn’t stop staring until the boy hid them under his too long sleeves, cause you know he was a stick, and Wade gave him a snarky smile. The kid looked at the smile for a second, almost like he was analyzing it and gave his own shy smile. Wade blinked at that. What in the fucknuggets...

They wanted Wade to train him. They told him he’d stay for the summer before going to school in the fall in New York. And frankly that was just cold. Having the kid make friends and have a life and then deal with this shit only to go back and act like he’s completely not scarred. Just going to uncle Wades. Which you know shouldn’t be a traumatic experience, but a fun time with you know chess and shit (he didn’t know how to play sudoku, muchless chess. Checkers maybe?).

They basically made him a babysitter, which again, whomst thought this was a fucking good idea? He’d kill the bastard who did, cause this sweet innocent child did not belong here mutant or not. Apparently not, Parker didn’t have any powers except for that adorable Bambi eyes and that smartass brain of his, like stupidly smart. Like he could probably solve a medium level sudoku smart.

But whatever. Let’s fucking do this. Corrupting the children? Well, never done that, but let’s give it a go.

The kid didn’t talk the first week. They only gave Wade three extra ration bars for the whole seven days. Which what the fuck, the kid needed more. Especially if he was a mutant. Which was weird cause he never showed any signs of being a mutant.

Wade gave him the three and said have at it. If the kid needed more, he’d give him some of his share. But the kid never asked and he seemed okay. Later he found out that The kid separated it for two whole weeks. Like a lil’ mouse. Adorable but also, what the fuck?!(see survival skills, the kid should really teach a class)

“I’m not a mutant.” He was the first thing he said and Wade looked at him. He was looking down and his voice was small and raspy. It suited him, but also, totally didn’t “I don’t have powers.” He rubbed his hands around his wrists.

“Okay.” Wade said. He believed the kid. Way more than he believed General asshat.

The kid laughed. So he must have said that out loud. Like cool dude, thanks for not judging me.

“No problem.”

Wade took him on missions. No matter how messy. Peter didn’t flinch when he killed. Peter didn’t react. He just looked at the bloody bodies and shot them in the head. He was like fucking Hawkeye. He never took a second shot on a target...ever.

It was disturbing.

His hand didn’t even reach the trigger on its own. He had to use both because they were so small. Like a kitten, was this kid just all adorable animals rolled into a human being.

“I don’t like killing.” He mumbled one night in the floor. He never even questioned why he didn’t get a shitty cot, just a fucking blanket and a mat. He seemed comfortable down there though. Wade never offered, if the kid wanted something he had to ask, which wasn’t so bad, little brats did it all the time. Thing is, Peter isn’t a little brat. Not even an ounce of bratty ness or complaining. He never asked for anything...ever.

“Then don’t.” Wade answered. The kid seemed to like blatant replies and jokes, which is what Wade was good at. He never needed to sugarcoat anything, because this is a shit world anyway and the kid knew that. SO despite not liking kids, he liked this one.

“They get mad when I don’t.”Peter said sadly.

“I’ll kill them. You just knock em down.” Wade offered. He didn’t know why, the kid should learn to do his own dirty work, but then again, he was a kid.

“How do you not kill though?” Peter asked and sat up with his hand propped up on his elbows supporting his head. Wade blew out a breath. That wasn’t right. Peter shouldn’t know not to kill.

“I’ll show you.” He picked the kid up like the kitten child he was (ie by the scruff of his way to big hoodie) and took him to the range. He didn’t care if it was two in the fucking morning, they both weren’t gonna sleep anyway.

Kid was fucking smart. He got things in an instant. Wade never had to repeat himself. And whenever Wade praised him he smiled up at him with the big sunshine smile he could pull off. It was like UV lights and staring into them. Blinding, the kid was trying to make him blind.

So he’ll say this again, and he cannot stress this enough:

What the fuck!

Chapter Text

Chapter 4-I’ll Make you Scream

Present…

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering how I got in this position.”

“Among other things.” Fury responded dully to the boy covered in silly string, spray paint and glitter. Honestly it didn’t even surprise him at this point. But after a year of knowing Peter Parker, he just knew that there were things that would happen to him that would definitely surprise him; far more than this.

“Well Nicholas, as my good friend says, ‘when you hit rock bottom you can trace it back to one big bad decision that fucked it all up.’ ” Peter said almost sagely, slender finger pointed in the air as he recited the stupid but nonetheless true quote, and it looked ridiculous in that mask with glitter on it.

“Is this rock bottom?” Fury raised an uninterested brow. He’d expect a little more...blood. No actually he expected a lot  more blood. Yeah, like a boatload or two. Maybe some fingers or dead bodies. Oh and a shit load of fire.

“Physically, not really. Socially, eh?” he could hear the smile in his voice as a waved his hand in a so-so motion. He seemed to be gesturing bigger with his hands today. “You needed me?” ignoring the way Fury stared at him like he was demanding answers by changing the topic. If he had questions, which he did, he didn’t voice them though. Like verbally. Even though Parker knew the questions he wanted to ask. He was a little shit like that.

“Get in and try not to get glitter everywhere.”  Fury said not even gesturing to his car as he got in the driver's seat. He hesitated before climbing into the front seat next to him, fidgeting a bit in his place, despite Fury’s request not to mess up the sleek black BMW.

“We have a mission?” he squeaked, a little too high for it to be intentional, and Fury raised another brow. The kid was never usually had reservations about missions with Avengers. No matter what, even if they treated him like shit or he had just been run over by a train. When he was available he came.

“What’s up kid, you’re usually never embarrassed.” Fury sent a smirk his way. Peter only faltered for a second, which should have been a red flag because the kid had no filter between his brain and mouth.

“I usually don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.” He said honestly, as if observing that fact of himself. That made Fury snort at how casually he said it as he pushed the kid in the front seat. Despite him not wanting to get glitter everywhere. That gained a surprised but nonetheless delighted laugh out of him. Fury only had a small smile on his face, and he’s sure Parker noticed, but he didn’t comment on it. Peter was weird like that, commenting on every little thing that doesn’t matter, and that was annoying. But it was nice that he knew some small things were rare, and enjoyed them in peace.

Parker needed more good small things in his life, but Fury would never admit that he thought that.

“Yeah cause a bright red and blue spandex is nothing to be embarrassed about.” Fury said back with no heat, just an amused tinge in his tone. Peter made a mock offended sound.

“Wow, I’m taking offense. You know what? No, I’m fucking proud of my glitter.” Peter declared and then the bone dead tiredness of the past four days sunk in. He hadn’t slept, and he hadn’t eaten in 2 days. He was tired and he could feel it. He could also feel the gnawing at his stomach, but he sucked in the growling until he could get to a place where the noise could be drowned out, he’d know Fury would notice in the nearly silent and almost soundproof car. Peter scuffed his feet on the rubber flooring of the car, smearing glitter and tinsel. “Do you really need me today?” something in the kid’s whiney voice was tired. It almost made Fury stop, but only because that it had enter his tone, and let the kid off the hook for the voice.

“Depends on what happened.” Fury said casually and shrugging. Referring to his obvious new paint job he had with his suit. Peter huffed quietly as he leaned his elbow on the window and rested his head on his hand, not looking at Fury but out his window.

“You fall asleep for 15 minutes…” Peter grumbled indingently, Fury wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that or not but That actually made him bark out a quick amused laugh. Peter looked owlishly over at the sound before realizing what he said wasnt gonna let him off the hook, but only make him look stupider. Then went back to sulking in his previous position with a louder huff.

“Yeah, kid you ain’t getting out of this one.” he said with a playful smirk, even if he didn’t really have to say it, he just wanted to rub it in. Peter responded by letting out a whine and squirming in his chair. Looking like a kid, but also trying to find a comfortable position for the rest of his body. He wouldn’t complain anymore, he was too old to complain.

You’re too old to cry.

Eventually they got to the Tower, Peter dragged his glitter coated feet and silly string trailed after him, and Fury was 89 percent sure that he was doing it on prupose. As soon as he walked into the briefing, Fury started to almost regret not saying that the kid could be let off the hook this time. But the team needed him for this mission(for all of these missions), even if they didn’t know it. Even if Peter didn’t know it either, and was only here to be a little shit. Fury wasn’t gonna let a little sparkles get in the way of saving the damn world (again). Even as Sam and Clint fell down laughing and crying and the kid hunched a little before pulling back up to his slouched height.

“I don’t even know what to say!” Sam said laughing so hysterically he was nearly crying. The kid still wouldn’t take off his mask, but he hunched in a again little before straightening himself out. “There are too many things to say!” He blurted and Fury notices that everyone who wasn’t stifling their laughter was giving him an evil eye (ie, Romanov and Rogers)

“That’s because I can actually pull this off.” Peter said back snarkily, crossing his arms over his chest as if he was satisfied with himself. Fury had to hand it to the kid, he was cowboying this like a champ. But he wasn’t out of the water yet, in fact it was only just the begainning.

“Do you think this is some kind of joke?” Romanov said a bit venomously and Fury could tell that Peter rolled his eyes under the mask. Like everything he did was reprimanded by the older spider themed superhero. She probably did, because Romanov held Parker at a higher standard, especially now that he knew about her kid.

“Yeah, a bunch of punks played a practical joke on me. I bet I look hilarious.” Peter said back (as if he wasn’t a punk himself), not defiantly though (as it should have been), just a curious statement along with a twinge of sarcasm, that only he seemed to be young enough to pull off (honestly he probably was the only kid who could even pull off that). Hell, he was never going to be old enough to not pull it off with the way his lifestyle was. He was like a mixture between a kid and a very mature 19 year old. There was no in between and Fury had a feeling it would stay this way until he was 70.

“How did a bunch of kids play a prank on you?” Steve asked confusedly, striding over to Peter to stand a few feet in front of him like a the kid was a soldier and he was a disappointed commander. And it didn’t matter how much Rogers wanted that, it wouldn’t happen as long as the kid had his shit list/ people I have to fuck with agenda in existence . “Didn’t you notice?” he crossed his arms, Peter mimicked the motion but hunched in a little more than Rogers, slouching. That was a very good question though, Parker’s senses were way above even the super soldiers, he must have noticed them.

“I fell asleep.” he sighed. Which he did, he passed out from exhaustion cause he hadn’t found a good place to sleep in three days and Matt was out of town and Wade was being Wade but in like Canada. He couldn’t ask Weasel to crash on his couch in the bar without arousing suspicion because he spent all of last week there. Cause Weasel was a fucking rat and would out Peter to Wade if he found out he didn’t have a home because he missed the lease on his storage box. And Weasel was also a glorified coward, don’t get him wrong he owed the guy for a job, but as soon as you even snarled in his remote direction he’d give everything he knew in a heartbeat.

“On the job?” Tony snorted mockingly and Peter huffed a little. It wasn’t entirely his fault. His ‘job’ didn’t really stop, or had a time frame, it kinda just happened (as Peter so eloquently puts it). Not like the Avengers’. You try protecting a city, maintaining a paycheck, and being hounded by literally everyone in the goddamn world 24/7, Stark. You have the fucking ability to go to sleep, it’s a choice for you not to take care of yourself. Peter didn’t have the damn time to fucking take care of himself (which should be a problem but he was fine) . It was simply a luxury he couldn’t afford, both mentally and financially.

But who needs health when you have energy drinks and painkillers.

Health...so stupid.

“I don’t think that part of it has anything to do with you.” Peter shot back defensively, maybe a little more snappish than he wanted it to be. That should have also been a warning sign Fury so graciously ignored. “And if you think that glitter and tinsel aren’t gender appropriate or whatever then you are a bunch of conservative assholes who really need to suck it up and get woke.” Poor Cap must be confused beyond all hell right now. But honestly, that outburst (which was uncalled for on many accountabilities) should really have made their heads turn to something was wrong with Peter.

But here they were, kept on ignoring the fact that somethings was fucking wrong with the kid.

“It’s more of an age thing, but take your pick I guess.” Tony replied with a shrug not at all affected by the comment like most of the other Avengers. Natasha wasn’t either, but she was not amused by it. “But hey, if you like glitter then you do you.” Peter gave an affirmative nod. Like he was satisfied with that answer.

“Thank you.” he said wanting it to be the end of the conversation. Rogers apparently had other plans though. It made the kid even more exasperated and snappish when he went on to tell Peter off. Again.

“Soldiers really should wear appropriate attire for the terrain they are fighting on. It matters and shows how well you actually take your job seriously-” Rogers was digging his own grave now. Welp, it was nice to know him. He really should have let Stark end it, he seemed to know how to take a hint.

“Okay let me just stop you right there,” Peter said cutting off the the good captain off in the most unnecessarily blunt way. While again, gesturing with each statement. “One: I’m not a soldier. I don’t like being told what to do cause I’m a teenager and all that rebellion shit. B:no I don’t care that I said shit it’s just a word, it ain’t gonna kill your kittens. Lastly: I take it as a personal offense if you think I’ve taken this” he gestured to the Avengers “seriously, at all. That’s not my thing, and frankly I’m appalled you’d even suggest such a thing.” Peter finished off and walked past Rogers right to the window to sit on it. Romanov stiffened a bit, probably rethinking her decision to recruit him, but it was too late. Despite all that he said, and maybe some of it was even true, Parker did take his job seriously sometimes. This wasn’t a walk in the park for him either. “So without any further interruptions, can we get this over with cause my cloths have a hot date with a dry cleaner. Glitter is really really itchy.”

Fury wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

OoOoO

For a kid covered in glitter and tinsel, he did a fucking good job.

He cleaned up the trash like he normally did. Maybe even better because even robots seemed to underestimate a 5 foot 5 person in spandex and sparkles. Defiantly faster than normal, if he was being honest. Parker must really want to take a shower or something, and Fury couldn’t blame him. He could still kick their asses though. It was at the end of the fight that Fury really finally noticed though.

Through the swinging and the kicking and punching and lasers and bullets, the kid was getting sluggish, much quicker than he normally did (and Spidey was the last to get sluggish in a battle because he seemed to have an inhuman energy supply). Lazily changing webs with heavy limbs and swinging higher to avoid fighting unease art targets to save civilians only. He didn’t really bother with robots that were doing nothing this time, sometimes even completely skipping over pods of them if an Avenger was near enough to deal with it. Aiming to kick the robots off their feet when they bothered civilians instead of actually engaging and fighting them hand to hand in ways that would put them out of commission for good instead of just throwing them off their games. It worked and he did his job, it just wasn’t normal for him to pick them off like this. Usually he’d corral them and fight them all almost at once.

By the time they got back to Avengers Tower, the glitter had mostly shaken off him-leaving a very sparkly battlefield wherever he had fought or swung over- and were stuck in crevices and indents that he had left in the robots. The kid was almost looked out of breath, managing to still stay straight and his breathing was almost sounding normal, but his chest was moving too fast and his movement was jerky and slow. It took Fury a minute to realize he was witnessing Spiderman being   tired . When he did it nearly knocked him off his feet with shock, because even though it was a perfectly normal thing for someone to be tired after a battle, the kid usually wasn’t easily worn out, much less show it when he was. He usually had a seemingly  infinite reserve for just that( along with the endless supply of facts about advanced STEM methods and achievements that he was sure not even Stark knew, and mindless questions that somehow made their way into the forefront of his mind on the most inappropriate times. Ie when he was trying to focus or sleep.)

“Mission successful but…” the stern voice had been somehow ignoring the child who was slouching in his seat for the whole meeting, but finally the big holographic heads turned to address Spiderman directly, and the kid was too out of it to notice that all heads turned to him. Probably thinking that he was off the hook when they didn’t immediately bash him for it. Allowing his guard to loosen (which also never happened and now Fury was kinda getting worried, but he’d never admit to that) just enough to make him startle at his code name.

“We reviewed the footage and your attire…” They really didn’t need to say it. Everyone knew he looked like a goddamn fairy princess had thrown up on him and threw him into a pit of glitter.  Fury winced at the noticeable bits of glitter still stuck on the boy, seeming to amplify the sparkle under the lighting of the conference room. “It is less than exemplary. While We can reluctantly tolerate you’re inconsequence to your rash disregard to rules for the sake of our respect for your Director, but this is a clear disrespect to our entire standing.” He said harshly, letting his voice spit out the poorly disguised insult. Fury thought he saw Peter flinch a little as the voice rose a bit.

“You should be grateful we don’t arrest you and send you to the raft or even the icebox . You’re getting more out of hand than Fury’s authority applies, with no explanation, and your kind is always noted to be on the opposite side of the law.” Said another council member, as if Parker wasn’t even human enough to be considered a person (Though fairy wasn’t entirely sure himself). That made Peter bristle and the others wince. Peter did have a thing about mutants rights(although he never defended himself, he always defended others) but Fury didn’t think the Avengers knew that. At least they were empathetic enough to know the council members had crossed a line.

“Then why haven’t you? If I’m so much trouble, why not send me?” He growled out with so much poison it even took Romanov off guard. It was deadly and scary and said that they had defiantly crossed a line. The Council wisely decided not to answer and Stark quickly found his autopilot and ended the call- but that’s all he seemed to be able to do until Peter lifted his spell. “That’s what I thought.” He crossed his arms with a huff and all the tension and malice that was building around him and expanding into the rest of the room seemed to vanish in an instant. Fury silently breathed as did the rest of the Avengers. Sure, the council members stepped out of line, even the Avengers could see that. But what in the everloving fuck was that?! Peter didn’t seem to notice the unasked question or didn’t humor them with an answer as he slumped further in his chair, with no doubt a pout under the mask.

“What’s the icebox?” Sam asked after a bit, that poor soul. Peter didn’t answer him though, just managed to look childishly upset with the mask on.

“It’s a place where they send mutants and inhumans if they do illegal things.” Natasha managed to answer. It was an understatement, that place was a literal hellhole with the worst kinds of psychopaths- definitely no place for a kid. But that about summed it up as far as a person who wasn’t either a mutant or already in the loop needed to know.

“I’m surprised they threatened a kid with it. It’s brutal there.” Tony states with thoughtful honesty, but Fury could detect a bit of concern (Fury was his fair share concerned too. why the fuck were they threatening Parker with prison now?) . Natasha studies the kid for a second, contemplating his mood and motives. Trying to figure out just what was going on in that brain. Well good luck to her, cause not even Fury could figure that mystery.

“Why didn’t they just say the Raft. That’s what they use for us.” Sam asked confused, clearly not getting the hint to shut up about it. Yes while there were mutants in the Avengers, the Raft was made under US government jurisdictions, the Ice Box was a UN thing that was a lot shittier and way more of a threat than the Raft ever could be.

“They didn’t threaten me with the raft because they don’t have…” Peter trailed off, not really speaking loud enough for him want be heard by everyone, but everyone heard anyway. Natasha managed to look surprised now, she must’ve figured out something that Fury wasn’t looking for. Peter straightened a bit when all eyes were on him. “They don’t have power dampeners there. Enhancements don’t count as a mutation because that’s… muscle reconstruction… in my case I was…” Peter paused like he didn’t want to answer the rest of the question but he’d already dug himself in this hole too deep, everyone was expecting him to finish now. “My DNA was mutated as well giving me powers. If your enhanced your DNA doesn’t change.” He said gesturing to Steve and then shrugging. It wasn’t what he was going to say before, it was probably censored and what he would’ve said before could’ve gave a lot away.

Damn his vigilance.

“They take your powers?” Clint asked a little surprised. But Fury knew that Clint wasn’t surprised at the fact they took the powers away; he was surprised that they threatened to take a child’s powers. Barton might not be a mutant, but he knows that a mutants health is based on their powers too. Especially a child.

“‘S not that bad. Just feel a little sick, cause I wasn’t…. it’s really okay.” Peter cutting himself off not ready to share the good stuff. Even after the year they’ve been together (although it wasn’t a very productive year in the terms of personal exchange between the Avengers and Parker). Fury sighed.

“Take the mask off kid.” Fury ordered, sick of trying to read the kid with the mask on and spitballing his feelings. Peter sighed and took it off, not arguing but Fury could tell he didn’t want to do it. He regretted asking the kid to do it immediately.

Now Fury, looking at Parker’s mask free face, regretted letting him come on this mission at all. He looked like shit- to put it lightly. His face hollowed like he hadn’t had a good meal in a while. His dark nearly black bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t gotten sleep in the last month. He was trying to wet his cracked drying lips to pass the awkward showcasing of his exhaustion. What was holding this kid together?

“Well, this has been nice. I’ve gotta go.” Peter said with a mock friendly voice and made a beeline for the elevator, trying not to look at the Avengers in fear their temporary stunned state would evapaoate before he could go.

Unfortunately, for him, it did. Steve stepped in front of him before he could get the last 5 strides. Everyone was kind of relieved in a way that he managed to get Peter to stop and not go around or dodge like he would’ve if he was t so tired. Peter sighed like he’d expected it. but he still looked a bit surprised when Rogersmoved his arm when Peter tilted his head to look at his goal. “That kinda means I’ve, you know, gotta go . As in leave .” Peter explained, trying to get the man to move, prepared to only go around him once.

“Yeah, and this means I’m not letting you. As in stay .” Steve shot back and if Peter wasn't surprised before, he sure was now. Captain America sassing him into staying. It worked enough to make him freeze his every limb and look up at the older man with wide raccoon eyes.

“Why?” He asked in a curious childish way, tilting his head only slightly. Like a toddler asking why the sky was blue or how birds fly. That voice shouldn’t be coupled with those tired eyes.

“How long have you been awake?” Steve asked instead, in his commander voice, and to his credit not being visably shocked at the contrast in appearances Parker had been giving off since he came in. It was like he thought it was the only thing Peter would respond to, which uhh, rude . And no, he would probably respond to that voice last if anything.

“I just told you I was pranked cause I was sleeping.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows, like he didn’t understand why Steve was asking the question. Steve mimicked the look, taking a second long to answer.

“Cause you passed out.” Bruce stepped in suddenly. His deadpanned voice being a relief to the order and professionalism of the conversation  that Peter couldn’t seem to wipe out. Peter whipped his head over to the doctor.

“I did not ‘pass out’. I just wanted to sleep.” Peter retorted “it was intentional. Completely and totally on purpose.” he huffed and crossed his arms like a child would.

“Yeah sure kid.” Tony snorted in disbelief. “You seriously need sleep, and that’s coming from me.” he looked at the kid and scrunched up his nose. And if Stark was saying that the kid needed sleep, then he probably needed a weeks worth of it. “And a bath.” He added, and Fury couldn’t help but agree. Peter glared at him, but the look had no heat.

“And some food.” Bruce put in helpfully. Or not so helpful because Peters eyes grew a bit panicked, for some reason. Banner didn’t seem to catch it as he went on. “Really just rest, why don’t you-”

“Bye.” Peter said backing up near the window and opening it and jumped out. As he probably would have before, had he not been too tired to notice it.

The Avengers sighed.

OoOoO

5 years earlier…

James “Bucky” Barnes was fucking Krasnaya.

The man she’d loved, and had been in the searching for was Steve Roger’s best friend. and now Steve was asking her to try and find him. Because he had gotten a tip about the Winter Soldier, that Natasha had been presuming and she had originally asked him for help, but then they found out the identity of The soldier and now Steve was asking her to make a different call and not to kill him. Like she was ever going to kill him in the first place.

So she agreed, because she wasn’t sure if she was ready to confess what she was feeling just yet. She wasn’t ready to tell Steve about the Red Room and HYDRA. She wasn’t ready to tell Steve about their child. Hell she didn’t even know if she was ready to tell Krasn- Bucky.

She was mad. Mad at Steve for making her do this- even if she wanted to do it anyway. Mad at Clint for not being here for her to vent. Mad at Kras-no Barnes, for leaving her with her son alone- even if they had no choice and he didn’t know.

Their son.

Even on that bunker she looked him directly in the eye, and he’s stared at her like he’d seen a ghost. Trying to remember her as they were Pointing a guns to each other’s head. He wouldn’t remember- even if he promised and Natasha feels angry that he forgot that promise too. Steve was not too far from her, trying to coax him to put the gun down, to tell him that she was a friend as if they hadn’t already known each other, but it wouldn’t work.

His eyes were fixated on her, and only her. A painful memory trying to escape and come into light to remember who she is. She could tell he was trying to have a memory of her. She knew she looked familiar to him. That haunted look in his eye, it was clouded by confusion. Like he needed confirmation.

She rolled her eyes, put her gun away and walked up to him, Steve stopped talking to him as she strutted up quickly, soon it turned into almost running. The feelings and emotions and pain made her go faster and she wasn’t sure if she was crying but right now she didn’t care. She was Running to her love, her family . The family she built in hell. The family she wouldn’t stop trying to find. The family she loved and lost. Slowly it would come together again. This was just proof of the hope she had wasn’t all for nothing.

He didn’t shoot her. He wouldn’t shoot. He couldn’t shoot. He pull the trigger as she walked up, but he had the panicked look in his eye, like he wasn’t prepared for whatever she was going to do. He didn’t know what to do. He froze. He didn’t shot when she kissed him long and hard.

“Natalia.” he said. It was confirmed when she didn’t answer. “Natasha.” he said and she smirked against his lips. Sealing the confirmation as he kissed back, albeit far more gently.

“Finally remembered?” she asked when they broke apart. “I thought I was unforgettable.” She said snarkily.  He smiled in a way that made her heart melt. She missed that smile.

“You are.” he said, and looked at her before the smile turned down into a frown. She raised an eyebrow. “I have to go.” he said going to pull away and she grabbed his arms tighter. She couldn’t loose him again. Not to this cruel world.

“No...you can’t” she said almost frantically, she didn’t know how she was going to tell him. She thought he was dead and thenfound out he wasn’t and then went on a submission to find him now. BUt now that she was here, and he was looking at her. Begging her to give him a reason to stay. She did. “We have a son.”

She heard Steve gasp(because he must have been quietly confused the entire time at the interaction between the two assassins). Barnes didn’t know how to respond, stayed stony and silent. She could tell that he was immediately in.

She still had a lot of explaining to do.

OoOoO

Present...

Fury dragged the kid more often than not.

It wasn’t a worrying fact, but it was a queer observation. The kid allowed himself to be dragged, as if he didn’t want to go but he also didn’t really care; and it really didn’t seem like much of a chore since he was so small. It was normal for them by this point, albeit the first time he did it, the Avengers were stunned into silence for a minute. I mean who wouldn’t  be surprised by the esteemed Director of SHIELD dragging in a teenage punk in spandex to an Avengers mission?

There were  a million questions when Peter first ‘joined’ the team, nearly none of them were asked verbally, even fewer were answered by neither Peter nor Fury. He didn’t really join, more like helped and then disappeared for a week or two. It was ‘ just take the kid, Stark.’ Peter hadn’t protested to it, although he did side eye the window, and Tony was pretty sure he wanted to make a break for it (out the fucking window). Tony didn’t know back then that the kid could jump out of a 70 story building and still be fine, so the thought that he was suicidal crossed his mind for a brief second. And then the second thought was: why the fuck does Fury have a kid? The third thought was: why is Fury giving me a kid? In hindsight, he probably should have wondered who the kid was, but he was so caught up in the fact that he was a kid, he didn’t really have time to dwell on it. But Fury wouldn’t answer his questions, so he took the presumably suicidal kid to the mission room.

He wasn’t exactly wrong.

The first mission they had together, he didn’t even try to listen to Steve. He just threw his small body at a freaking alien robot centipede that was shooting lasers directly at him. Somehow he got out of that situation visibly unscathed, but after the mission he was yanked to the side by Steve in the jet and lectured on ‘ turn your goddamn comm on!’ Peter looked at him confused, but didn’t say anything for the first 30 minutes, as Steve’s yelling got louder, and the kid’s face got more confused. Tony couldn’t help but notice, he wasn’t scared of the yelling, in fact it seemed like he was used to it. When Tony looked closer he noticed something else, the kid genuinely didn’t understand why he was being yelled at, and Tony had to give props to him for not asking or snapping at Steve sooner. Because when you were being yelled at by Captain America or any adult for that matter (at least when you’re a kid), you didn’t think about what you did, you just kind of assumed you did something wrong.

Not this kid.

“What comm?” he interrupted, finally giving up on trying to figure it out through context clues. Steve went silent and stunned and didn’t seem to be moving anytime soon. That must’ve been a new record and had Toony finally thinking: Who is this kid? (Although not under the appropriate circumstances, still plausible within first meeting) He was then quietly taken to the side by Clint (Because Steve was currently a mix between illiterate and guilt ridden to explain himself for yelling at a teenager for 30 minutes straight for his own mistakes) who explained the communication system they had in battle. The kid didn’t cry though, not even close. He didn’t seem sad at all, just neutral. Or maybe bored. Cap’s speech hadn’t affected him in the least.

The kid was a mystery.

Tony then made a mental file for Peter Parker:

1.)He seemed to pick on things really easily. (it was literally impossible to sneak up on him) He notices things even Natasha doesn’t notice sometimes.

2.) He also seemed to be more on the rebellious side of independent. But he also follows orders when he wants to. Sometimes it wasn’t even out of rebellion, actually it was mostly not out of rebellion. Okay, he was independent.

3.)He throws himself in front of anything and everything that harms even a stray cat (especially a stray cat actually), but he usually goes for the stuff that does the most damage first.

Tony’s been on over 30 missions with him, and that’s the only thing that is consistent: He follows orders when he feels like it, but it was hard to tell when he would. He didn’t have a particular mood for following orders, he kind of just did it or didn’t, so it was a toss up whether or not he’d actually listen. Either way, he got his job done exceedingly well despite what everyone says to him that he screwed up (which no, he only screwed up orders, so Tony never told him of, because there was less casualties when Spidey did his own thing. So he wouldn’t reprimand the kid for doing his job well, but he also wouldn’t stop the others from lecturing him about orders).

Sometimes Tony thinks the kid is just playing them all for fools, because even though he’s a kid and supposedly has dropped out of school for this superhero/vigilante gig he’s got going on, Parker wasn’t   stupid . The opposite, in fact. He was clever and quick-thinking, seeming to formulate ten contingency plans for when he thought the original plan would go balls up. And he always expected every plan to go balls up (which was smart, but also infuriating because he never had any faith even in his own plans. He just never had any faith in plans, period). He’s never really shown anything, intelligence wise, but his in-battle smarts; Tony figures it must take some sort of calculation to get the web to hit where he wants it to every single time. There is no way he’s so lucky as to have 100 percent accuracy without some form of basic math or physics (but none of the basics checks out for web slinging).

Peter talked too much, but he never gave anything away. It was frustrating when you were trying to read him or dig up something personal, and the mask certainly didn’t help especially when trying to know his emotions. If the conversation got too personal (Tony hasn’t really found the line, but he knows he’s close) Peter would just change the subject or jump out of a window - or off a roof, it really depended on his mood ,location and the weather.

He seemed to know exactly what everyone was gonna say, and exactly how to read everybody in the room (like Natasha, but like a kid that was male and could speak 70 miles an hour to a criminal while webbing them up). The only way Tony found this out was by observing the kid for literally 5 seconds instead of yelling at him immediately upon his arrival. He knew what to say, when to say it and how to say what he wanted without any regard to consequences. But he still knew what the consequences were, and didn’t give a shit.

It was terrifying.

The kid never really stopped talking, not even when nobody was listening. He seemed content with talking to himself or whatever voices that were in his head (Tony was 56 percent sure there were voices in his head, but Tony wasn’t judging, they all had voices in their heads too, quiet voices that never really talked but never really left you alone, or maybe that was just him? He doubt Steve had a voice in his head telling him to work and build and shit). Tony’s caught him through the comms once, yelling at something that wasn’t there, and that was probably the maddest he’s ever seen the kid. He was happiest when he was talking to someone that didn’t actually yell back, mainly that came in the form of a dog, cat or other domesticated animal- hell they didn’t even have to be domesticated, Tony had found the kid holding a decent conversation with a racoon once, when they were waiting for evac to arrive. Tony never mentioned it.

The first time Tony was scared of him was when he came stumbling in behind Fury after a mission in a baggy, ripped up hoodie and icy stare at the floor. He was quiet, calculative and angry . It was the most terrifying thing he’d ever experience. As soon as Parker walked into the room, all conversation had stopped, the air got too thick, and everyone could tell there was something seriously wrong . It was chilling and daunting, but the scariest part was when he noticed the Avengers(who hadn’t been looking at him, except for Tony) and the tension and ice in the room just vanished into thin air, and the room seemed to become bright again as the kid slapped on the smile that Tony thought was his actual smile.

It seemed so real.

He was bubbly and happy and talkative, but Tony watched him as he didn’t seem to notice that he was talking to himself three hundred miles per hour. It was like an autopilot thing. A thing he did to distract himself, or maybe comfort himself. They all had their quirks and coping mechanisms, so Tony wasn’t going to judge.

So in conclusion, Peter Parker was a child. Case closed. Right?

He knew he couldn’t be more wrong.

He had to be dragged to things (not necessarily screaming but definitely unwilling) that he didn’t wanna deal with. He didn’t like following rules, if not because he thinks he’s right then to piss someone off (whether it be Avengers, government officials, criminals, agents etc.) He was talkative and rambled too much about… anything really (especially about dog breeds).

Sure he was powerful, and cunning, and could slap together a decent plan, but those combined with his childish antics, made for embarrassing and amusingly strange first impressions. Like awkward teenager, but to the max.

He wasn’t even sure why the hell Fury would want to introduce him to the King of Wakanda (it was a bad fucking idea, and this kid was so controversial with strangers, he could start a war. Although he was never rude, he actually was probably the most open minded and accepting guy Tony has ever met. But that wasn’t what he was worried about). Probably because he was going on the next mission with them which was in a week, and his sister Shuri would stay here with Harley (they seemed to have kicked off some sort of science nerd thing together, he loved his kid).

T’challa was already here talking with Steve (probably about Barnes’ return, which was in a few days if he was not mistaken) ,and Shuri was doing the same with Harley (but like on a more excited level), they were just waiting on Fury, who was probably dragging along the kid. Who last time they saw him, was a week ago when he was tired and covered in glitter and the dictionary definition misery.

This time he looked more rested, although still sleepy, but not exhausted. He was in a NASA hoodie and hello kitty pajama pants, it was the first time he’d seen him without the spiderman suit or any variation of a costume/professional gear one could go vigilante-ing in.

He looked too much like a kid to be a person who fought alien robots.

He looked like a freaking teenager , and yeah he always looked like a teenager, but usually the costume and the webs and the tech dampened it’s affect (like he wasn’t really a real kid, just a kid). But the hoodie he was wearing was way too big for him and the sleeves went over his hands, faded letters that he could barely make out as ‘NASA’. The Hello Kitty Pants were soft pink and also two sizes too big, but the kid pulled the drawstring as tight as it could go cause two hot pink strings were dangling dangerously between his legs. And his shoes were literally a dirty torn up pair was grey converse and the soles and other areas were duck taped. He had a ratty black jansport backpack on his back, and one strap was broken, and there was also duck tape holding that together. Over all he looked like a normal teen with a lower class status. (And that’s what he really was, wasn’t he? A kid, from Queens who skateboarded with his friends and went to school. That’s what he should’ve been at least.)

He looked irritated and tired, but not as tired or miserable as last time. The tired like someone just woke him up from his nap kind of tired, and that was severely better than about to collapse from exhaustion and starvation tired. At least this time he was somewhat clean and not tracking glitter everywhere. Although, he still looked like he could use a meal or two.

“You know there’s a literal King in the room?” Clint said addressing the kid, as no one seemed to notice their entrance (besides Tony and definitely Natasha), the rest of the Avengers, including the king and princess and Harley, turned to them and Peter huffed a little, weather it was in defense or defiance he wasn’t quite sure, and crossed his sweater pawed arms (oh my god his looked adorable) across his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to be intimidating, but if he was he failed. Like Catastrophically. He looked like a goddamn puppy.

“ Now I know.” Peter said a little red tinting his cheeks. “I didn’t think you were serious.” he mumbled to himself, probably referring to Fury. T’challa raised a brow at his appearance, but decided not to comment. If he was confused as to why the Avengers didn’t harp on him for the less than appropriate attire, Tony would not be surprised.

“Okay, last time you were in pink it was an accident. Why do I get the feeling this is on purpose?” Tony phrased like a question. His attempt to be subtle about the fact that Peter has often gotten himself into many a fashion disasters. And this, was not one of them. T’challa seemed grateful for it, and smiled at him with a gentle calm smile. That smile should be used for therapy.

“I was sleeping and this asshole,” he gestured wildly to Fury behind him. “Fucking woke me up. Like I blocked you for a reason bastard. Take a hint.” he crossed his arms, Fury didn’t seem phased in the least. DI the kid often block the director of SHIELD? Like what other things does a dropout do? He was 15 so he couldn’t get a job. And all he did was rescue cats and help old ladies all day, with the occasional criminal and odd supervillain… Right?

“You were asleep for three days.” he said in a monotone and Parker shot a mean glare at him with no real heat. Tony could testify to being cranky after taking a nap, but a nap did not last three whole days. That was a fucking coma. The king seemed amused by this and was laughing a quiet deep chuckle, Parker didn’t notice or didn’t really care as he continued.

“Just cause you sleep with one eye open doesn’t mean the rest of us have don’t have to sleep. We all don’t come from the depths of hell where relaxation and warmth doesn’t exist, you know.” Peter replied in what Tony could only describe as a ‘teenager tone’. Nice kid, Preach.

“You didn’t change because…?” Steve asked, probably pissed off at the attire too, but not commenting because last time they did, it was clearly and definitely not his fault (though it did seem like his fault this time, but you never know with Peter Parker, and Tony believes they were fully starting to understand that… after a full year). Peter looked like he was about to drop some mad wisdom. Oh this should be fun.

“I gave up and decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time this week.” Peter nodded seemingly satisfied with that answer. Steve sighed and quietly apologize to a very amused king about their not so resident spiderling, while Tony barked out a laugh.

“Wow, mood.” it was Princess Shuri herself who was smiling mischievously, Peter looked over to the voice and he looked at the other teenager curiously.

“It really is no problem. You are just a child, afterall.” T’challa seemed patronizing, consoling mostly STeve that it was okay, But Peter did not like that voice... at all . Still he slapped on a sickly sweet smile that screamed ‘try me bitch’, but at the same time was so damn innocent.

Shuri rolled her eyes and made her way over to Peter, Harley loosely following her, and examined his shirt. “You like NASA?” her eyes lit up, Peter looked more genuinely bashful now. But there was a unquestionable light that flared in his own. A light that Tony hasn’t ever seen on Peter Parker ever. Huh, interesting.

“Uhh, I-” he didn’t seem to know how to finish, or to begin really. Harley did for him.

“You didn’t mention that last time.” he said not unkindly, pointing at the sweatshirt and Peter looked quickly down then up again. Atta boy kiddo.

“I guess it never c-came up?” Peter said and Fury rolled his eyes and pushed the kids to the side to have their ‘playtime’ while Fury went over to Cap and T’challa to talk to them privately (probably about Barnes). Everyone went back to their own conversations, Tony listened into the kids’ though, sipping his coffee as he did so.

“So are you more of an aerophysics type of guy, or do you like astrophysics?” Shuri asked, trying to maintain conversation with a person that apparently was really shit at making decent conversation, despite how much he talked. Peter blinked at the question.

“I-I work mos-mostly with a-aero-” Peter said quiet in a stutter. Like he didn’t know how to respond to the question, or that he would respond wrong. He probably didn’t know how, considering he dropped out of high school if he wasn’t mistaken. But something about his tone was different. Shy. It was way different then how he talked to the adults. Tony thinks he knows what to say, just not how to say it, which Tony has never known Peter to be capable of.

“Aerophysics is more earthly based, while astro is space stuff.” Harley dumbed down for him. Based on their past conversation he had no choice but to assume Peter did know about science, although he did seem to know history facts and debate topics. Peter face seemed to fall a little, like he knew that but he just didn’t have time to say it.

Poor kid. He was gonna get roasted.

“W-Well yeah, I-I use Aerophysics when- when I go-” Peter was cut off again, Tony was getting irritated for Peter, cause he was obviously piecing something together. Peter on the other hand, seemed to be disappointed rather than mad or annoyed, every time he was cut off. It was as if he was finally being allowed to speak and say his opinion but then the rug would be pulled from under him every time.

“Harley, let him speak!” Shuri said crossing her arms. Harley huffed. Thank you Shuri. Listen to the spider child.

“Well he kinda dropped out of high school, but I don’t think they offer any sort of advanced classes at public school anyways.” Harley said in his defense. Peter didn’t deflate at the comment, rather smile a little. Just a quick quirk of the lips -like he knew something they didn’t. Shuri made and ‘o’ with her mouth and furrowed her brow in confusion.

“Then why does he have a NASA sweatshirt?” Shuri asked and pointed to the sweatshirt. Harley shrugged and she looked to Peter for an answer who just kicked an imaginary rock and shoved his hands into his pocket.

“It was the cheapest thing on the shelf…” he mumbled, Tony almost didn’t hear him. And oh damn , that’s a reality awakening. Shuri seemed to sympathize as she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t even go to elementary school.” she said and Harley snicked, because Shuri was homeschooled, and by that, she meant that she literally taught herself everything. She was a super genius afterall. But Peter didn’t know that. That’s...kind of mean...

“Well, I liked Chemistry…” Peter offered tentatively, sounding like he didn’t want to be a total disappointment, not getting that they were being little shits right now. Something dawned on Tony.

Had Peter ever had friends before? A mutant and enhanced. Probably snarky and also closed off. Knows how to fight and piss people off. He didn’t really seem like the type to have-

Oh shit.

“Chemistry? I figured you liked Gym the most Parker.” Harley snickered and Shuri right along with him. Peter looked confused as he shook his head.

“N-Not really. I kinda sucked at Gym, but I was okay in Chemistry-” Peter looked a little shocked when Harley and Shuri burst out laughing and Peter looked down at himself and look back up confused. Like he didn’t know what he did that was so funny.

“Did you get a what, C+?” Shuri said and Peter took all of a second to figure out what was happening. He blushed and ducked his head, Tony couldn’t see his eyes, but his body position looked absolutely devastated .

“I-um-I d-d-didn’t...I- w-was…-” Why was he stuttering? Come on kid, say something smart. Say something funny. Jump out a window. Do something, say something! Anything! Don’t just stand there.

But he did. He stood there and took it. It was worse than when he was taking Roger’s demeaning lectures or Nat’s harsh reprimands. This caught Peter off guard, and he didn’t know how to do anything but take it. Tony hated that a lot.

“Parker, get your ass over here!”

Thank god, Fury.

OoOoO

He was so stupid.

He’d been bullied before, he e’d been insulted and babied and condoned. He’d been yelled at before. But usually those were all to his face, or mask. If someone had a problem with him, they usually didn’t try to embarass him before or lead him on. And if they did, he always caught on.

Albeit some people used to do that, but recently? Nope. Everyone just yelled at him. There was no one his age to do that with. Not with the parts and people he hung around with now. They were all grown ups. Condescending, jerkass grownups..

It’s just...they were asking questions that he could answer. That he liked answering. That he’d been telling himself about aerodynamics and physics formulas that made him fly above buildings, but only to people who don’t listen or creatures who don’t understand. Things that were only theoretical to everyone else, but he could do them (but couldn’t tell them because he had an identity to keep). Every web that was shot for swing was timed and placed according to the precise calculations he did in his head. Eventually they became a thing he did subconsciously,  but he could still tell people the formulas - and he kinda thought they were cool. That’s why he never got anything less than 100 in physics class.

Because if he got anything less than 100 as Spiderman, he’d die .

He let them lead him on and didn’t even notice. He didn’t have a come back or snarky comment to make at the end. He didn’t have the last word to say or anything, it was like his mind had went blank. What happened? He was doing so well. He never let that happen anymore, unless he wanted it to (and he never wanted it to, but like undercover shit was all about the details).

But then kids that were his age showed up and he started to get nervous. Started to lose his words. He didn’t expect to see them here, he had no time to prepare. These kids were a little older than him, but not by the margian that the Avengers were. They liked science and they talked about it with passion. He could hop on that train any day, and he was going to without any second thoughts.

You’re getting desperate.

He was about to ruin everything .

He should be glad that they didn’t actually expect him to say anything intelligent. He shouldn’t have gotten so depressed though. Because he let them believe he wasn’t book smart, and he knew he was smart. It just hurt sometimes that he couldn’t be himself around people anymore. He should’ve just made a joke or said something Spiderman was expected to say.

Why did he freeze?

He must have gotten too excited. He hasn’t done that in a while. That wasn’t fucking good.

“Suit up.” Fury said and he went straight to the bathroom to do just that, and stop his racing heart and melting brain. Was this really the way to do this? No… he couldn’t think like that. It’s safer for everyone if he just stays away. He was glad he wouldn’t have to see those two in a while.

He felt a pang in his chest. Which was stupid, because that was just some light joking. It wasn’t even that bad. They were just having some fun. They didn’t know Peter hadn’t had anything nice said to him in a while. They didn’t know that people never asked questions to him in a form of not yelling. They didn’t know that people never asked him about his interests outside of Spiderman. They didn’t know he missed MJ and Ned so much that it made his heart want to explode.

They didn’t know.

And it fucking hurt .

See this? This right here , is why he can’t have nice things. Not as long as he wears the suit. Not as long as he’s Peter Parker, or Petya or whoever he was.

And he can’t just give up the suit. Cause Spider-man was his constant now. He had nothing else. It was the thing that will never leave him (it can never leave him), whether he wants it to or not. He’s stuck with it.

...hehe... stuck .

There you go Parker.

“You good kid?” Tony asked as he was getting on the plane. What was his game? Peter narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Defenses rebuilt and now stronger than they were when he first walked in.

“I’m great .” That came out wrong. Peter ducked his head a bit, and moved forward faster, ignoring how Stark’s gaze lingered on his back a bit. He didn’t care. He shouldn’t care.

“Wheels up in 5.” Romanov said as she passed by him. So she saw his fallout too, because she didn’t sound that angry with him. Well they could suck it, cause he didn’t need sympathy...or friends. He gave that up knowing what it meant. He was losing the only people he had in life. The only people who would be willing to deal with his BS and everything that came with it. He wouldn’t let them, cause they were his friends .

Weird how that worked.

He went to sit on the ground in front of the third seat, under the window. It was unspoken, but his spot, no one touched it. He was there for a good 10 minutes after they took off before Stark came and sat in the plush aisle seat, leaning back casually as if he owned it (and he did, it’s just...this was you know, Peter’s place). He was gearing up on the floor, his legs in a cross, and only spared him a glance before looking back down intently relocking his webshooters, like he had done something wrong, unable to look him in the eye.

What was wrong with him? Did this really bother him that much? He’s been through so much worse. He’s Spiderman! He could fight 15 guys at once, and punch robots out of the sky. Why was this bothering him?

They should have known!

Focus on the mission!

He wanted the voices to shut up. They weren’t helping. He closed his eyes for a second before Stark spoke, affectingly silencing them.

“Teenagers can be mean.” he said and it made Peter uncomfortable. He shifted oddly, and still didn’t look up, but did stop fiddling with his web shooters. Stark continued. “You have friends?” he asked. He was silent until Stark believed he wouldn’t answer and moved to leave.

He should have let him leave.

“I used to.” he said instead. Stark took it as an invitation to stay, it probably was.He shifted into a more comfortable position in the seat.

“Where are they now?” he seemed a little hesitant to ask. Peter knew why. He never talked about his own personal life. That’s probably because there wasn’t much of a personal life to talk about. At least not anymore.

“They aren’t dead...but… they- I left them.”Peter stuttered out. He should really shut up. This wasn’t something he wanted anybody, especially Tony Stark (a man who can probably look up his name and instantly find out his friends intern for him and then he’d ruin this streak of silence and put them in danger and-)

“Why?” Peter shifted again. He couldn’t find a good position. His skin was too hot, he needed a cold new surface, but they just kept getting warmed up by his body heat.

“They aren’t like me...they don’t know about,” he gestured upward, and Stark knew he was referring to his powers and Spiderman. “This job...I don’t have the resources to keep them safe...not like you do…”

“Why don’t you just ask SHIELD, they seem to back you no matter what  you do.” Tony said crossing his arms and leaning back into a casual position. Peter knew that was a jab at his obvious irritation to getting away with seemingly everything. Peter shook his head.

“even if I did, there are some bad guys that don’t want money…” Tony seemed to understand that immediately, as there was a respectful silence for awhile. Peter thought it was the end of the conversation, but then Stark said something else.

“You seemed pretty into that conversation though. You like science?” Peter couldn’t bring himself to speak, there was a lump in his throat so he just nodded. “Why didn’t you just speak up?”

“I...I guess I forgot what it felt like… it reminded me of my talks with my... friends, I guess.” Peter shrugged. He couldn’t read Tony’s look, so he went on. “I shouldn’t have let myself- let it get that far.” Peter corrected, he could feel Stark’s gaze on him. Pitying. He hated it.

“Peter-”

“Stop.” Tony was shocked still at his tone. “Stop prying. And stop giving me that look. I don’t need it, and frankly I-” Peter took a breath, and calmed himself down, because now he was probably scaring Tony and if he screamed he knew he would sound childish. “I would appreciate you letting this go Mr.Stark. My interests and personal connections have nothing to do with what we are doing. I am not your teammate, nor an Avenger, so stay. out. of. It.” he warned.

He got up and took his bag with him to move to the other isle. This one wasn’t safe anymore.

Tony just looked at him as he passed the second aisle.

OoOoO

8 years earlier…

He didn’t like going home.

It had been 5 months since Peter had first came out of Special forces with Wade and was officially (by Wade’s terms)on reverse summer vacation- though he hadn’t understood what he meant at the time. Wade has dropped him off at the airport in Beijing and he got off at the airport in New York City to be found by  a mild mannered lady named Margaret who took him in a silver car to a dingy apartment building in a place called Queens and giving him to May and Ben Parker .

He didn’t know what to think about it at first. It was very different from all the other places he’s lived and people whom he lived with. The first thing that had gone through his head was that the apartment smelt really bad. The second thing was that Ben Parker smelt almost as bad as the apartment, if not worse. And the third was that May Parker was not all...there. Like she had been drugged. Peter could sure as hell smell drugs and alcohol from the surrounding apartments.

Nonetheless, Margaret wrinkled her nose and told them his name and relevant information as fast as she could before getting out of there and left as soon as she could. Ben waved him off to go somewhere as May stumbled over to him and was about to fall, until she used him as support. Now that he could see her closer she only looked partially sedated. There but not really aware.

He wondered what kind of place this would be like. What kind of training he’d get here. What kind of missions Ben and May would make him go on. This wasn’t really meeting the standards of all the other places, and far more unprofessional to be anything official. Why would Cotnet send him here?

May had taken him to his room which was small and had a bed and desk and closet and the walls were painted forest green instead of grey, and there were cloths that weren’t black in the closet and they didn’t seem to have any armor. Was he going undercover? She had said that he started school in a week and to take anything that was in the kitchen if he was hungry before stumbling out to do whatever. Peter shut the door for her and explored the room. There were books on the desk and a schedule that said Queens Elementary School Course list- Peter Parker. He read the relevant documents then he opened his shitty phone and typed in what an elementary school was.

That had been their first interaction. Peter kind of avoided them after that. He wasn’t really sure what they were meant to do(because they didn’t ask him to train and they didn’t give him assignments. School did But you didn’t have to kill anybody in school, in fact it was a rule that you weren’t allowed to hurt people), but after observing a few months of other kids and the interactions with their families, he finally understood what they were supposed to do. And he could help but feel a little sad that they didn’t do their job properly. That they didn’t take care of him or watch out for him. Or harp on him about his grades even if they were really good anyway(praise? Maybe a little praise wouldn’t hurt).

He found himself wanting Wade to be here, because Wade had taken care of him really well even if he was a bit odd (he took better care of him than anyone else he could remember). But he wouldn’t see Wade until the summer again and he didn’t think Wade really knew how to deal with this School nonsense either. But it was okay, Peter kinda liked school (the teachers didn’t yell at him when he asked questions and he learned things he already knew but it was still nice because they let him read a lot of books too).

After 3 months with May and Ben Parker is when the insults started. From Ben anyway. When May was heavily sedated or out doing work (because May was kinda nice and sometimes brought back extra fries from the diner she worked at, just for Peter) and only Ben was home.

It had started when he was getting some dinner, because no one cooked for him he had learned(but all he figured out with the little money that wasn’t spent on drugs was only able to afford take out and cup noodles). Ben was in the kitchen getting a beer from the fridge and Peter was set on ignoring him, because he was never very nice when he talked to Peter. He took out a cup of Ramen because that was all their paycheck could afford right now. Ben has commented on the sodium- or grumbled really- and Peter perked up slightly because that was kind of a sciencey thing to say so he started to prattle off about the element sodium but then Ben wrinkled his nose and snapped at him to stop being so annoying, he was just telling Peter that he looked like he was getting really big. Peter had looked down at himself and blushed.

He had been putting on more weight with more consistent, bigger meals, and he hadn’t been really training to burn calories as much because of school(which really the only class that burned calories was PE and that wasn’t even hard). So Peter put the cup away and didn’t eat that night- losing his appetite for the next three days in fact(before MJ practically shove a handful of fries in his mouth and told him he looked like more of a depressed twig than usual). He really had to watch what he ate if Ben even noticed that he was gaining weight(and if Ben had noticed anything at all it must be pretty apparent. How had he not noticed though?), it would make getting missions done harder if he wasn’t fit. And Ben never noticed him, so it must have been a problem... Right?

It took Peter 2 years to realize that was the stupidest thing he’d ever done because of Ben. And he had done a lot of stupid things because of Ben, but not eating and developing a kind of disability for a bit because of it (he got out of that though, especially when Ned had subtly voiced his concern and MJ not so subtly told him he was being an idiot. But by that time, he was more used to not eating than not, but he did get better) was the stupidest thing he had done for the man (although food bills were never a problem with him).

He would regret a lot of things he had done.

OoOoO

Present…

Spidey is a good smasher.

He is small, so when Hulk first saw him he didn’t think he would be a good smasher, but Spidey was strong in his puny body-to Hulks absolute delight. When he first met Hulk, he was wearing red and the bad guys were grey, so he realized that Spidey was a friend. But if he was wearing grey like he did that one time, Hulk would’ve smashed him (but he didn’t because he already knew Spidey was a friend). Spidey has started to fight with them more, and every time Spidey wasn’t there, Hulk got sad.

Nobody liked fighting with Hulk, except for Spidey. They all stayed away because when he smashes, sometimes things go boom, and he likes his friends when they make things go boom, but he doesn’t like it when they go boom too. Their smashing was more, or-der-ly- at least that is the term Shield used. He also said that Hulk smashing was too dangerous for others to be around except for the bad guys. Because it was good when the bad guys were hurt but not other things.

But Spidey didn’t need to worry about things going boom. He always moved away before they did, and Hulk didn’t know how he did it, but it made him stay near Hulk during battle. Spidey just knew when things were going to go boom before they went boom. Hulk only understood that much, but nobody else did because they all yelled at him when he ‘got too close’ to something dangerous.

Spidey had a metal thingy in his ear that let him hear the Avengers even though he couldn’t see them. Everyone had one. Except for Hulk. Hulk would accidentally smash the metal thingy if he had one. It still made him sad that he couldn’t talk to anyone like they did to each other. But sometimes Spidey would press a button and couldn’t hear them anymore. He would then make a relieved noise and start talking to Hulk instead. Which made Hulk happy, and Spidey seemed to like to talk to Hulk more than the others (because, even if Hulk likes his friends, they always yelled at Spidey, even if Spidey was Hulks friend too)

Hulk didn’t understand why he did that, but he liked having Spidey talk- because Hulk didn’t talk a lot. And Spidey talked a lot. He was funny and made fun of the bad guys and not Hulk.

They had a lot of fun together. They’d play smashing games together and it was fun. He liked it when Spidey laughed and was happy, because Hulk was making Spidey happy. He never made anyone happy or laugh or smile (even if Spidey didn’t have a mouth to smile with).

Hulk liked Spidey, because Spidey wasn’t afraid of him.

But sometimes, and Hulk always noticed, Spidey wouldn’t talk. He’d turn off his metal thingy before the smashing even started. He stayed closer to Hulk, and they would do serious smashing. That was smashing with no games or fun or talking- but Hulk could tell a Spidey wasn’t talking because of not Hulk reasons. Hulk didn’t like when Spidey went quiet. It meant that he was sad.

When Spidey was quiet, it meant that he had a lot to say. But he didn’t know how to say it, he didn’t read minds like the Red Girl did. But Hulk didn’t know how to make Spidey better and not sad anymore, So Hulk helped Spidey smash and didn’t say anything. Support Smashing, which made Spidey a little happier.

Today though, Spidey was really sad. It was the kind of sad that Hulk felt before he met him or when Spidey wasn’t on a mission with him. Hulk really didn’t like this kind of sad. It was the lonely sad.

“Why Spidey sad?” he asked, because he shouldn’t feel lonely, he had Hulk. And Hulk was his friend and he thought Spidey knew that. Spidey looked up at him confused. Spidey always listened to Hulk because Hulk never spoke much. But even if Hulk did talk a lot like Spidey, he knew Spidey would listen to him - he was really good at hearing things too.

“Oh, it’s nothing big green. Ready to smash?” What kind of question was that? Hulk was always ready to smash, but Spidey was sad now . Even if Spidey pretended not to be sad. Spidey was walking away and Hulk picked him up by his collar. Like the little kittens Spidey handed him once and Hulk was absolutely terrified to smash them because they were so tiny.

“Spidey sad now. ” Hulk insisted and Spidey just went floppy in his hand. He really was scrawny and puny. He weighed nothing to Hulk. Spidey need to eat more.

“I just...I dunno.” Spidey moved his shoulder up once and Hulk knew why Spidey was sad. Spidey was smart, so Spidey should know why he was sad too.

“Spidey don’t need to be sad, because Hulk is Spidey friend.” Hulk said, maybe he didn’t need to read minds like red girl, Spidey knew that but when Spidey didn’t answer for a while, Hulk thought he mind have been wrong. But then Spidey looked at him, and Hulk cannot see Spidey’s mouth(because he doesn’t have one), but he knows he made him happy. Good, Spidey deserve to be happy.

“Thanks, big green.” he said in a sin-cere way. “Now ready to smash?” Hulk smiled at him with his smashing grin.

This is why Hulk likes Spidey.

OoOoO

Harley was a good kid.

Tiny had known him since he was 11 and he had always been the one to be picked on, never the one to bully (even if he was a little shit sometimes, but that was just as endearing as it was irritating). Harley was a smart and observant kid, nearly spending two years in that she’d alone and going to school on his own. Making some cash to scrounge up for food, because she’d doesn’t have rent on it. That was before Tony had taken him in when he was 14 because his mom had inexplicably left him(even if she wasn’t there much from the beginning). Harley was a good smart kid, who helped Tony in his time of need by taking the hero in and Tony was returning the favor.

Parker was independent and smart enough to be consider not stupid (even if he supposedly dropped out of school for his vigilante thing). Parker could fend for himself and deal with his problems his own way. Emotional or otherwise, that’s the way it’s always been since Tony had first met him. As far as Tony knew, Parker never asked for help and didn’t really call in favors- if he had any. He didn’t make deals with the exception of SHIELD (which wasn’t a deal more like an exchange of favors and if that was so then Parker had a whole lot of leeway with Fury. Maybe that’s why he got everything he wants) nor did he make promises. Parker always dealt with things alone, which was another reason that Tony felt so wrong in stepping in this.

If he had to choose between Harley and Parker it would be Harley in an instant. No questions asked, he was his kid. He dealt with his endearing bullshit in a daily basis. Also Parker was nothing but a pain in his ass every since he first met the kid. Always disobeying and acting out. Parker had this coming to him for a while. It should be a good thing if he was knocked down a peg or two...theoretically at least.

So this conversation he was about to have felt wrong on all of Tony’s beliefs and on many other levels. Like he was betraying Harley by accusing him (more like pointing out) of bullying Parker. Tony felt a sinking feeling as he walked from the briefing room to Harley’s current location. Time seemed to not be able to go any slower as impending something came closer and closer. Anticipation? Dread? He wasn’t sure.

Harley was in the lab with Shuri, working on something in a holo-screen. They were probably building more prototypes for Avengers gear. Tony had long since allowed Harley to help (especially when Harley threatened to build an Iron Man suit and pull a Peter Parker to become Iron Lad or something). That’s when Tony stepped in (after almost having a heart attack) to say that he could help the Avengers by building some shit ( not a personal suit). Needless to say, Harley had jumped in that like a flea on a dog (was that how the expression went?). Shuri did the same thing for most of Wakandan and Black Panther’s tech, so when they were together they mostly bounced ideas and built things in the nearest labs while sharing some sort of inside jokes call vines (although Tony thinks it’s a Gen Z thing, considering he has heard Parker quote exact same phrases during a fight or briefing. Ugh, trends). That’s what they were doing when Tony and T’challa came in.

“Hey how was it?” Harley asked not looking up from the circuit board he was soldering. Shuri wasn’t even bothered to turn around from her analysis trials. They didn’t see T'challa and Tony glance at each other uncertainty flashing across the King’s features(he was probably in the same predicament he was in with Shuri. Kids right?).

“Shuri could you come with me for a moment.” T'challa wasn’t asking, showing he has had more experience in dealing with these sorts of things- lucky bastard. Tony was way more out of his element. Shuri groaned as she closed the stats she was toying with and dragged herself out of the room to latter behind the King, not even waving goodbye because she was probably going to be back within 30 minutes.

Harley looked up at Tony, and noticed there was something off about his posture. Like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. Harley raised a brow, because this was a bit unusual to just come in and stop Shuri and him from working on respective projects. So something must have happened.

“What’s up?” Harley asked cocking his head and furrowing his brow confused. Tony breathes in, steadying himself for the conversation to start, not having much of a Segway into the topic because it was so obscure.

“I’m sure you didn’t even mean to do it. Well you meant to do it, just probably not have that kind of reaction...” Tony mumbled more to himself than to him “you’re a good kid.” Like he was firm in that belief. Harley furrowed his brows further, confused and now a bit worried.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen on the mission?” Harley asked tilting his head. Things often went wrong on missions, causing Tony to have various reactions to them. Some of those reactions were self destructive and Harley or Pepper or Rhody or Bruce has to drag him out of it. Some of the reactions had him building non stop. Some of the reactions had made him clingy and needy -as Pepper put it. This was the first time he was trying this new method though.

“No well... yes something went wrong, but more like before the mission...” Tony said and looked to the side for a second, before looking Harley in the eyes again as he continued. “It wasn’t really ... well it was more weird than anything? Off putting would be the better word. Words.”

“Can you stop dancing around it, what’s wrong?” Harley said a bit annoyed at Tony’s constant stuttering. If he had something to say, he should just say it. He never usually tried to find the right words to put into sentences, just always winged it. Especially with Harley, he didn’t have to hold back. So it was a bit irritating that he was doing so now. Harley crossed his hands over his chest, waiting for Tony to say what he needed to.

“Remember when you and Shuri had that little heart to heart with Parker?” Tony asked a bit rushed and Harley looked unimpressed. He nodded anyway in a Yeah-What-about-it kind of way.

“Yeah. You heard that?” Harley tilted his head. Not ashamed but more like confused and inquisitive. As if he didn’t understand why Tony was bringing up a seemingly random event. Which made it even more awkward for what Tony was going to point out - not accuse, Harley didn’t know he did anything wrong.

“Yeah...” Tony said a bit warily, making Harley’s face slightly contort In concern and still confusion. “it was a little harsh. Don’t you think?” Tiny said cutting straight through the chase. Harley blinked and stared for a moment, then scoffed amusedly.

“I mean yeah, but he puts up with way more insulting things everyday. Plus we didn’t even mean it.” Harley said furrowing his brow, like this was a stupid thing to talk about (it kind of was now that Tony was thinking about the conversation and not Parker’s reaction on the plane). “It was just some fun. And if you had a problem you could’ve told us then, we would’ve stopped. He could’ve told us too, I mean he isn’t a little kid. If he wants something, he should ask.”And that, Tony decided, was a good point. Parker is independent, he doesn’t need anyone holding his hand. Especially in this business.

“He didn’t know that.” Tony grumbled, in attempt to defend himself and his reasoning of talking to Harley. Sometimes when Harley made a really good point like that, Tony wondered who was the adult and who was the unreasonable teenager. But Tony was right about this one (even if it was hard and weird to explain). “I mean he knew, but I think it still like affected him.” Tony clarifies and Harley’s mouth made an ‘o’ in understanding.

“Did we hurt his feelings?” Harley asked, more amused than anything. And yeah, Tony got that it was amusing thought but...actually seeing it? Up close? It was a whole other ballpark.
it was honestly scary . Parker showing emotions somehow made him seem younger and like he actually had a soul that didn’t just thrive on pissing people off but approval and acceptance of his peers. Tony might not be a mutant, but he knows that it was a big deal for one to be accepted by their colleagues because of how rarely it occurred.

“I think you did. And as entertaining as it sounds, I witnessed Spidey have like genuine emotions ...” Tony said a bit dramatically, but it really was a sight to see, especially from the seemingly rebellious and snarky teenager that didn’t care about what people thought of him. “and it was fucking scary. Like he actually felt something. Never wanna see that shit again kid.” Tony warned and Harley looked like he didn’t know what to think.

“Was it that bad?” Harley asked a little more quietly, Tony seemed scared and that made Harley in turn feel a bit frightened as well.

“I dunno, yeah. It caught me by surprise is all. It just seemed a little brutal, but literally to anyone else it wouldn’t be but that kid just-...” tony stopped to think and rephrase his answer so he didn’t further Parker’s embarrassment more. “He just needs someone in his corner. You know not trying to use him or fight with him. You guys seemed like the first people to act more like a friend than anything in a while to him, and it was just a joke. That seems a little messed up, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t-“ Harley paled. Tony held up his hand. He wouldn’t let his kid feel bad over this because Harley had literally no way of knowing. He just had to be more careful next time.

“You didn’t know. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not gonna punish you for that. But like just for next time maybe.” Tony said kindly and smiled at him. Harley still looked distraught, as if that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. He wanted to make this right and Tony couldn’t be more proud of him for it. He is a good kid. “And apologize, or don’t. He seems like the type to not bring up the past.” he advised helpfully. Harley looked a little grateful for it but mostly wary and guilty.

“If there will be a next time...” Harley mumbled, still feeling mostly awful. “I didn’t mean to...” he looked to the side on the floor. Tony stood up and came over to him to put a hand on his shoulder.

“And Spideys no dumbass. He’s smart, like ridiculously smart. Just not like the rest of us.” Tony said as he pulled his kid in to give him a hug. “He uses Aerophysics more but I think he prefers astrophysics.” Harley laughed at that and it made Tony smile more.

“Really?” He asked, a bit incredulous.

“No, but he just seems like the kind of guy to like Astro.” Tony smiled down at his kid, who laughed again.

“Maybe I’ll try and teach him something then.” God he loved his kid. He smiled down at him as Harley pulled a bit away to look up at the Mechanic.

“I think he’d like that.”

OoOoO

The kid was drinking fucking HI-C

When the Avengers walked into the conference room, they expected Fury there for a mission. Usually it was a toss up whether the kid would come or not, but it looked like he was coming this time. Sometimes the kid would come on missions that didn’t require the whole team, that was not as likely to happen though but it still wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. The thing that was different is that Fury wasn’t in the room for briefing. It was rare for the kid to be anywhere that wasn’t a mission without Fury -at least as far as the Avenger’s know, he does go off on his own a lot actually.

This mission only required Steve, Sam and Clint. Usually if they had the mission info and no briefing it wasn’t a big deal and the kid never ever went on those missions. He only went on the really important serious missions as a sort of backup. So what was he doing here?

They could only assume that it included the kid too. He was sitting on the table, juice box in his mouth (the label read ‘poppin’ lemonade’ and although it was the superior flavor it also had the highest calorie count. Clint stores that information away just in case.) and he looked very determined to finish it -not even fiddling with his beat up outdated phone while he was doing so. He was in a hoodie and his Spiderman suit acted as pants and he was wearing his beat up converse. Equally beat up backpack next to him on the table. He didn’t seem to pay them any kind as they walked in.

Clint walked over and went to knock it up with his hand before the kid flipped backward to avoid it. Straw never leaving his mouth, but the corner of his lips quirked upwards. It was infuriating how he did that. Sam snorted at the kids antics and snack.

“Want some cookies with that?” He quipped and the kids eyes lit up as he looked at Sam. His small frame slightly bounced in excitement.

“You got some? I’m starving!” He said  with shining eyes. Finally releasing the straw from his lips. Sam looked affronted and Clint laughed at his friends failed roast.

“What? No! I was making fun of you!” Sam said. The kid pouted, seemingly disappointed in the fact that he didn’t get the cookie that was offered.

“At the expense of getting my hopes up? And when I’m hungry? Wow that just cruel man.” He said shaking his head in disapproval. Sam squawked in response as Cap took up the mantle of lecturing the child- as he so often did.

“If you were hungry then you should’ve eaten a proper meal.” Steve said in a chastising tone that he mostly talked to the kid with. It was rare for him to talk in any other voice else with Parker.

“Like a nice warm meal that you spend an hour to cook and sit down at a dinner table?” Peter droned on with a unimpressed look. It took Clint a second to process the question and another second to see that Peter had this look behind his eyes, like a longing look. It was covered and noticeable if you weren’t looking for it. Cap looked a little affronted for a second, probably at the strange question.

“Well yeah, ideally.” He said in a confused manner. Peter gave him a smile that shouldn’t be on his young face, nor should it have directed to someone older than him. Like the smile parents give their kids when they say some cute but totally unrealistic . Like unicorns (even though Thor insisted Pegasi did exist) and Santa Claus Or the Tooth Fairy. Things that would never happen...

“I’ll remember that next time.” He said back, in a more calm tone. He was trying to be gentle now, treading lightly over this topic. He didn’t just want to hide him from whatever he was implying (which Clint for the life of him, couldn’t figure it out). The kid was trying to shelter him from something. He didn’t want to break some sort of unspoken belief.

“Okay, where’s Fury?” Clint asked, getting a headache from trying to figure it out. He wasn’t sure he even wanted  to figure it out. He wanted to avoid the kids eye contact and ignore the feeling that he was a kid by looking around.

“Oh, he had to leave but told me to debrief you on your mission.” Peter said as if he was just remembering. He put down the box and picked up a sleek tablet with both hands (which made him look more like a little kid than a teenager) and stood up on the table to jump down in front of Cap. Clint raises an eyebrow.

“Your not coming?” He asked with his own raised eyebrow as the spider kid tapped away at something to pull up the mission, he shook his head.

“Oh, no. He gave me something else to do. He just asked me to tell you your mission before I leave.” Peter said and must have found what he was looking for because he made a delighted noise. “Your gonna raid a HYDRA base! It’s in Philly on the port side. The exact coordinates are in the Quinjet.” He informed excitedly in a fast pace before anyone could interject.

“Is that all?” Steve asked professionally, steeling himself and standing straighter. Peter didn’t mimic him as he double backed to the table for his juice box. Peter sipped his juice box as he shook his head and handed Steve the tablet with his other hand.

“Well, that’s what your files gonna say at least. Really what Fury wants you to do is take it out, but off the books you gotta get some information on the servers.” Peter said with a casual tone.Clint’s gotta say, it was nice to know what the real mission was. No sugar coating it with big words that justified stealing. It was unprofessional but refreshing.

“What’s the information?” Sam asked as Peter poked his straw around not looking very interested. Clint noticed the action was the kind his kids did when they were angling for juice that was stuck in the corners. It made his lips quirk up a little.

“Some dirt about SHIELD that they have. It’s always that, but they didn’t send regular agents cause this is dirt on the Avengers.” Peter said and looked up at them confused. Steve looked a little alarmed, as he should be because that was alarming.  “They don’t tell you what info your stealing?”

Cap grumbled that they weren’t stealing and Sam said “this would be the first time SHIELD had told us anything.” peter scoffed at that.

“How did they get stuff on the Avengers?” Clint asked. Peter cocked his head. Now a look of pure confusion totally taking over everything.

“HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD.” He said and that made them all take a double take at the kid. “I mean it was before I came, that was partially the reason I’m here actually, not that they’d tell me that.” He grumbled the last part and looked back up at Steve “They didn’t tell you? I figured being Avengers you’d know.” Peter shrugged. They all just stared at him with slightly opened surprised mouths.

“How do you know?” Steve demanded and Peter sipped his juice box unbothered by the tone and shrugged.

“If Fury doesn’t want me to know something I’ll find out. It’s my thing. He stopped trying eventually and accepted his fate.” Peter said and then had a thinking look on his face. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that, but in my opinion I don’t do anything unless I know why I’m doing it. So if imma gonna brief you I’ll give you the real mission and not some half assed submission. Unless you want one, but I don’t got one for you.” He shrugged and continued on his juice box (which how was he not done with it yet?). “Any other questions?” He said with the straw in his teeth. They didn’t answer and he walked out of the window.

That kid was fucking terrifying.

OoOoO

Parker was a pain in the ass.

Not to Harley Keener in any direct way though. He was a pin in the ass to the Avengers therefore being constantly whines and complained about in the tower and he had to hear the complaints and ails that the kid (even though they were probably the same age) gave the Avengers.

Irritating, disrespectful, annoying, arrogant, brat, and other nasty things were thrown around. Even before meeting him, Harley thought he’d be a arrogant spoiled brat that thought he was better than everyone. Kinda like Flash. He thought that Parker would brag about his superheroing and all that shit that he did. Showing off his powers.

The Avengers might have mislead him a little. Because when he actually did meet Peter Parker, he was nothing like Harley could ever imagine.

He had this almost shy vibe to him. He didn’t talk much, but that wasnt because he thought he was better than anybody. It was because he was tired . And hungry, probably if his pressing of his stomach against the counter was anything to go by (Natasha had taught him to look for the little things). He could barely keep his head up, and Harley was confused as to how this kid could make the Avengers so aggravated.

Then he made the weirdest most accusing controversial set up Harley had ever heard. And when Harley got mad Parker handled it like a champ. Debated and reasoned not unlike MJ does when she brings up controversial topic. God forbid they ever meet.

Peter might be a superhero, but he doesn’t seem to think so either, no matter how people label him. He just doesn’t care about labels or people’s opinions of him in general. He didn’t seem very self conscious, so Harley figures he can take a light bashing.

It threw him for a loop when he found out that Peter could  in fact get offended. And Harley was well aware how many ways Spiderman could make his life hell. Unpredictable  Superhero from the Ghetto was not something Harley wanted to mess with.

He weirdly also felt bad . Parker could take a million people’s insults with no hindrance, so whatever he said to make Parker feel bad must have been really really terrible. Apparently though it wasn’t something he said more than did.

“Hey!”

Parker snapped his head up from the paper he was holding. He was currently stationed against the wall outside the conference room where the team was going over a few more mission things; apparently Parker was kicked out or uninterested or something because he didn’t seem to be doing anything important- but he shouldn’t assume that, because again unpredictable superhero from the ghetto. His backpack was next to him and he had put on an oversized hoodie, the NASA one. Harley looked to the space next to him and Parker slowly moved his bag, complying for the unasked request to sit down. He never broke his wide eyed confused eye contact. There was something innocently curious, but cautious about the look. It made him look years younger than he was (Tony says that happens sometimes).

Harley slid into the spot easily and looked at the paper, not trying to read it but draw attention to it. He knew better than to read something a superhero (or someone of that status) was holding. It could be dangerous or classified and get him in trouble. He couldn’t defend himself like the Avengers could. Hell, he couldn’t defend himself like Peter could, and they were the same age. Albeit, he Probably trained, but Harley doesn’t know by who. He was also a ...mutant? Enhanced? Huh, he didn’t know what Peter was. Either way he was all human , Which made him dangerous. Which means that he knew how to protect himself, even if he wasn’t formally trained. Harley had read somewhere that mutants have animalistic survival instincts that kicks in when they feel threatened, although he wasn’t sure that was entirely true for all mutants.

“Is that classified?” He asked looking at Peter quickly look down at it and snapping back to his face. He shook his head, not entirely looking him in the eye.

“So-sort of?” Peter stuttered looking down at the paper but not hiding it. He was nervous and weary. “It’s a solo op.” That got Harley’s attention. Solo op? He thought Spider-Man was just an asset for some Avengers missions. When he wasn’t doing that he was considered doing vigilante work (that no one bothered to stop anymore). If he was getting his own solo mission, then he must be an agent of SHIELD; which was news because Harley thought he was just a Vigilante.

“You’re an agent?” Harley asked, sounding surprised. Peter shook his head frantically and huffed a laugh.

“As if. I don’t even qualify for level 0. Just gives me something to do. Plus Fury needs to keep an eye on me, and I really don’t mind as long as he doesn’t out me.” Peter said casually, but Harley could detect a hint of cautiousness. Parker was good at covering it up, but he was watching his words and if Harley didn’t live with the Avengers including two super spies and an ex Assassin he wouldn’t have picked it up. There was more to the story. Harley didn’t press though, he was here to apologize not interrogate (although Parker would probably get more information off of the interrogation skills alone. Natasha said that people do that sometimes and it was a tactic she often used when being interrogated).

“What’s the mission?” Harley asked and Peter paused as if considering answering him honestly. Harley was sure that Peter could be lying and he wouldn’t notice it unless he wanted Harley to. Natasha did that sometimes to teach him how to figure out if people are lying.

“Enhanced profiling, just gotta get some basic info on this one guy in Queens. It’s boring as fuck, but like I got nothing better to do.” Peter said with a shrug. He was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. Harley wasn’t really sure, but he knew he wasn't telling him something. No way Spiderman would do something he thought was boring, that just wasn’t his thing. He heard Fury complain on multiple occasions that Spidey turned him down because he had something better to do or just didn’t want to do it.

He didn’t exactly know how Peter and Fury’s relationship worked, but he did know if one of the Avengers did half the shit Parker pulled, they’d be in deep fucking trouble. How did Spidey get Fury to let him get away with so much shit? It kind of pissed him off, because Tony would come back to the lab bone tired and then get called on a mission not even five minutes later sometimes. He couldn’t take a break, what made Spiderman so special that he can duck out any time he wanted? Maybe because he was a kid but that didn’t really seem significant when the world was in danger.

“So who assigned the mission to you?” Harley asked conversationally. He was sure Parker knew what he was doing, and either didn’t care or played along.

“Fury, but it’s not for him.” Peter informed as he flicked through the page again, but not because he was reading it. He just seemed restless.

“Who’s it for?” Harley asked and Peter gave him a snarky grin. The grin that he was so often acclimated with. The grin that fooled him into thinking Parker wasn’t insecure. In light of the truth, it looked more like a defense mechanism than a personality quirk to Harley now.

“That’s what I can’t tell you.” He said coyly, not very apologetically. He knew Harley understood that he couldn’t know for his own safety (and if he was being honest he was glad Parker didn’t hate him enough to put him into danger). Then his demeanor changed. It was sudden and was like whiplash, caught Harley a little off guard. “Why are you so interested in it?” Harley sighed at Peters curious tone with a noticeable hint of suspicion, then he looked at the paper and it  then had a tint of sadness mixed in it - which really caught Harley off guard. “Did Mr.Stark put you up to this?” He asked there was a beat of silence when Harley opened his mouth to answer Peter did for him. “He asked you to apologize, didn’t he.” It wasn’t a question. (See? This is what Harley meant when he said Parker would be getting more information than he was dishing. How was that even remotely fair? he was like at least a few months younger than Keener.)Harley didn’t know what to say, so he said:

“Yeah.” It was honest and the truth. Peter couldn’t analyze it for lies, but he found something anyway. How did he do that?

“You feel that bad about it? It was just some fun. Plus I get a lot worse daily.” He still didn’t look up.(that’s exactly his logic. So dish Parker, why did you have a mini panic attack in front of iron man. He’s all ears.) “But I get it. I could tell Mr.Stark was really freaked out when he talked to me. If I’m being honest, I was kinda freaked out too. I don’t like when things get to me. It’s stupid and annoying.” He said like it was a problem to have emotions. Like it wasn’t okay to be sad, at least around other people. Has he never sought out comfort before? That was kind of...depressing.

“Did it get to you? Make you, ya know, feel...something?” Harley wasn’t sure what to say. What would it make Peter feel. He’d be pretty pissed and sad, especially if he didn’t have friends and then that got thrown in his face. How do you say sorry to that? Cause no matter how much he apologizes, it won’t actually fix anything. he was luck that he did have friends, and sometimes he took that fact for granted. He had amazing, smart friends and a supportive kickass family. What did Peter have? No friends and a freak accident that made him a outsider from everyone else. Maybe that’s what made him special. Cause he could not get angry when people dumped their shit on him and took for granted the things he didn’t and probably will never have. Like a normal life, with normal problems. Harley didn’t know much about enhanced people, but he knew that when you get enhanced so do your problems. At least, that was the simplest way to put it.

“I guess it was just unexpected.” Peter said looking at the wall now, with dullness in his tone. “I guess it caught everyone off guard, huh?” He turned back to Harley with a smile, it looked real but it was fake. It was hiding just how sad and messed up this situation really was. But Harley couldn’t help but notice that Peter wasn’t asking for friendship and he’d already given forgiveness without much of a second thought. Did he even want friends? This kind of stuff seemed easier when you had them.

“I’m still sorry.” Harley admitted. Peter waves generally, indicating it doesn’t matter anymore and is in the past. But this did matter, no matter how Harley thought about it. This was a fucking problem.

“No harm, no foul.” Peter said easily. But was that really true? Was he just hiding the harm Harley had caused him, because he defiantly cared more than he showed. “We didn’t really have a good first impression, so third time's a charm I guess.” He sighed and turned over to Harley and stuck out his hand. Now Harley didn’t know what he was doing now, completely lost. “I’m Peter Parker.” He said with an easy, welcoming smile. Harley took his hand awkwardly and shook it.

“Harley Keener.” Peter laughed. Harley didn’t see what was particularly funny but found himself laughing too. “God, this is so corny.” He couldn’t help but point out between fits of giggles.

“I’m not saying that third time was particularly perfect. But it’s better than the first time.” Peter said smile in his voice. It was friendly and warm and Harley thinks this is the first time he’d actually ever seen Peter smile .

“Yeah, definitely.” Harley said happily. He wasn’t completely sure what just happened, but he thinks he just made friends with Spiderman. Or maybe he just made friends with Peter Parker. Harley couldn’t find himself to think of this friendship with Spiderman more than his less infamous alter ego. He kinda liked the thought of being friends with Parker. Behind all that snark was actually a pretty chill dude. Who would have guessed?

“So...” Peter said, looking to the side after the laughter died down and a comfortable - if not a little awkward- silence fell between them. “What now?”

“Tony said you were smart.” Harley blurted, cause he had nothing else to say. He blushed a bit at the outburst and Peter Just looked amused.

“How did he get to that conclusion.” He asked in a teasing tone. Harley shrugged, trying to look casual but probably failing under Parker’s vigilance. If it did, he didn’t say anything.

“Dunno. But he says it. He doesn’t say it often so...” Harley trailed off and looked at Peter who now had an amused smirk on his face.

“It has to be true.” He finished for him and Harley nodded in confirmation. Tony didn’t say that people were smart often, when he did it was usually the idea or opinion and not the person itself. When he said a person was smart, it meant they were fucking smart . He didn’t throw around that compliment lightly. So when Tony said that Peter was smart, he took it like it was a unchangeable fact.

“Is it?” Harley asked, even if his opinion on the matter couldn’t be wavered. Natasha says that an answer, even if they really did have no choice in the matter, could tell you a lot of a person. In this case, it was Peter’s humility and ego that was being tested. Peter looked thoughtful before answering, he then looked up wistfully.

“I mean, I guess. I grew up in a place where book smarts didn’t matter. Street smarts would help you survive.” Peter said and then shrugged. “It was a toss up whether I’d even have enough money for a graduation gown.” Peter said and then grimaced “turns out I didn’t need one though.” There was more to that answer than he knew. Or probably he did. It seemed like Peter did want to graduate high school at least, but something got in the way of that. Something that wasn’t Spiderman related. That changed the story that Harley had fabricated a lot. But he also felt like he was still missing something.

“What happened? You don’t seem like a stupid guy to flunk out of high school.” Harley said honestly. It was true, when he first saw Peter he didn’t seem like he would skip or anything. He seemed almost intelligent, but then Harley jumped to conclusions about him dropping school for Spiderman at that first (not really but still) insult. It justified his anger if the person who was insulting them was wrong in their logic.

“Life. Aunt wasn’t paying the rent because she was getting high more often after my uncle died. Even if he was around he was too drunk to support us for much longer.” Peter said, Harley couldn’t pick out the tone. But geez, that fucking sucked. Aunt getting high and drunk uncle went hand in hand with abuse (but if Harley learned anything, he knew not to assume. But still, as messed up as it was, it would make more sense if Peter had been abused. How else would he be able to casually take horrible things in stride?). That part didn’t need to be said out loud though. Harley was only like 70 percent sure of it. Again he couldn’t assume anything about Parker.

“Geez, Sorry man.” Harley said, there seemed nothing else to say (Peter was rendering him speechless much more than he thought this conversation would). Somehow he wasn’t surprised though. It was messed up and totally horrific, but somehow it was what he was expecting. It made sense.

The thing is, he could totally see Peter getting abused and picked on. He was small and unassuming (or at least he looked that way. Harley wasn’t so sure he was the athlete type before he got his powers) He took his bullying as Spiderman with such little thought. Like it didn’t even effect him. It didn’t chip away at him. But one well placed comment could tear him apart. That kind of attitude came with experience. Experience That no one has ever accepted him and acceptance that probably no one will accept all of him.  It was messed up and Harley hated that he couldn’t see it before or do anything before. He was also kind of mad at the Avengers for not doing anything about it. But Peter didn’t seem like the type to accept help easily. Again, he’d been fucked over too many times to not be suspicious of someone being nice to him.

“It’s whatever.” Peter shrugged, he looked like it really didn’t bother him, which was weird cause that kind of shit fucked kids up. Harley didn’t want to believe that Peter had been in worse, so he didn’t, not until Peter said so. “Doesn’t really matter anymore cause they’re dead. I can’t keep a public record if I’m not going into CPS. So either graduate or dropout.” Peter said. That explained it. It was a fucking good reason not to go to school. No one wanted to go into the system, especially if you had other options (which Peter did have as Spiderman) Tony said the reason he dropped out was probably because he wanted Spider-Man and then went to reprimand the kid because he shouldn’t be focusing on dying, just school. Get a real life and all that shit but...

Peters real life was absolute shit. And the was putting it lightly.

Fucked up would be a better term; and he could never have any chance of cleaning it cause it was the foundations of his life. No wonder he wanted to escape into the world of heroes and villains, with his enhanced abilities it’d only get worse for him where he came from. With him being a freak and outcast and an orphan with no one to go back to. When There was really no where for him to go, because being someone your not was way easier to do than to face your shitty reality. Harley wouldn’t want to face it either. Peter thought he was just gonna end up getting a blue collar job and that would be it for him. At least he wanted to help people somehow by being Spider-Man.

It made sense.

“Why didn’t you go into the system?” Now that he said it out loud it sounded like a stupid question. Of course he didn’t go into the system, especially to finish something as useless (to Parker at least) as school. Who would want to put themselves through a hell they couldn’t escape? Because once you were in, there was no going out, there was no do overs, no second chances, no dropping out. You were in it til you were 18 and 3 years didn’t seem like much but it was really an eternity. The unamused look he got had him holding his hands in surrender and Parker rolled his eyes in an almost good natured way. Peter talked anyway, even if that question didn’t need to be answered.

“My life was fucked as soon as I was six- actually, scratch that, it was fucked when I was three. No way I’d get anywhere worth getting to before. And then this shit happened.” He gestured to himself, and Harley knew it meant his powers. “Then some other shit. Then I had to fix some of my own shit that I messed up. Then I was like well it doesn’t really matter anymore so if I’m gonna die then why not help some people out before I get there. Then more shit. Then this shit.” Peter gestured around himself, making wide gestures to emphasize how much he couldn’t get out of this. It was almost as if he didn’t have a choice in being Spiderman. “and now I’m here.” Peter put his elbows on his knees and looked at Harley. Neutral look waiting for an answer of some sort. He was way too casual for this sort of conversation. Being way too laid back about this topic. But as Harley said, Parker was a chill dude, like really chill apparently.

“That’s a lot of shit.” Harley said, acknowledging it almost as if he would be acknowledging something a child said.  “you dealt with all of it?”Peter shrugged.

“Eh most of it.” Peter said in a so so way, moving his hand in a corresponding motion.

“Anything they can help with?” Harley asked gesturing to the door which the Avengers were behind. Peter snorted immediately.

“Harley, no offense, but one of the reasons Fury brought me into this clusterfuck in the first place was because I would help deal with some of their problems. Trust me, I don’t need to add mine on top of it.” Peter said. Harley felt himself choke up for a second. The fuck? Does that mean the Avengers didn’t know about Peter’s real life. They didn’t know why he dropped out? They didn’t know he was supporting himself and barley getting by because he was a kid and didn’t want to raise suspicion and also because he was fucking Spiderman. The kind of shit he was dealing with required fucking a shit ton of therapy. Like noon to five, three days a week in a trauma center kind of therapy, at the least .

“Oh...anything I can help with then?” Harley asked more out of Curtiss. He knew he could help with exactly none of anything Peter was dealing with. Peter, bless his soul, looked at him in a thankful but unrealistic way for a second.

“Probably.” He shrugged. Harley, not expecting that answer, felt hope bubble in him. “But I’m not letting you anywhere near it.” Harley groaned, bubble officially burst. Peter laughed at that (and how could he laugh and smile like that when his life was utter crap).

“Come on Parker.” He whined. Peter smirked amused by Harley’s reaction.” Why not?” Even though he knew why.

“Because one: Stark would kill me. B: the Avengers would bring me back to life to kill me again- which if I die I do not want to be brought back to life, just let me fucking die. And lastly: my shit is not like the Avengers shit. It’s dangerous and not sponsored or supported. No doctors, no allies, don’t drag civilians in under any circumstances kind of thing. It’s not an alien invasion. Most of the time the media, much less the government don’t  even know about it.” Peter ranted off and then said more seriously and quietly, not looking Harley in the eye but at the wall in front of him. “And it’s messed up, Harley, it gets really messy and it’s so wrong that it’s not even funny. I can’t even find a way to joke about those things, and normal civilians aren’t dragged in unless they aren’t as normal as they thought they were. So unless your dragged in, no you cannot help.” He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear the quietly muttered “and I hope you’re never able to help me.” Peter said under his breath, but he did.

...Parker cared… a lot… and About him.

...Wow.

“How is it worse than HYDRA?” Harley asked almost breathlessly, not believing Peter but not entirely not believing him either. Peter huffed out an incredulous laugh, as if he couldn’t believe himself (but what he said was probably true. There is a lot of messed up shit in this world Harley doesn’t know about that Peter does. The papers in his hands is probably one of them).

“You don’t want to know. This is the kind of shit the government covers up when they finally find the bodies. It’s messed up.”  Peter said quietly, as if talking about was a sin. There was a pause and he clapped him on the back with an off putting smile. “Hey it’s gonna be okay.” He said happily and Harley looked at his smile in disbelief. How can anything be okay? How he say that when his life was so messed up. When he knew just much the world was messed up. How could he smile and nod and pretend like everything in his life wasn’t trying to actively kill him? How could he still want to help people when they only betray, use or belittle him? He has the world set against him, and he’s telling Harley some bullshit about everything being okay?

Hell no.

“How was any of the shit you just told me remotely near okay?” Harley asked with his brow pinching and Peter sighed. Like he really wanted to end it there, but Harley wouldn’t let that happen. Not until he understood why Peter pretended his life wasn’t going straight to Hell.

“It’s okay because despite all the shit that happened, and the shit that will eventually happen, I don’t regret having my kind of childhood.” Peter said quietly with a sad smile on his face, he didn’t look Harley in the eye and stared at the ground in front of him as he let his hand drop from Harley’s shoulder.

“Your kind of childhood was over before it even began.” Harley said in a dead tone. Peter huffed a humorless laugh.

“Yeah, but I understand things better than I ever could with a normal one. I know where drug circles are and dealer’s patterns and I know Queens like the back of my hand because of it and...” Peter let himself smile a bit brighter.” And I’m proud of myself for getting this far on my own. I’m proud of myself everyday I don’t die or help someone. Cause I didn’t rely on anyone but myself. I did it on my own. I got here on my own. And I’m helping people. I have no one to impress. No strings attached.” Peter said with a nod and looked at the mission and paused before continuing. “Well not entirely my own... the guy who gave me this mission” Peter flicked the paper up quickly “he saved me once... I owe this to him.” Peter smiles at Harley. Harley didn’t know what to say to that. Before he shook his head and smiled himself.

“God, that’s- that’s fucking inspiring man. You should write Disney movies.” Harley said with a shake of his head. It was corny but made sense. Peter made sense, and he didn’t make sense at the same time. But that’s okay, because Peter was okay (or he would be once he got out of whatever loop he’s been in).

“Technically Marvel is Disney.” Peter said back and Harley looked confused. Peter laughed and shook his head “never mind. I forgot you can’t break the fourth wall. “ He snickered And Harley slapped his arm playfully.

“Marvel? That’s so stupid! Why would our universe be Marvel?” Harley said with a snort and Peter laughed.

“Ask the producers.” He said and Harley laughed at that.

“Your insane, man.” He said good naturedly and Peter gave him a knowing smirk but didn’t retort.

Maybe having Peter Parker as a friend wouldn’t be that bad.

OoOoO

It could never be easy, could it?

He couldn’t enjoy the little good things that happen in his life for a long time; he’s long since learned to charity things in the moment. Good things don’t last for him that long. But bad things always linger. In hindsight he should’ve seen this coming. He should have known Parker Luck wouldn’t just get rid of his past so easily. That’s on him, he’ll admit to that much. But this ? He thinks he deserved a little warning before this kind of shit happened. Was that too much to ask universe?

Apparently it was.

“I don’t wanna. Last time didn’t go so well.” Peter whined tugging on Fury’s hand that was gripped around his wrist all the way up the elevator. He could tell all the complaining was getting on Fury’s nerves. But it wasn’t his fault, he was meeting someone new today apparently. Another auxiliary Avenger or whatever. He was still trying to adjust to a fucking king working with them, there was no way in hell that he could get used to...whoever this person was at the same time. It was all a little too much even for him.

“I don’t care Parker. We’ve got another mission. This time with a… rehabilitated asset.” Fury said again with a mumble. Peter made a whining noise again but didn’t say that that was the problem. Maybe if he annoyed Fury enough, he could get out of this due to Fury’s temper. What he didn’t account for was Fury’s Peter Parker BS tolerance (which went up significantly since they had met, and although Peter was immensely proud of Fury for growing, it was also a big dampener whenever he didn’t want to do something. It was harder to get out of things through annoyance alone.)

“Stop calling humans assets, it’s degrading.” Peter said back letting himself be dragged. Going limp and trying to add weight to himself instantly so Fury would slow down or trip up. Needless to say the method was ineffective due to logic and science. “And why is it so important that I’m here. Fresh out of the barn Rehab people and snarky annoying assholes don’t mix well. Like at all. Don’t you think this little meeting should wait until..I dunno, never .” Peter said as he was pushed through the sleek doors into the conference room where debriefing was held. If Fury answered, he didn’t hear it.

He froze.

Next thing he knew, Peter was pushed into the wall roughly, being heldup by his neck. He didn’t have time to react. He didn’t have time to dodge. It just happened and his Spider sense was making his heart pump out of his chest and vision blurry, sending painful raps down his back. And yeah he knew he was in danger.

‘Thanks a lot Spidey Sense, you are forever my constant companion and savior .’

He was pushed into a wall by a person he didn’t really wanna remember and couldn’t really breathe, which was you know, an essential life function. Weather it was because of the choking or the panic attack, he wasn’t really sure. Maybe both? But yeah, again thanks for the heads up SS, you really are the MVP.

He’d been pinned down before, in much scarier situations (or maybe this was the most scary situation. Okay remedy that to theoretically scary situations). But this was different. Very and completely different. Usually the people who pin him down aren’t (ex?) HYDRA assets who had trained him from ages 3-6, who were supposed to be dead and who he really did not to remember. At all. He could hear muffled screaming and talking and noise, every thing but the face of his attacker was blurry. He was going to push back before a clear voice said.

“How did you find me?” The hoarse scratchy deep voice said. Gruff and only sometimes gentle. Coming as a horrific confirmation that this was very much real.

That voice. He’d heard it before, although it didn’t make itself known much. The things it said were important. The words it said was what Peter built his life on. Peter could never forget that voice.  Low and gruff. As if it was only used to speaking in grunts.

No .

“How did-“ Peter's voice was hoarse and dry, he’d lost all his breath as if he had been winded. The clothed metal arm against his throat slammed into him again making him gasp a little. Tears sprang in the corner his eyes as he made a small choking sound. (He never choked very loudly, that was just something he noticed about himself. He liked being strangled without yelling or loud noises, because he had to save that energy for, you know, breathing.)

No. Not soldier. Not HYDRA.

You can’t go back!

“Hello I am Peter Parker. How did I ruin your life?” Peter gasped out, hand never loosening. The irony was that Soldier tore his life apart, nearly 10 years ago. He didn’t think the soldier heard him regardless.

“Answer the question!” The voice shouted. Peter closed his eyes and tried to breath, so it was definitely the panic attack. At least he figured it out. He was like 68.32 percent sure.

“Hey. Hey Buck. Put Parker down.” Nope. Not the right thing to say. Shut the fuck up. Don’t say that name as a singl- The arm tightened, Peter made a slight gagging sound in response.

“He’s dangerous,Steve.” Wow . What a fucking honor . Being a danger to the Winter Soldier? Too bad that compliment worse out like a whole decade ago. Because he left him, not the other way around, Soldier.

‘You left me.’

“No. He’s not.” Go an’ degrade him like that? Thanks a lot Steve. You know he didn’t work this hard to not be respected...it’s not going real well, but that doesn’t mean Steve can’t appreciate his effort. “He’s a kid.” Yeah, technically. But  he didn’t feel like one. Especially when he’s fucking dying at the hands of his old roomie.

‘You left me alone there.’

“Yeah, but... he’s not just a kid.” Okay, Soldier. Nope nope. No spilling uncomfortable secrets now. That’s not what HYDRA taught you. No sensitive information, that’s confidential for a reason . Cause he doesn’t  want anyone to know, and if Soldier does spill Peter has a lot of dirt on him too. So he better shut the fuck up!

‘I trusted you!’

Remember your training!

“Reign in the evil buddy. I’m just a kid.” Peter choked out, remembering to speak English (because when he spoke in English, Soldier always seemed less stressed). The head snapped back to him from lingering over to Cap, and crushed his neck once more, as if to shut him up, like he didn’t get a say.

Yeah, but when have you ever got a say? ... god  it made a point.

But he barely had room to breathe as tapped twice on the metal arm softly. He needed to get out. Just two taps. Just two.

“Let me go please.” Tap tap.

“I don’t want to fight you anymore.” Tap tap.

“I don’t want to fight you.” Tap tap.

“I don’t want to fight.” Tap tap.

“Please don’t make me fight.” Tap tap.

...

“It’s not up to me...” Tap.

The grip instantly loosened, releasing him from his oxygen lacking prison. Peter fell down on his knees. Coughing softly and rubbing feeling back into his throat.  It still was hard to breath, so 100 percent certain of a panic attack. Okay, okay…

He had to go.

“Buck?” He heard Steve ask cautiously. He didn’t see Soldier stumble back or Steve catching him as Peter tried to catch a breath. He didn’t want to hear this conversation.

“Who is he?”Peter instantly felt panic at Soldier's soft question. The tone was soft but it was loud in his ears. Peter shut his eyes and tried to breath.

“It’s easier to say in English.”

“Spiderman.” He choked out quickly. Not letting anyone answer for him. “And you’re the freaking Winter Soldier . Wow. Barnes? Right?” The excitement was dampened by his strained hoarse voice. He didn’t look up and see the Avengers flinch and some even took a step forward to maybe help him then thought against it so he could breath (smart choice) at it but he felt The soldier stiffen.

“How do you know my name.” Peter tried to straighten up but glanced briefly at Bucky from where he sat. Breath almost coming back to him now that he had some control over this situation.

Who are you fooling? You don’t have any control over what happens in your life. Where’d you get that idiotic thought.

“I went to school sometimes.” Peter muttered and he looked pointy anywhere except an animated being and Cap looked at him confused. “We learn about y’all during the World War Two unit.” Peter rolled his eyes, gaining back his composer as he started to ignore Soldier’s presence.

“Why’d terminator go AWOL on the kid?” Tony asked casually, pointing the pen in his hand jerkily between the two with a raised brow and eyes showing over his sunglasses that tilted down with his head. Voicing The question everyone was wondering. Voicing the question Peter was dreading. He just wanted everyone to forget about him. Forget about this situation. But he never going to ever be that lucky, was he?

Cause he remembers me after all.

“He reminds me of someone…” he said uncertainly, almost like he was scared. Peter couldn’t help but stare up at him in wonder. The soldier was only scared once that Peter had seen… he didn’t notice as he went completely still, heart pounding at an erratic rate “I wasn’t sure if he was dead.” Bucky mumbled Peter rolled his eyes, trying to gain some sense of himself. He couldn’t allow himself to panic. It would look suspicious and he hadn’t done it since he was a kid. The Soldier looked at him with a haunted look of someone who they thought was a ghost. Same dude, oh my god let’s start a club!

“Right. Like I remind anyone of anyone. I probably pissed you off somehow.” Peter said under his breath in an incredulous drone. Bucky looked at him panicked and confused, and just...sad (which gross! Pity sucked! Get it away.Ewwwww). Oops . He must have heard him.

“No you did-“ Peter had to stop this. He had to go. He had to leave and not come back until he’s screamed and cried out all these... feelings. He stood up so abruptly, the Soldier stumbles back a little in shock.

“Don’t worry. I piss everyone off. It’s kinda my thing.” Peter announced proudly, puffing out his chest. He was anything but proud of himself for that. It was because he didn’t mean to piss people off. He just needed to do the things that did sometimes (read: all the time). He didn’t want to not be liked. It made it hard for him to have a good self esteem. It just made it hard for him to do anything involving other interacting people.It made it hard for him to form connections.

That you can’t have idiot.

‘But it’s lonely’

You should go.

He probably should before this got messy. Well at least visably so. It still threw him off that Barnes remembered him (sorta). When they were in the room, he didn’t even know Peter existed half the time (after a certain point). And they fucking lived together. Trained together, ate together, slept together. He was in only one other place if Soldier wasn’t there. He was always there ! And then he left. Ripped Peters only semblance of stability into shreds and didn’t even bother to remember his own name. Now after all these years, he comes back having flashes of a time Peter wanted to so desperately forget. That he spent so much time trying to not remember ! He couldnt afford to remember it. He couldn’t afford to be that distracted and out of it. Not in the field and not before a mission or job. Defiantly not in front of the Avengers .

And Peter was getting better (in his own weird way). He was settling, finally settling. He was giving into routine. His life wasn’t changing too much, he was be gaining the courage to finally feel comfortable. As far as he could see (literally only seconds ago) it wouldn’t be changing a lot, before now.

He had been lying to Fury when he had found him after he got glitter bombed. This was rock bottom. This was the big bad fucking decision/event that would spiral the rest of his next few moths to a year into a clusterfuck of feelings and emotions and all the things he had been trying to avoid for nearly a decade.

Now his life was set to take many different courses. Many different painful courses. Now he was on a twisty road and he couldn’t see the outcome. It’s going to take forever for it to be straight road again (if it was ever straight to began with, well maybe it was but Peter could close his eyes and not have to worry about anything as he drove before -on this metaphorical road. Now he had to actually look where he was driving because people were on his road again. This was a fucking metaphorical road that was giving him anxiety now! What the hell was his life anymore?). He was going through a freaking existential crisis here!

So basically the world wasn’t spinning off its axis.

What a load of Bull.

“You... I’m sorry...” Soldier offered, that threw Peter way off (but he was already off the metaphorical road he was on). This guy fucking decked him as a 5 year old. He sliced him up in combat training to the point where his skin was more scar than flesh. Threw him against jagged cages of the arena they spared in. Yelled and screamed profanities when he was trying to sleep. He pointed a gun to his head right before he left for years and didn’t say anything. Stripped him of all innocence and sanity. Made him an emotionless shell that he was left to fill by himself because no one cared anymore!

Now he was saying sorry. He never said sorry before. He never said sorry when it actually meant something. Now he’s throwing Peter against the wall and looking apologetic? Like that would change everything he’s taken away!

Peter didn’t buy that crap for a second.

“Been in worse.” He said easily waving him away. He felt breathless. He was trying to act like he wasn’t breaking down. It usually worked, but it wasn’t working. “Happens.” He said trying to sound casual, it wasn’t working that well with his hoarse voice. He blamed it on the choking session. Hopefully he soldier (And everyone else) did too. If he did, he didn’t care. He had to go.

Reminds me of old times.

“I sh-“

“No. I’m really sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever said it to him before...” well that means a lot now. thanks. “I think he’d be around your age.” His eyes flicked to Natasha briefly and Peter followed the gaze. Natasha looked sad and it was kinda the same look that she used when she told him about her- oh...

Oh shit.

They think that kid was her son... Probably for a good reason, they wouldn’t  jump to that conclusion unless they had a good reason. It was really far fetched and totally unplausible so they probably have a really good reason. Especially the Black Widow and Winter Soldier had that reason. It was like 97 percent set in stone and probably true because they’ve been looking into it for like... ever .  But at least they had a bigger lead than they had let on.

Well he hoped they found him...

...

Wait.

Your the kid in the room.

Idiot.

You’re her son.

...

Oh...oh no.

Peter turned white. “I have to go.” His breathing was short now (like you know visibly) even if he just caught his breath. He couldn’t do this here. He had to get out. He looked at Natasha on more time and it only confirmed what he thought they thought their son was. It also confirmed something else. She glanced at Barnes.

No way! The soldier was his...

No no. This can’t be happening! This wasn’t true!

That’s my mom!

That’s my dad!

Those are my parents!

Peter was on the verge of a panic attack. He probably was already having one. Some one must have noticed because Fury had the sense to pull him out of there.

Thank god!

The relief was short lived. “What the hell was that?” Fury asked nearly screamed, his face enraged. Peter yanked his arm out of Fury’s hold harshly and stumbled. The world blurred for a minute. Didn’t focus all the way and Peter resigned that this was as good as his vision was going to be.

The Black Widow is my mom!

“I have to go.” He said quickly, mumbling trying to find a way out. Outside. His eyes zeroed in on the window. He made a beeline for it. Something grabbed him around the middle and lifted him a little.

The Winter Soldier is my dad!

He couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Oh no, Underoos.” Stark’s voice said and Peter tried to push away with a whine. He needed to get out of here! He didn’t want to do this here!

“I can’t do this. Not today.” Not ever. Never ever. Never ever again. “Can we reschedule?” his voice pitch an octive. He didn’t like that.

But who cares what you like? Who cares what you think? No one cares if you’re comfortable. They don’t care about. No one ever has. What makes you think anyone ever will.

That was the bad voice. That wasn’t good. That wasn’t fucking good!

“We gotta talk.” The outside voices were muffled with the inside ones.

They brought the Soldier back...

“Explain what just happened. ” Was that the inside voice?

He’s gonna take you to Hydra ...

“He’s not responding.” He needed to think.

They’re gonna be angry you left...

“He’s not a fucking computer Fury!” He needed for it to be quiet.

They aren’t gonna kill you…

“Just answer us!” Shut up!

They’re gonna destroy you.

“No!” Peter screamed.

There was a snap and then silence.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5- Everything You Wanna Be

Spidey was a nutcase in a nutshell.

Red was a nutshell in a nutcase.

Deadpool was just a nut.

They worked well together.

They could kick anyone’s ass decently enough. And Spidey and Red didn’t get in his way when he needed to kill. They understood. They didn’t try to stop him and they didn’t mention it. They let him do what he needed to do. They had enough collective common sense (or maybe just a messed up kinda sense) to not get in his way. And he had enough sense and respect to not get in theirs (it didn’t matter if he was unkillable, he was 67 percent sure that the kid had find some sciency or mathy way to kill him. But Petey knew how to combine those two subjects and that was just horrifying)

They must have grown to like each other, because they hung out when, as Wade called them, “two ugly sluts and a foster kid”. Matt agreed even though that was the time he was supposed to be blind (Wade was 43 percent sure he was lying) and Peter said he would touch the foster system with a 69 and a half foot pole (even if he didn’t even celebrate Christmas. But Wade didn’t even remember that song exactly so he wasn’t sure if it was really festive or not. But that sounded right)

Spidey doesn’t actually drink when he’s in the bar with them (like the good child he was). He doesn’t even take water which was actually really smart. He just buys and untainted coke or sprite or whatever soda or juice that was in sale (or if it was Wednesday, Wade would drag him to get a gas station slurpy from 7/11, and it was a toss up weather the kid would get sick and cuddly and they could watch my little pony or be perfectly fine and watch my little pony. Wade preferred the former because Pete was so cute when he was tolerably sick) from a nearby corner store and enjoys Matt and Wade getting drunk off their asses. But to be fair, the kid really does deserve to knock a few shots. It’s not like they would say anything.

The kid must’ve had so much Blackmail material. That wasn’t good for him (especially when the black file was in the hands of Peter Parker).

What also wasn’t good is how close the fucking kid had gotten over the past year (even closer than before and now it was more dangerous because what they were doing was technically ‘ illegal’  Or whatever now). He is smart, too smart. Smart enough to read Wade and tell when he’s lying (he’s always been good at reading people, and Wade had taught him to use those skills. Hone them if you will. but now he was like using it against him and that wasn’t good). Smart enough to dodge a bullet and fire back (or maybe that was skill? The kid used a thing called physics, Wade and Matt had agreed that was bullshit and continued on with their day). Smart enough to get the mid level Sudoku in the newspaper (he was pretty sure the kid signed up for like professional sudoku shit to get money for that stomach of his).

The kid was a freaking Genius.

He’d wiggled his way into his heart all those years ago, and somehow their relationship had changed from a weird ass mentor/mentee thing where the kid covered his own ass and Wade’s and now they had this weird ass relationship where either Spidey or Deadpool would suggest something stupid, the other would say it was probably the worst fucking idea they’ve ever had, and the proposer would agree, and they proceed to do it anyway, because why the fuck not? They were gonna die anyways.

So nothing's really changed persay. Just the situation.

Spidey was young but it wasn’t until Wade found out that Spidey was 15 (Wade always forgot the kid was a kid sometimes. He just considered Parker a tiny human being because he can’t remember dates. But that’s okay because Parker doesn’t know how old he really is too) and fucking graduated highschool ( he was so proud) to figure out how young he was. Which was weird because one would think that maybe seeing the kid with a gun twice the size of him going into battle, or maybe when the kid was crying in the rundown bathroom in Siberia because he was so stressed. He was a baby! Smart and fucking considerate child. He was a good kid who only wanted to help people and kittens, and what the hell was a kid like that doing in the middle of a human trafficking scam? Where literal kids -not even 2 years younger than him- were being sold as slaves, and being starved and raped, and there was blood everywhere !

Wade and Red tiptoed around him, trying not to get him involved with him in the big stuff until 2 weeks later they were found out, when the kid snatched a gun right out of Wade’s holster and shot him three times in the head and pointed the gun to Red’s and told them to ‘stop being fucking shitheads’ .

Despite a few select moments, Spidey was actually really easygoing. He quipped and joked with the best of them in the worst situations. Always had a way out and could plan for every happening in a second. When the plan went to shit, Wade found himself relying on Spidey to get them out with minimal damage. The personality the kid had also helped when they were trying to calm panicking kids or hostages. Peter by no means was a people person, but when handling kids it was best to have a kid to calm them down. And unlike Wade and Matt (who were shit with kids) he gave off less of a cereal killer vibe, so bonus points.

Yeah, Spidey could handle himself. And usually he was chill and laid back.

Except for tonight. He didn’t open his coke he got from 7/11 down the street. He just stared into a void ( the void) and goddammit the only time he’d seen Peter like this was when he came back from wherever the hell he was with Logan for 4 months. He would fucking kill Logan, because when the kid is staring into the void , it was fucking scary.

The void was the sucking of all the life and light in him and leaving behind all the broken sorrow and general confused and disappointed look as society seemed to fail him again. A harsh reminder that the kid had gone through hell and back several times and that no amount of joking and pretending would make him okay. He’d never be okay again. It was a reminder that people were mean and the world was a fucked up place and he had never gotten it gift wrapped like other kids. That Humans, no matter how much faith he has in them to be good, are still the worst fucking creatures on this planet.

Wade knew he shouldn’t continue letting the kid have that belief (or pretending to believe that the world was a great and interesting place and ignoring that it was really a shithole. The belief that he could help make it better and people can be kind to everyone. The belief that this planet was a fair and just place and good people get good opportunities and nothing bad will happen to them), but he was just a fucking kid . He didn’t need to be scarred and shown what the world truly was: A big piece of shit floating through space, inhabiting the most terrifying and cruel creatures in the universe: humans.

But Wade forgets sometimes that Peter had seen it. The blood, and death and tortured bodies all stacked on top of each other neatly or haphazardly. Lifeless corpses that were no less that 6 years younger than him. He forgets That the kid sometimes had to kill other kids. Had to put them out of their misery or followed an order. He forgets That the kid has tortured everyone between the ages 10-70 and then some. He forgets just how much red the kids hands are covered in. Seeping into his skin and soaking him to the bone.

Wade forgets that, because the kid actually acted like a puppy sunshine child and not some emo vampire teenager. No angst surrounding him and he didn’t let the red get to him. Before it was because he had to push down all the trauma because he had to pretend to be normal. Now he did it because he had no one to trust to be a mess with. He and Matt both forget, Peter has seen and done so many things that he shouldn’t have seen or been able to do.

But he did.

‘Because I can’t let them die , not again.’

He thinks Peter sometimes forgets he’s human, much less a fucking kid. But that wouldn’t be a surprise. For as long as Wade’s known him (nearly 10 years now,good god, how had the kid put up with him for that long?) he’s been treated like a freak. Like a monster. Called things that weren’t true back then. He was a normal kid who was super smart and could shoot a bullet right. That’s it. Back then he wasn’t a mutant, but he was treated like one. Even when they left Special Forces that air of insecurity followed him. It messed him up and made him think he wasn’t worth anything. He allowed himself to be outcasted because that was normal to him.

It was normal for him to be alone.

“Who’s ass do I need to kick?” Wade said to the out of it Peter. Peter didn’t acknowledge him until some light came back into his eyes. He knew that he was just borrowing it from the lamp above him, but it looked so real.

“ We .” Matt said from behind him, god that ninja bastard. But yes this was good, he could enlist Matt to track these motherfuckers down. It would be way easier with a sensor that was better than a bloodhound.

“It’s stupid.” Peter replied quietly and that’s exactly what he said when Logan dumped his ass on his doorstep and Peter meekly asked if he could stay with Wade until he got enough money to get a place to live… again. (Cable’s name was currently on his studio apartment (because he lost a bet with the kid - never bet against him he was always right) and that SHIELD job sometimes paid him a nice salary, and he sometimes worked the bar. But Weasel always pays him too much, weather if it was because he noticed how skinny the kid is all the time or he was just genuinely terrified of him - as he should be, Parker could kill him and he wouldn’t even know he was dead- he didn’t know. He thinks it’s a bit of both.)

“It’s not stupid if the black hole is back.” Matt said. Ahh, difference of opinion in the name but okay. Sometimes he forgot Matt could see the void too, even when he was blind.

Peter opened his coke and dumped a few painkillers, that Weasel had slipped in front of him when he first came in, into it and took a swig. Nice . He then barked out an ugly humorless laugh and Wade really didn’t like that sound coming from him. Matt didn’t either, apparent by the way he bristled like a fucking cat.

“Russian is a scary language.” Parker said looking at Wade, his face was dead serious. Ohh, so we were playing this game. Peter was good at this game because he was smart, Wade was stupid so he was bad and Matt was okay at this game. But no one can win against Peter Parker, he practically owns this game.

“Yeah, not as bad as German though.” Wade answered, this must be because of Spidey’s past before he was Spidey. So before 12 was the first hint. He always didn’t like German, Wade had noticed when they were in Berlin and someone was yelling at him in it and he was tapping his knife in contemplation of unaliving them to make the stupid seller be quiet (unfortunately, no one died and Wade didn’t get to see a nine year old slit a street vendors throat, but it was still funny) Peter shook his head.

“Yeah, German fucking sucks” Red nodded his head, apparently not liking the language either. Wade raises a brow at him.

“I don’t like the accent. It’s thick and annoying.” Matt answered his eyebrows and Wade made a noise of enlightenment and stored that piece for alter as Matt regarded Peter. “So is Russian. It’s like a more aggressive German.” Oh yes, Petey also had senses that were over the top. Man, did Wade feel left out.

Nah, it’s scary but ...nice? It was my first language.” the kid said and Matt nearly spit out his drink. Wade felt a little better knowing that he knew something Matt didn’t, but he was surprised. It’s not like Peter tried to hide it, he cursed in Russian all the time (probably in words that were too vulgar for the English alphabet ) But usually Red was more observant than that. Huh, oh well at least Wade got his second clue: It was before he met Wade. That was too easy baby boy. Maybe he’s going easy on them? But Peter had never ever talked about before he was six. Like never . So this was going to get harder, because now they were shooting in the dark.

“You’re bilingual?” Matt asked, apparently not addressing the issue at hand, which was they had no information on hand. Come on Matt,get with the program. They may not  do personal, but that felt like something he should’ve known. Peter smirked.

“Something like that, yeah. English is confusing but...but it can be nice...it also can be confusing...it’s not as pretty as Russian.” Was he okay? Wade was lost now. Was the kid on something? Was he tripping? Did he need to call a psychiatrist?...

Nah. It was probably a bit too late for that...

“So Russians?” Wade asked and Spidey got up. That meant time was up. Dammit they took too long, now they’d never get answers. And it was such a good opportunity to have something to pull over the kid when he betrayed him. Dammit. He didn’t have something as strong as Spidey’s black files and now the kid was more powerful than them.

“Let’s go.”

See? Spidey wins. Every. Time.

OoOoO

It had literally been a day since he left Wakanda.

It wasn’t even two seconds into his reinstament.  he’d been there literally less than a minute and he managed to screw up and ram a random kid into a wall and nearly choking him to death and giving him a panick attack.

He knew something like this would happen. Natasha had been so gentle with him and Wanda helping him get his memories back and T’challa and Shuri with the arm and rehab and Steve being there for him, and he started going on solo missions that didn’t last more than a week. Monitored, obviously.

He’d never fought with Spiderman before, but he knew the mask and he knew he was a kid. He’d never met him before. They kept missing each other for the whole year, but given that some of that year was spent in Wakanda and Spiderman generally not stopping by to just hangout, it made sense. He mostly stayed in New York and he was told he’d meet him eventually. Sam has been complaining about him for a long time, saying the kid wasn’t dangerous just annoying. But that wasn’t true. When he walked into the room, Bucky felt something dangerous inside him. Something he worked hard to surpress. Just like Bucky, but probably different.

He’d never seen the face, but that face and those eyes. Somehow, It triggered a whole different set of Flashbacks that he really could live without. A set of flashbacks that were so horrifying that he didn’t even want to think of them. The worst part is, he could live without them. Those certain flashbacks just reminded him of the monster he was.

White Room.

A kid in the corner.

He was reading a book in Russian, but talking in English.

It was terrifying.

The poor kid was backing away from him, looking as scared as that kid in the memories seemed to be when he was supposed to be sleeping. The looks were identical. It made him panic more, the kids presence obviously not helping him calm down. It made another man -Fury- pull the kid out all angry. He felt a little bad for the fate of that child. He’d done nothing wrong. It was just Bucky being dumb.

There was something about him though...

“Who was he?” Bucky whispered, Natasha’s soothing words finally coming through. Stark took one look at him and they locked eyes for only a moment before he huffed and stormed out of the room. Silently agreeing to get the kid out of the unnessasary lecture he was getting probably.

No, don’t yell at him. He doesn’t like it when people yell at him.

“No one love.” Natasha answered his verbal question in her gentle Russian accent. “What did you see?”

“I don’t know… there was this kid, he...he was reading a book. Pride and Prejudice I think. He was about...2 or 3? I don’t know….” Bucky said and quietly whispered. “He… he was in Hydra cell with me I think...I don’t know...I think he’s dead now...” Steve and Natasha stiffened before Steve quickly gained his composer back.

“It was probably because Parker looked so young.” Steve mumbled trying to sound justifiable, somewhere inside of him he felt bad for the kid. He was just as scared as Bucky had been, it’s not like anyone knew he would trigger a flashback. Why were they all so hard on him? He didn’t do anything wrong!

Still, he felt a little mad at the kid as Bucky choked up more. He had still triggered a flashback for him and that one hurt. A lot. He was on the verge of a panic attack and he hadn’t one of those in a while. But then something registered in Bucky’s mind.

“Parker?” he asked in a tight tone. The name triggering a smaller set of similar flashbacks. “He can’t be. Dr.Parker is dead . And he certainly wasn’t a kid.” Bucky emphasized, Natasha and Steve looked at each other. Worried and confused looks crossing both their faces.

“Who was he?” Natasha asked gently,petting his hair back and massaging his scalp in a way that she knew calmed him down. He took a deep breath before talking through it.

“H-He was a doctor at that facility the kid was in. He...He was the kid’s…” Bucky trailed off. The kid in the flashback looked so familiar, same big brown eyes same curly unruly mop of brown hair. Same scared looked (although the spider kid hid his better) Bucky felt something heavy go to the bottom of his stomach. He looked at Natasha who had paused and lost all colour in her face.

“What the hell!” a sound from the hallway, and Stark came stumbling in with a sickly bent arm, Bruce went over to him in a hurry to asses the damage. Steve was up and striding over behind Banner as Stark hissed at the prodding to the obviously broken arm.

“Safe to say the mission is thoroughly canceled.” Fury came back in almost leisurely. He had a deeper scowl than when he left. Obviously upset at the mission being canceled.

“What happened?” Steve stood up straighter and leaned away to let Banner work as Stark plopped on a seat. Fury looked like he was going explode with anger.

“The fucking kid bolted.” he ground out. It reminded Bucky of a boiling pot that was spilling over. They looked over to where Bruce was treating Tony best he could and blinked once.

“The kid did that?” Clint asked quietly sitting up in his chair. Worry setting into his own face, although Bucky wasn’t sure what he was worrying over.

“He’s so fucking- ugh!” Fury threw his hands up in frustration and spared a glance at Barnes. “You good?” He asked half heartedly, like a military commander. It was oddly comforting. Bucky choppily nodded. Natasha put a hand on his back and rubbed, amplifying his comfort.

“Have anything on a ‘Dr.Parker’?” she asked in a different tone than she used with him. Professional and straightforward. Fury stopped in his anger and looked at them.

“First name?” He asked back. Not even taking out a tablet. He knew something.

“Richard.” He answered without a hint of hesitation, like it was automatic. Fury looked like a deer on headlights, but he went on, “And his wife was Mary, I think that was her name…” Yeah, the kid liked Mary. There was silence for a while. Fury looked floored. All anger gone.

“...That’s not… Richard and Mary Parker are… are the kid’s parents.” Fury said gesturing to the door. He meant the Spider kid. But that couldn’t be true. “And he said he had a normal childhood, with his uncle and aunt cause his parents died.” Bucky scoffed. That kid was a spider mutant, there was nothing normal about that.

“Well he was lying to you then.” Bucky said without a hint of hesitation. He was sure. His confidence leaving the room silent. “Cause Mary Parker was infertile. All Hydra agents that are women are required to be.”

There was more silence.

“Shit!”

OoOoO

8 years ago...

He was a nervous mess.

That’s what Wade called him when he pointed a gun to the guys head in Scotland-which was a rather beautiful country if he did say so himself- and his hand was so shaky it could barely pull the trigger. That had been the first person he killed with a gun. He’d prefer killing them with knifes or strangling them with strings. It was less sudden and more interactive. He could control those more; control how deep he cut and where he cut. Guns were memories of Mama shooting target boards and people yelling at her to do better - even though Peter thought she was amazing. Guns was the pistol pointed at Mary Parker’s head and the blinking bird patch she left in Peter’s favorite book- Pride and Prejudice, the Russian translation of course. Guns were memories of Soldier one flick away from killing him and his terrified eyes- mirroring Peters own emotions.

But going to school couldn’t be compare to shooting a gun. School didn’t kill the person on the other end. Or maybe it did, he’d heard the kids wallowing about starting their first day of school in melodramatics and whining. They didn’t want to come to this institution and Peter couldn’t fathom what could be so bad about it. From his research, school seemed great . Learning things about the world and science and math and reading. Properly being taught and if he wasn’t mistaken, he could ask questions if he just raised his hand . It seemed almost too good to be true!

He was placed in second grade. He had never been to school before, But the people who placed him was told he was enhanced intelligent and that he’d been able to keep up in classes. They were wrong, he didn’t have enhanced intelligence and even if he did, he had the restraints on him so theoretically it wouldn’t work. He was still younger than everyone in his grade, because he had just turned seven, barley missing what they called a ‘cut off’, for the age limit.

Unlike other kids, his guardians didn’t drop him off. Everyone else called theirs ‘mom’ and ‘dad’, sure he knew what those were (your biological parent, but sometimes through the legal system they can become ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ but that technically wouldn’t be true because on legal forms it would be ‘guardian’. It was confusing) but only in books. In real life it seemed weird and almost painful, like a pipe dream (which was stupid they were just labels). He called his guardians May and Ben, by their names. Because Mr.Parker was evil and Mrs.Parker was dead. May wasn’t here because she had a long shift at the hospital and Ben wasn’t here because he yelled at him to get out and go to school and threw something that Peter dodges expertly (small training efforts).

Yeah, Peter couldn’t wait to go back to Wade in the summer, even if he did have to kill people when he saw him. He may not have like special forces, but he liked Wade. Wade was a nice grown up. Like Mary and Phil (well maybe not Phil since he dumped him with Cotnet). But at least in special forces he wasn’t alone, like he was here. Even though there were a lot of people and crowds always made Peter anxious and paranoid. New York was full of crowds and sometimes it made Peter’s head hurt with just how nervous he was around them.

Peter had stumbled all the way to school, looking on an old beat up phone for directions to the elementary schools name he saw briefly on a paper in Mays hand. As he went down the streets and sidewalks and buses, he committed the route to memory because he’d have to go on this route two times every day for five days every week (at least that’s what he thought with school hours and openings and closings).

When he finally got to the school, he didn’t know where to go so he looked around. He had no one to tell him what to do, so he looked around to just follow another kid. He needed someone oblivious enough not to catch on that he was following him and a target that was noticeable so he could stay a safe distance away and hide in the crowd. He picked his target: a big Philippine boy with a bowl cut hairstyle and large backpack with decals from a movie or show maybe on it. He was large so it was easy to spot him, and seemed innocent enough to be ignorant to Peters presence. He kept his head down as he followed the kid all the way inside the school weaving through densely populated hallways filled with students, teachers and parents talking to each other outside of rooms with light wood doors decorated with thick colorful construction paper. The boy turned into one of the many classrooms and Peter turned into the same one.

The classroom wasn’t as populated as the halls, so Peter was exposed. Still, he followed the kid (like an idiot , he should run before his cover was exposed) . When the boy stopped at a seat in the far end of the classroom halfway to the chalkboard near the window, Peter bumped into him because the desks were too close. The kid turned around as Peter rubbed his nose where it had smooshed against the large backpack full of school supplies (he brought like two pencils and a notebook that he bought at the dollar store).

“Ouch.” He mumbled, even though it only stung for a second, and the boy looked worried for a minute. It really wasn’t a big deal, he’s been in much more pain before. It was more a wound to his ego for not being as observant as he should. He should really find a word for his zone outs...or zone ins?

“Oh my god! I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there dude, you are so quiet and small.” Peter huffed at the blunt observation and crossed his arms. People called him small all the time, but that was because he was a kid and they were adults. He’d never been around kids his age, not in anyway that counted at least. Now he was surrounded by them and expected to interact with them, with people who had the same authority as him (at least by society’s standards). This kid was the same age as him, so he should not be allowed to make that comment. Still it didn’t seem like meant offense. It was just an observation; a comparison, because he was smaller than most of the other kids in the room. He let it slide.

“It’s alright.” Peter said nonchalantly, not wanting to make a scene of himself. He sat down in the nearest desk and leaned back in the chair, staring forward. It was a casual position that he had learned in Special Forces going on undercover missions to avoid suspicion. He rather liked the position, it was comfortable but highly unprofessional. The boys eyes went big he noticed out of the corner of his eyes, he looked over and raised an eyebrow. Silently asking him what he was thinking.

“You like Star Wars?” He asked as he noticed Peters bag. It was one that had been the least money (because he went to a convenience store for the bag), it was plain black with a white metal helmet patch on the front zipper. When Peter asked the cashier what the symbol meant, the guy looked at him weird before saying it was a stormtrooper and that he should really watch that series because it was good. He stored that away in the mental checklist that he needed to study pop culture.

Peter smirked at the memory now, the man had been so baffled that Peter didn’t know. He kind of liked it when he surprised people. “I’ve never watched Star Wars, but I didn’t get my backpack, my friend did.” He lied. He didn’t have a reasonable excuse that wouldn’t make someone pity him otherwise. The kids eyes widen and he looked invested.

“Woah, cool you have friends!” He said and Peter cocked his head. No not really. God damn he was going to regret this lie. The only friend he has that’s still definitely alive (or maybe not because he was in the tucking army) was Wade. And he wasn’t so much of a friend as he was like a laid back supervisor. “Hey would you mind being mine?”.... Shit…. That was not How expected this conversation to turn.

Interesting.

“I guess, I’ve never had friends my own age.” When they were older, the other boy would’ve questioned that. But they were kids so he didn’t see anything wrong with it. A friend was a friend no matter how you put it or what age they were. Sure it was little weird for a kid to be friends with an adult that was in no way related to them, but Peter was just a weird person. His lie has been anything but standard or any word that could be characterized as normal . He took what he could get, he wasn’t picky (especially if it was to society’s standards).

“Hey, maybe we can even watch Star Wars!” He said excitedly. Peter smiled at his antics. He rather liked the positivity that radiates from the boy. The pure innocence was refreshing and it was a nice example of what a kid his age should normally act. At least, he wanted to believe that kids all acted like him. It probably wasn’t.

“Yeah, sure.” Peter replies shyly. He felt good having someone be nice to him without being given the orders. Talk to him without any other motives than to just be with him. He enjoyed the idea of having a friend. It would make his life a lot less lonely.

“I’m Ned, by the way. Ned Leeds.” He smiled widely and Peter offered his own tentative smile.

“Peter Parker.” He said without hesitation. Even if that wasn’t his name in any of the sense. His name had changed so much from before, it kind of made him sad that he had to lose that piece of him, publicly at least.

Then a girl plops herself into the seat next to Peter, the one closest to the window. She had dark skin and wild curly hair that was just a few shades darker. And she was taller than Peter by a few inches, he noticed with a hint of envy. He was reminded of the small comment that Ned has pointed out. She pulled out a book and opened it to the marked page, and the title immediately caught Peter’s attention. Pride and Prejudice. But this one was in English. The girl seemed to notice his staring.

“‘Sup loser.”she said with a raised brow and nearly indifferent eyes, and Peter looked up quickly as if he got caught doing something bad and blushed a bit. Her nonchalant stare for him slightly unsettled him, but it was oddly comforting. More to what he was used to but...softer. Probably because they were the same age.

“Uhh…” Peter didn’t know what to say so he looked back at the book frantically to bring the attention to it and then at the girl again and blurted “the ending is kinda a let down.” It was lame and he kind of deflated at that. But the girl raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah? You’ve read it?” Peter nodded. She scoffed and went back to her book as she muttered “Huh, don’t spoil it then.” He smiled a little at that.

The next week, Peter was fully caught up on all the Star Wars movies and Michelle (as he found out her name when they were partnered for a science project) sat down next to him on Monday and said “you were right, Parker.” He had grinned. He was then given the right to call her ‘MJ’, for not being incompetent.

Maybe school wouldn’t be that much of a pain.

OoOoO

Present...

He’s successfully fucked off the face of the earth for 1 month.

He’s avoided the Avengers before but never to explicitly avoid them . Avengers fighting always meant a lot of publicity, and sometimes he really needed to stay low. This time was different.

To put it lightly, he fucked up.

The whole thing was a mess really. He was freaking out and couldn’t think straight. His survival instincts took over, and really they shouldn’t have gotten that close when he was having a panic attack (apparently his panic attacks were barley noticeable according to Wade. To someone who didn’t know him, he looked like he was just breathing a bit off. Like after a long run). Long story-short, He’d broken Tony Stark’s arm, and promptly banned himself from coming to the tower or answering any of Fury’s or the Avenger’s calls for six to eight weeks. (He was probably the only person in this universe who could ghost Nick Fury and get away with it. And he did take pride in that, thankyouverymuch).

He almost laughed to himself, because almost a year ago he was with May, watching bad Hallmark movies in the middle of April eating ice cream. He was gearing up to graduate high school early. A year ago he had friends and everything was moderately okay.

Now he was at her gravestone that was 1 foot away from Ben’s. And 4 feet away from Mary’s. Even if they buried an empty casket for her’s. The casket was for show, because they couldn’t say how she had actually died. They didn’t even have a body to bury . Now he was gearing up for the closest thing to war without it actually being war. Now he had no friends, no home and an on and off job of being a freelance mercenary/SHIELD agent/vigilante/bar tender, with sucky inconsistent hours and moderate pay. Just enough to get himself fed and keep himself taken care of (and even then he was still homeless because he was 15 and on the run from CPS).

He wished his mother was here. Or Mary. It was weird, but seeing Soldier again must have triggered some sort of want in him to see them and ask them what to do. They always knew what to do. But he couldn’t ask them.

Because their body’s ash. In Russia. It was Germany you dumbass.

Even his voices were wrong in their logic. It made Peter satisfied when he corrected them. It was a strange sense of satisfaction, frankly. He knew technically they were just a manifestation of insecurity and lonileness into a more real form. But sometimes, he just needed to pretend they were some one else.

He’d gotten six calls from Fury before he blocked his number (he did that sometimes when he needed to get away from him). He saw the news in a window on his way to work, saying Iron Man’s arm was broken- which seemed stupid to advertise but apparently if it was a non battle related injury due to a supposed ally...well, yeah he got it now.

The next day, Harley Keener ratted out that Spiderman did it on instagram, and Tony was too embarrassed that he got the shit kicked out of him by a spandex wearing dropout (which made him panic a little because that was a bit more sensitive information than he’d like to go out to public. Even though it wasn’t nesasarily true. But it made him think about all the other shit Harley could say, luckily he didn’t. But it was safe to say, his tentative trust in Harley Keener was dashed entirely). That’s when the general public started to turn on him, well more so (given that Jameson has already convinced them he was some sort of alien terrorist) by throwing things at him when he swung through the city (like fruits and toilet palate and eggs and just about your average grocery list. Which was a waste of good food, like come on guys. It sucked too because his stomach was too messed up to handle any of the products thrown. Like seriously couldn’t they just throw a juice box or popsicle his way? He was starving). It kinda sucked cause he thought that Harley and him would’ve been good friends. He understood where the non superpowered teenager was coming from but still…

It would’ve been nice to have a friend again.

Peter decided that he didn’t care. At least he shouldn’t care. He’s been in much worse PR situations and honestly he never really did anything based off of society norms anyway. He deserved the treatment anyways. It builds character. He made all the wrong moves, and now was paying that consequence (so suck in that Clint. Maybe the Avengers would Get off his back about avoiding consequences after this...Yeah right).

But what was really annoying him currently: he couldn’t get that little voice in his head to shut up.

That voice telling him to give up already and give himself to Hydra.

That voice that said screw them, they don’t deserve your help.

That voice that said that he didn’t deserve anyone else’s help.

That voice was so hard not to listen to (especially when he was alone), and everyday he was avoiding the Avengers it got louder and louder. It was fueled by guilt and regret and fear and uncertainty- and Peter was feeling all of them right now. It was like they were created to break him down even when he was already beat into the ground. The voice that was the one that made good, sensible decisions usually- whom he also didn’t listen to, he’d be damned before thinking twice about making a decision between himself and someone else- got quieter. Like it agreed with the bad voice; it backed down when the bad voice was unquestionably right. He couldn’t hear it, and Peter hated listening to anyone, especially his voices. But somehow, they had the most influence on him.

“Shut up.” he mumbled out loud, and turned quickly away from May’s grave to leave the cemetery. He didn’t want her to see him like this. She didn’t deserve that. Neither did Mary. But Mary isn’t here, and whose fault is that. He squeezed his eyes shut.

It’s your fault she’s dead. It’s your fault that you broke Tony’s arm. It’s your fault that you were placed in that cell with Barnes. You weren’t good enough for your mother. Don’t you realize by now? You needed a fucking babysitter because you are so weak .

“Be quiet.” he mumbled half heartedly. He agreed with the voices though, and that only happened in low moments that he usually allowed himself not to feel. “I didn’t mean to break his arm, you made me do it…” It was saying something if he was blaming something that didn’t exist outside his head for a stupid thing he did. Trying to defend himself when he was responsible for his own actions. It was useless, especially against himself because he knew he was wrong.

You WANTED to do it. Don’t blame your actions on me. You know that it was satisfying. You probably won’t do it again, but somewhere deep down you don’t regret doing it then.

“No, I do. I swear, I do.” Peter mumbled frantically walking faster to get... somewhere . Somewhere where the voices couldn’t follow. Failing in Convincing himself that it wasn’t his fault. That any of the tragedy in his life wasn’t his fault . The voices weren’t helping. He needed to get away from them.

You’ll never escape us.

“I can try.” he said back pathetically weak. He turned another corner as the voice laughed harshly and loudly, the fake sound ringing in his ears. It made his head hurt, and he felt like he was in a tight space with no way out. Made his chest constrict with panic. He made a pained noise. No one around him even flinched.

No one cares. No one will ever care about you.

His phone rang, the ringing muffling out all the other noises that were rising a crachendo around him and he picked it without a second thought, not even looking at the number. With the flimsy, not at all thought out plan that he would just piss off the telemarketer on the other end to escape the voices.

That was his first mistake.

What kind of telemarketer didn’t use an automatic messaging system? It was probably people like Peter who urged them to even use the system. No one wanted to deal with other people’s bullshit. Peter could testify to that.

“Kid?” he heard someone say as the bad voice shut up. He still could feel the smug presence as his horror raised making him stop in the middle of the sidewalk. He knew that voice. The voice he was trying to avoid. But then he realized.

His voice shut up!

“Ha, I told you I could escape.” he told the voice triumphantly. The voice didn’t answer, though and he didn’t know if it was good or bad as something empty settled into the pit of his stomach. Something daunting and full of dread. It felt achy and uncomfortable.

It’s because you haven’t eaten in three days. The sensible voice said. Well it was nice that it could make an appearance in its busy schedules. Where was it like 4 weeks ago? He could really use the back up. The voice didn’t answer the claims and Peter was satisfied that he’d shut that one up too.

“Kid?” that new voice sounded more concerned, and somehow more concrete. He didn’t want another voice, his stupid mind had enough. He’d get even bigger headaches if there was anymore screaming in his head.

You’re going crazy.

“Oh shut up. Don’t you start too.” he said to the good voice and it promptly shut its mouth more permanently, he didn’t see it but somehow he just knew. “Thankyou.” he said, because he felt bad for it cause it was just trying to help. Peter knew though, the voices were never there to help him. No matter how much good advice they have, it was only to taunt him. Get him to trust them. He wouldn’t allow it.

“Who are you talking to?” the voice on the phone said and it finally registered that it wasn’t a voice in his head, it was a person. In like real life. A not dead person. A person who instilled so much unnecessary guilt inside him. A person that was the root reason the voices were talking so much lately. A person of whom he had trying to not see for the next two weeks at least.

He wasn’t prepared for this. Not yet. He was not in the right mind to have any sort of conversation with actual people right now.

“Wrong number.” he said quickly and wanted to hang up the phone, the call didn’t end. He pressed the end call button a bunch more times, each tap getting more and more aggressive and frantic -desperate, but that made sense because he was very desperate right now- but it didn’t seem to end.

“Nice try kid, but I hacked into your phone. This conversation ends when I want it to.” Stark said triumphantly, he could almost hear the smug smirk that was definitely on the man's face. Peter groaned. He didn’t want to talk to people right now, he just wanted to dissociate from real life and take the rain of insults his voices were showering him in (not the best solution or coping mechanism for guilt, but it’s the only one he’s got).

“Nothing is stopping me from yeeting this thing off a building.” he said in a matter of fact but also threatening way- but not the kind of threat that was intimidating, it was like the kind of threat that made him sound scared. Stark made a confused noise, and he heard giggling in the background. He didn’t know why anyone was laughing, he was fucking serious. He would yet this piece of shit - that was basically from the Stone Age- as far as he could and let him just remind them that he had super strength so it would go pretty far.

“You’re so old.” he heard a voice, sounded like Keener’s, and the giggling must be Shuri. Why were they there? They could hear this call. Keener was still mad at him last he checked. But then again he did check three weeks ago. Maybe it blew over for him. That shouldn’t matter because he betrayed Peter, so Peter didn’t trust him (not that he ever trusted Keener in the first place but… yeah). Conditional statements and what not.

“You uncultured swine. You have a child of the Zth generation, you hath not know his tongue? Disgraceful.” Peter said trying to avert this conversation from the one he knew was going to happen, the giggling got louder. At least he could still make people laugh. Even if it probably was at him and not with him. He was good at conversation divergence, it’s why he’s never talked about his problems out loud before. Sure little things build up and then push him over the edge, but it just takes too much time to explain from the beginning. These problems that were arising now were because of the problems that had planted their seeds in his past and he didn’t know how to explain that. He didn’t think he wanted to either.

You know they’re gonna ask you to do something, and you’re gonna say yes. Cause, you know, you’re a dumbass. You aren’t in the mindset to do that. You gotta chuck this thing. It’s shit anyway.

He wasn’t sure which voice said it, but it was getting annoying. Probably the bad one because of the wording and the suggestion of chucking something he couldn’t afford to break. He’d have to take a merc job to pay for the phone and not only was he not in the right mind set to kill someone with 100 percent control over his actions, he also had to talk to the client he was killing for. He couldn’t work at the bar because again, he was trying to avoid social interaction and SHIELD was obviously out of the question. He only had the little money he did save up and that was mostly for rent on the cheap studio apartment under Cable’s name and food, which he hadn’t eaten at all (he’d have to go to work soon, because money was dwindling, but he didn’t think about that). So yeah, no extra expense. “Okay A) we can't afford that. Second of all, do not interrupt me you inept asshole. I’m trying to have a civil, unwanted or warranted conversation. I don’t know which one you fucking are but I swear to god, I will find the little space in hell that you hide in and incinerate it.” He growled the threat.

“...What?” The real person voice said. He sounded a bit confused and concerned. Peter paid no mind to it as the voices responded.

Hell’s already on fire.

“Do not tell me logic! Not when your entire existence isn’t even remotely logical! You shouldn’t be real .” Peter said back. The voices weren’t real. But at times like these (when Peter was acting like a lunatic) they felt more reel than really real things. “And if Hell’s on fire then I’ll fucking freeze it .”