I Found Love (Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be)

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/52760383.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The
Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Clint
Barton & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Peter Parker &
Steve Rogers, Kate Bishop/Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop,
Harley Keener & Tony Stark
Characters: Peter Parker, Harley Keener, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel),
Clint Barton, Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales, Kate Bishop, Steve Rogers,
Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel)
Additional Tags: Canon Compliant with Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Canon
Divergence - Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Tony Stark
Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Natasha Romanov & Tony
Stark Friendship, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Natasha
Romanov Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Calls
Tony Stark "Dad", Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, First Meetings, Rare
Pairings, Work In Progress, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant,
Sort Of, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Good
Parent Tony Stark, Alternate Universe, Harley Keener & Peter Parker are
Siblings, Protective Harley Keener, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Fluff and
Angst, Team as Family, Dead Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Harley Keener
is not Blipped | Dusted, Blipped | Dusted Peter Parker, But also, Peter
Parker is not Blipped | Dusted, Blipped | Dusted Pepper Potts, Angst and
Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Iron Dad, spider mom - Freeform, Precious
Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, Confused Peter Parker, everyone is
confused to be fair, Alternate Reality, Multiverse, Other Additional Tags
to Be Added, main pairing might be changed if this one doesn't work out,
Not Beta Read, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Adopted Child, Tony Stark
Has A Heart, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Uncle Clint Barton
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-01-02 Updated: 2024-02-08 Words: 22,357 Chapters:
7/?
 I Found Love (Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be)
by DEMH_works

Summary

After Peter is snapped, he doesn’t simply cease to exist. Yes, he fades away like everyone
else, but Peter materializes again. In a parallel universe, where he never existed.

Notes

Title is from 'I Found' by Amber Run.

This is a work in progress, updates will be slow, since I am still in the process of writing and
I'm posting as I write.

This idea wouldn't let me go, so I hope you'll find it interesting too.

See the end of the work for more notes

 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

CANON UNIVERSE

“…did we just lose?”

Tony stared at Doctor Strange, as if he’d never seen him before. “Why would you do that?”

“We’re in the endgame now.”

---

The mismatched group of aliens and earthlings stared at the spot Thanos had disappeared in
resigned silence, as they tended to their wounds. Nobody spoke, following Strange’s sinister
proclamation. Not to yell at him, for giving up the stone, nor at Starlord, for losing his cool
and ruining their only shot at victory.

Peter wanted to, but he didn’t think he would get the words out without bursting into
frustrated tears.

The purple asshole was gone. Thanos was gone and he had the Time Stone… they’d messed
it up. There was nothing more for them to do, except pray… and their prayers would go
unheard. Peter knew it and the others did too. They all felt the heavy sense of finality in the
air.

Mr. Stark lay a trembling hand on Peter’s shoulder, squeezing in a stilted attempt at
reassurance. Peter’s Spidey-sense thrummed ominously.

He felt it, the moment it happened. The point of no return, the Snap signing the death warrant
of half the universe.

Mantis felt it too. “Something’s happening.”

Peter’s Spidey-Sense’s ominous thrumming morphed into a wave of blaring warnings, his
anxiety skyrocketing as he helplessly watched the people he’d fought with vanish in clouds
of dust.

Then the physical ache started. First it was an uncomfortable, burning sensation itching
underneath his skin, but then the burn became scalding, the stinging became stabbing and the
stretching became tearing. He felt his atoms being forcibly pulled apart on a nuclear level and
suffered through the process of them absolving into nothingness in a drawn out stretch of
agony. It was excruciating, his body fighting his pending demise at every turn, but losing the
battle.

And all throughout the unbearable pain he couldn’t tune out the increasingly distressing
thoughts that kept on popping up without his permission. The realization that he was truly
fucked this time, that they’d lost, that he’d never see May or Ned or MJ again and that he’d
never graduate or go to college or get a job or marry. That he was dying and that he wasn’t
ready to and that the prospect scared the shit out of him.

But in between the fear and constant anxiety, the harrowing pain and his sorrow at losing his
own life, the inconsolable look on Tony’s face was still the thing that hurt the most.

Grief-stricken didn’t fully embody the devastated, heartbroken and haunted expression on his
mentor’s face. He looked as distressed and frightened as Peter felt. As despairing, guilt-
ridden and pained.

“I’m sorry.” Unwilling to look at his mentor’s tortured eyes any longer, Peter flicked his gaze
up at the red of the Titan sky. It had nothing on the deep blue of Earth’s. Peter wished he
could’ve seen the stars, one last time.

---

DIVERGENT UNIVERSE

Reassembling hurt just as much as falling apart.

Peter came to way before the agonizingly slow process of being pieced back together was
completed. The strange in-between phase between existence and non-existence was by far the
trippiest feeling Peter had ever experienced.

He was conscious, but confused. Aware, but not. There, but not fully. He blinked his phantom
eyes until they – eventually like the rest of his body – restored, his sight appearing blurry at
first but improving rapidly.

The first clear, tangible thought that Peter managed to grasp onto, was the realization that the
red of the Titan sky had gone blue. The second was that Tony wasn’t there.

Peter squinted his eyes against the bright, but also heart achingly familiar sun rays, as he
peered around. He wasn’t at Titan anymore.

His surroundings looked like Earth, but he couldn’t be completely sure. All he knew was that
the place he’d landed had trees and grass, resembling a clearing in some random forest, more
than anything. It was also deserted.
If the snap had brought him here, he shouldn’t be alone. Half the population of the universe
had been snapped out of existence, those weirdos from space and the wizard included. “Mr.
Doctor Strange?” He called out. “Mr. Star-Lord? Alien Lady?” His voice cracked. “...
anyone?”

It was too quiet.

“It appears we are alone, Peter.”

Peter jumped at the sudden voice, but relaxed once he recognized the diligent tones of his
trusted AI. “Karen.” He breathed. “Thank god…” his voice broke once more and Peter had
to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat. “What happened to us, Karen? Where are we?
Where’s Mr. Stark?”

Karen sounded hesitant, as she answered. Unsure, in a way she had never been before. “We
appear to be on Earth.”

“Could you… can you be any more specific?”

“I am having trouble connecting to the internet, but based on analysis of the current weather
and our surroundings, which I have compared to previous footage shot in New York and
surrounding areas, I’ve come to the conclusion that were are likely somewhere on the East
Coast of the United States. Possibly Upstate New York.”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “How? We were… we were in space a second ago.”

“I am unable to answer that question at this time.” Peter had never heard Karen sound so
unnerved. “I am trying to send an alert to Mr. Stark as per protocol, but I am unable to locate
him. It appears that our connection has been broken.”

That was definitely disconcerting. In all his years of being Spider-Man, there was only one
instance in which Peter had been unable to reach Mr. Stark when he needed him. That was
when his suit had been taken and a warehouse had collapsed on top of him.

Peter scrambled upright, getting to his feet unsteadily. He swayed at the spot and had to lean
against a mossy tree trunk to stop himself from collapsing right back to the forest floor.
“Maybe he is still on Titan and out of range.” He offered weakly. “He didn’t get all dusty, so
that’s possible right? That makes sense, right?”

“Until I manage to repair my connection with FRIDAY, I am afraid that I cannot say.”
Answered Karen. “She, however, hasn’t responded to my attempts to reach out.”

“Okay. Okay, it’s alright. We don’t need help, we can figure this out ourselves. We got this.”
Peter knew he was just trying to convince himself at this point. He was also acutely aware
that they didn’t got this whatsoever. “… is there anyone else we can call?” He asked in a
small voice.

“I have tried calling Mr. Hogan and Miss Potts, but my calls keep failing. It appears we are
the ones out of range.”
God, this was so messed up. “Continue trying, Karen. Try texting, perhaps. And try calling
and texting May, as well please. And Ned. We have to be able to get through to someone.”

“Will do, Peter. I will alert you, if I have any success.”

The young hero waited a few more, hopeful minutes in case Karen had a miraculous break-
through, but when she kept silent, he sighed. Seeing as no help was on its way, he’d have to
save himself. Lazing around a random forest, be it on earth or elsewhere, wasn’t helping
anyone. He was Spider-Man for god’s sake, he had to pull himself together. He was lost, not
in some type of mortal danger. Ironically enough, he was probably safer right now, than he’d
been all day.

Peter spun around his axis, before taking a leap of faith, by taking a lucky guess and setting
off in a random direction. He had no clue where he was and which way would lead him
anywhere closer to answers. All around him were trees as far as the eye could reach. Each
course looked equally hopeless, to him.

Swinging in the forest proved much more difficult than in the city, but it was decidedly faster
than walking and the distraction helped keep his head clear from his tumultuous thoughts. At
least, for the first couple of miles while he was still getting the hang of it. Once his moves
started becoming instinctive, as if he were on autopilot, the most insistent of his thoughts
resurfaced.

He had been Dusted. He was supposed to be dead. Mr. Stark had been left all alone on that
alien planet, a profound sense of failure and misplaced guilt for Peter’s not-quite-death his
only company…

Peter barely managed to avoid head-butting an overhanging tree branch and he quickly shook
his head as if to dispel the intruding memory of his mentor’s heartbroken face. He couldn’t
think of any of that right now. He’d deal with the trauma and the inevitable nightmares later.

He had to make his way out of this blasted forest and find out where he was. Then, he’d find
a way home, to Mr. Stark. He’d tell him he was alright and that mournful look on his face
would disappear. Everything would be fine, he just had to take one step at a time.

Peter had been swinging for half an hour, when his enhanced hearing started to pick up
distant but familiar, city sounds. Now, Peter couldn’t determine his location based off his
hearing alone, but he was pretty darn sure this proved he was on his home planet. He swung
on with renewed vigor.

His arms were trembling violently in exertion, by the time he’d finally reached the tree-line
separating the forest from the world beyond. He stumbled as he landed.

Peter’s heart clenched painfully at the sight of the skyline of New York City, in all her former
glory. The seemingly untouched skyscrapers stood proud in the distance, as if there hadn’t
been a hostile alien invasion just a couple of hours before.

It didn’t make any sense. That donut-like spaceship had knocked several buildings down and
Peter had been gone for half a day at most. There was no way that the city had rebuilt already.
New Yorkers were strong and they tended to bounce back no matter what, but this… some
things were just not achievable.

“Karen, you’re seeing what I’m seeing right?”

“I am detecting what appears to be a fully intact New York City.” Karen answered dutifully.

“How… how is that possible? We weren’t gone for that long, were we?”

“I am unable to determine how this phenomenon came to pass. I can, however, hypothesize.
Would you like me to come up with some theoretically possible explanations?”

Peter felt dizzy. Suddenly, getting to Mr. Stark seemed even more urgent than before. “Y-
yeah. Please.”

“Seeing as we were both disengaged for an undetermined amount of time due to our
temporary disintegration, it is possible more time has passed in the world around us as we
previously expected.” Karen said. “Or perhaps we haven’t only teleported to another place,
but also to another time.”

“You’re suggesting we’ve time travelled?”

“It is unlikely. So far, time travel is unprecedented. However, the events of today are
anomalous, so in light of our current circumstances, I would need more evidence to rule this
hypothesis out with certainty.”

“So you’re basically saying everything is possible, seeing as reality as we know it has already
gone to shit.” Summarized Peter dazedly. “That’s reassuring.”

Karen had nothing to say to that.

Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm his erratically beating heart. Okay. Okay, this was
fine. Who was he kidding, it really wasn’t, but he just had to pull himself together for a bit
longer. Now was no time for a meltdown.

“Only one way to find out how screwed we are, I guess.” Now the good news was that
Queens was in sight, which meant that Aunt May was close-by. The bad news, was that there
weren’t any trees, which meant that walking was his only option for now. Peter grimaced in
distaste. “You sure Happy isn’t available to give me a lift?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“I haven’t been able to contact Mr. Hogan.”

“Running it is, then.”

“I must caution you against that course of action, Peter. You are exhibiting signs of
overexertion, dehydration and exhaustion. I strongly advice you take a break.”

“I have to get home somehow Karen. What do you suggest, I take an Uber?” He meant it
sarcastically, but the moment he’d said the words, he saw the merit in them. “Wait, can you
do that?”
 “Usually, I could order you an Uber, yes. Unfortunately, I am still locked out of the internet
due to unknown causes that I as of yet haven’t managed to uncover.”

“Sucks.” Peter pouted. “In that case, no can’t do on the resting thing, Karen. I’ve got to get
home and find out what went down today and what happened to Mr. Stark, May and my
friends.”

“You are still wearing your old suit and clothes underneath this one, Peter. If you dress in
your civilian clothing, you could take public transportation. If we are indeed in a New York
not too divergent from the one we left a few hours ago, there should be a bus stop
approximately 1.4 miles away.”

Peter had to admit that he was quite tired and the bus would sure as hell be faster than
walking all the way to his apartment. Maybe once he’d made it far enough into town to have
buildings to swing from again, he could swing the rest of the way.

“Alright.” Peter backed into the shadows of the forest so he could change without witnesses.
“but I can’t talk to you without my mask, so please give me directions first.”

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for reading my story, it means the world! I'll update as soon as I can, feel free to
leave feedback I'll use it to improve my writing! :)
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning: mentions of suicide, please take care of yourselves.

DIVERGENT UNIVERSE

It was an post-apocalyptic world. The city may have healed its scars physically, but the
mental ones were still running deep in its inhabitants. Peter was lucky to have to wait only a
few minutes for the next bus, but if the schedule hanging on the bus stop had to be believed,
about half of the usual rides had been scrapped indefinitely due to lack of personnel and
demand.

The entire bus shelter was decorated to the brim with missing-posters. It was eerie, the way
the black and white faces smiled up at him frozenly, the question “HAVE YOU SEEN ME?”
flashing in red above their pictures, name and descriptions.

It didn’t get better once he was on the bus. The driver looked as pale as Peter felt, his ghostly
pallor seemingly permanently marred by dark blue crescent circles underneath his vacant
gaze. Peter didn’t dare ask him what had happened. He didn’t think he needed to anyway.

There was only one other person on the bus. A man with dark hair and troubled eyes, whose
smile had a strained edge when he returned Peter’s. Though usually one for small-talk, Peter
let the man be, instead staring at the changed world flashing by outside the window.

The streets were emptier than he remembered them being, even this far outside of the city
center. Malls and houses were boarded up, food stands abandoned and shops painted in
graffiti, while their windows were covered with more missing-posters. Most people they
came across looked burdened, their heads bowed and shoulders hunched, as if they were
carrying an invisible weight.

The closer they got to the city center though, the more the world seemed to come back to life.
Shop tenders may have disappeared, but the remaining people had taken over. Houses may
have been left uninhabited, but new people moved in. The atmosphere was less dejected in
the busier parts of the city, but beneath the chatter and polite smiles lay a well of loss and
grief. The streets were still not as busy as they should have been and everyone was aware of
it.
Peter got off at his usual stop, closest to his home. He felt torn between wanting to rush home
to tell May that he was back and wanting to hold off the confrontation, due to the possibility
that May could be gone, too. He stopped at Delmar’s. Mr. Delmar wasn’t standing behind the
counter. Instead, a girl he’d never personally met before was tending to the customers. Peter
recognized her from the pictures. She was Delmar’s daughter, Amara, if he recalled correctly.

Amara Delmar looked as tired as everyone else Peter had passed so far, but she mustered up a
smile for the lost-looking boy in front of her. “Hi, how can I help you?”

Peter ordered his usual. Somehow, the fact that he had to explain his order instead of being
recognized as a regular, hammered the point of what had really went down, home. Much
more than anything Peter had seen outside. “Your dad.” Peter asked, softly. “Is he…?”

The smile slid of the girl’s face. It was answer enough. “He was Blipped.”

Blipped. Was that the word that the survivors had chosen for those who had disappeared? It
was such a strange word… blipped. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you know him?”

“Yeah, I used to come here a lot. Before…” Peter trailed off. “Listen, this is going to sound
really weird, but how long has it been? Since the…”

Amara blinked in surprise, but she answered without much fuss. “Six months and ten days. It
feels like just yesterday, doesn’t it?”

Six months. Peter had been missing for six entire months. May must’ve been going insane.
And Mr. Stark… they were both in for a heart attack when they discovered he’d survived
somehow. Tony was going to ground him for life for giving him such a scare. “Do you… do
you know if anyone has ever come back before? From the blip?”

The confusion on the girl’s face morphed into sympathy. “No one can come back from the
blip.” She reached out over the counter to catch Peter’s hand. “I’m sorry for whoever you’ve
lost. We’ve all lost someone to the blip. You’re not alone.”

Peter grimaced. He wanted to tell her what had happened to him, but he also didn’t want to
give her false hope. Just because something had gone weird for him, didn’t mean the other
Blip-victims would return. Peter had always been one to get in unique, arguably impossible,
situations. It was his Parker Luck.

God, he needed May to be home. He had to find her and Mr. Stark and let them know he was
back. His aunt must’ve been so lonely and the guilt was probably eating his mentor alive. “If
something were to happen to you, I feel like that’s on me.”

“I… I have to go.” He whispered, tears pricking in his eyes. “Thanks.”

Peter turned and made to leave, but the girl walked around the counter to catch his wrist in
her hand. Then, unexpectedly, she pulled him into a hug. “You’re not alone.” She said.
“don’t… don’t go and do something stupid. Please. Too many good people have given in, the
world can’t lose you too.”

Peter’s stomach churned painfully. She thought he was going to commit suicide. How many
people had done so, that that’s where her mind went? “I am actually on my way to see how
alone I am right now.”

She pulled away. “What do you mean?”

“My parents are… gone. My uncle too. But my aunt lives here. Or at least I hope she still
does.”

Understanding dawned on Delmar’s daughter. “I hope so too. But if she isn’t here… then
come back and tell me. Don’t do anything rash. Promise me.”

“I’m not going to kill myself.” He said, honestly. “Dead or alive, my aunt would never
forgive me.” Then, he gave Delmar’s daughter a last sad smile, before departing. He couldn’t
help but think that keeping his promise would be way easier, if May were to be alive.

The elevator in his building was still out of order like always, so Peter took the stairs. He
came across only a single neighbor as he climbed the stairs, but the woman didn’t have some
big reaction to Peter’s presence. Maybe she didn’t know Peter had been Snapped, too busy
mourning the people closest to her? She certainly looked as weary and depressed as everyone
else.

Nerves had started swirling in Peter’s stomach, when he came to a halt in front of his
apartment. The doormat that he and Ben had bought May for Mother’s day, years ago, wasn’t
there. For some reason, Peter fixated on that, worst case scenarios flitting through his head
without his permission. May could have had a million reasons to replace the doormat. The
thing was old, she might’ve been mourning Peter and hated the reminder… but somehow
Peter could feel that there was more to it than that.

He knocked before he could second-guess himself. The nervous swirling in his stomach was
making him feel sick.

Even having feared, having known the odds, Peter felt as if the world was being swept from
underneath his feet, when an unfamiliar man opened the door. His stomach sinking so low it
might’ve as well dropped out of his ass, Peter opened and closed his mouth to ask for May.
The words got caught somewhere along the way.

At Peter’s silence, the man raised a questioning eye-brow. “Can I help you?”

Peter pressed a hand against his chest, rubbing circles into his skin, as if that could get rid of
the sudden tightness restricting his breathing.

He must’ve looked spooked, because the man standing in the doorway faltered, eyebrows
knitting together in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Who’s there, Hank?” A female voice, that was decidedly not May’s, called from the kitchen.
“Just some kid.” Answered the man, Hank, eyeing Peter’s wheezing form worriedly. “I think
he’s having some sort of attack.”

Peter started rubbing his chest more roughly. It was sure to bruise, but he didn’t care, his head
was spinning and his heart was hurting and May… May was gone. May was gone. First his
parents, then Uncle Ben and now May...

The woman living in his and May’s apartment appeared in the doorway, beside Hank. She
took in Peter’s trembling form for a mere second, before she crouched down in front of the
crying boy, gently wrapping a hand around his upper arm to stop him from twisting away
from her. “Honey, are you alright? Can you take a deep breath in for me, please?”

Peter shook his head, his own eyes wide in panic as he stared into her kind ones. He was
spiraling, he knew that and it was embarrassing, but he couldn’t stop it on his own. Not
without May’s calming voice to ground him. May’s voice, which he would never hear again.

Half the world population was gone, because of his failure. May was gone because he hadn’t
managed to get that stupid glove off. And who knew how many other people he loved were
dead because of his mistakes? Ned, MJ, Happy. What had happened to them? If only he’d
just managed to get that stupid glove off…

“I need you to try, Honey.” Hank’s wife insisted. “I’m going to do it with you, alright? Just
follow my lead.”

He wasn’t good at following orders. Tony had ordered him to get that glove off and he hadn’t
succeeded. He hadn’t managed to live up to the responsibility he’d been given by Tony, as a
newly made Avenger. Avengers defeated the bad guy. Avengers saved the world. Peter had
taken on only one existential threat and he’d gone and messed it up. Mr. Stark was probably
so disappointed…

It hit him like a ton of bricks. God, Mr. Stark! He’d been left all alone on that alien planet,
with no way home. The space-donut they’d arrived in had crashed during the landing, how
could Peter have been so selfish as to forget about that?

“Honey, do as I do. In… and out. Calmly. In…. and out…”

It had been half a year, so he was probably dead, wasn’t he? Tony had probably died alone, in
space, because Peter had died on him. But Peter hadn’t even managed to do that properly, had
he? No, he just had to come back and in instead of being relieved, his entire body was
shaking with dread. He didn’t want to live, if he had to do it alone.

He couldn’t be alone, he couldn’t bear that, but he was. He had no one left. No parents. No
Ben. No May. No Tony. With his luck, Ned and MJ had probably disintegrated too.

“C’mon kid,” coaxed Hank, the nickname pulling Peter from his vicious cycle, head snapping
up. “Work with us here. In…” he inhaled exaggeratedly. “and out.”

Peter took in a small, shuddery breath. Hank’s wife beamed at him, while Hank continued his
slow breathing pattern, until Peter’s hyperventilation ceased.
His head clear, Peter blinked, as he took in his current position. He was sat on the dirty
hallway floor, in between the two strangers inhabiting his apartment. The woman was
basically hugging him, the man was rubbing soothing circles into his back. His cheeks
flamed.

“Feeling better?” Asked Hank softly, taking in Peter’s flushed face.

Peter hurriedly nodded and quickly detangled himself from the two kind people, before
jumping up and helping Hank’s wife up too. “Yeah.” He quickly said, voice just a tiny bit
hoarse. “Yeah, I am so, so sorry about that.”

“No harm no foul.” Hank reassured him, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist. “Are you
sure you’re alright? That was quite some panic attack…”

Peter ducked his head. “Yeah, yeah, it won’t happen again.” He sheepishly massaged the
back his neck, a self-soothing gesture he was prone to when uncomfortable. “Uh, you live
here, right?”

The couple nodded.

May had been dead for a little over six months which was plenty of time to move in, but it
still unnerved Peter that their home had been disposed of just like that, in their absence. Peter
shook the thought away. “I don’t suppose you know what happened to the previous owner? A
woman called May?” A very small and stupid part of him held a sliver of hope that his aunt
had just moved.

“You mean… what was her name again Helen? May …. Peters, Potter…”

“Parker.” Peter filled in.

“That’s right.” Hank said. “May Parker. Never met her of course, but I heard she was a nice
lady. Why do you want to know?”

“She’s my Aunt. She… we lived here.”

Helen and Hank exchanged a meaningful glance. “and you don’t know what happened to
her?”

Peter just shook his head.

Helen’s eyes were filled with pity. “She died, Honey.”

No longer unexpected at this point, but a blow nonetheless. Peter couldn’t stop his voice from
quivering slightly, as he asked. “Do you know what they did to her stuff?”

“I suppose everything was likely distributed according to her will? The apartment was empty
when we got it.” Answered Helen.

Peter couldn’t even mourn the fact that all his things were lost. It seemed inconsequential, in
comparison to the loss of the last of his family. Still, he had to ask. “What about the things
she left to people that were Blipped?”

Hank and Helen shared another silent conversation, that Peter was too tired to try and
understand. “Well, that depends on whom they left their stuff to, I suppose.” Said Hank. “I
sincerely doubt there was some sort of clause taking something like this into account. No one
could predict the Blip after all, especially so far in advance.”

Peter stilled. “What do you mean, so far?”

“Yeah, it must’ve been… God, has it been three years already?”

Helen nodded. “Yes, we moved in in December 2015. The apartment had been empty for a
while, by then. Not a lot of people want to live in a home where someone has taken their own
life.”

Peter choked. “What?!”

Helen’s eyes snapped away from her husband, to focus on Peter. “Oh I am sorry Honey, I am
being very insensitive, this must be hard to hear.”

Peter shook his head, feeling very numb and dazed. “I saw May only six months ago.” A day
ago, from his point of view.

A pregnant pause, then… “Are you sure you’re at the right address?”

“Yeah. I… I lived here. With her. Everything was fine until the Blip, she didn’t… she didn’t
kill herself. She would never do that. She wouldn’t leave me like that.”

Even over the rush in his ears, Peter’s enhanced hearing picked up Helen’s whisper. “I think
he’s in shock, Hank.”

“Or we’re just not talking about the same person.” Grunted the man. “Son, are you confident
you’re at the right address?”

Tears welled in Peter’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Well you’re not, if you’re searching for your aunt that died only a few months ago. The May
Parker that lived in our house didn’t pass in the Blip. She died years ago.”

Peter didn’t quite know what to say to that, except that it simply wasn’t possible. He’d lived
with May these past few years, he’d lived those moments they claimed had never existed.

“Should we call someone?” Helen softly asked her husband, when Peter continued to just
stare ahead blankly, as he struggled to comprehend what the fuck was going on.

“There’s no one to call.” Peter’s response sounded clipped. “Aunt May was all I had left.”

“Who have you been living with these past few years, then?” Inquired Hank.

“May!”
“We should definitely call someone.”

“Maybe our neighbor could clear things up.” Hank offered, when Peter scowled at the
woman. “Louise has been living here for over two decades. She’d remember best what
happened exactly.”

But Peter’s interaction with Louise Williams brought about more questions than answers. It
began, when the old lady Peter had always assisted with carrying the groceries, opened the
door and straight-up didn’t recognize Peter.

Peter’s smile dropped. “Mrs. Williams, it’s me.” He repeated hesitantly, eyes anxiously
scanning the woman’s face for even a flicker of recognition. “Peter Parker. You know, Ben
and May’s nephew?”

The new occupants of Peter’s apartment exchanged knowing glances, when Mrs. Williams
smiled apologetically. “Oh, you are?”

At Peter’s confused nod, she flashed him a kind smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Peter.”

“W-what…?”

“Do you mean to say that you’ve never met before?” Hank asked, over Peter’s shocked
stammering.

Mrs. Williams nodded. “I must admit I am a bit surprised. After Ben’s death, poor May
always said she didn’t have any family left.”

Peter took a hesitant step back, shaking his head in stunned disbelief. This day was getting
ridiculous, he felt like he was going around the bend.

In what felt like a few hours to him, aliens had invaded earth, he’d gone to space and fought a
large purple titan alongside a wizard, his mentor, two good-aliens and a man that had had the
audacity to call Thor 'not-that-good-looking', which was a blatant lie. Then, he’d died and
come back to life, only to discover that he’d somehow teleported to earth and six entire
months had passed.

Now it wasn’t like Peter could look passed all that, even for a superhero that wasn’t a normal
Tuesday, but still somehow the fact that two strangers lived in his apartment, his neighbor
had forgotten about him and they all claimed his aunt had committed suicide in 2015,
overshadowed all of that.

Because these people seemed way too nice to lie about something as important as this, the
seemingly genuine Mrs. Williams had no reason to pretend Peter hadn’t ever existed, and in
no world would May ever leave him behind. Especially, by taking her own life.

Helen put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “C’mon Peter, why don’t you come inside with us and
we’ll talk about this.” She smiled at her neighbor. “Sorry about this Louise.”

“But… but… but that’s not true.” Peter said, desperately, shrugging Helen off. “I’ve lived
here for over a decade. I… you babysat me more than once, Mrs. Williams.”
“You must be confusing me with someone else. I have never seen you before and as far as I
know, May had no family. She even said so, in her suicide note.”

“Are you sure? She really killed herself? Why would she do that?” Peter’s voice cracked
dangerously on the latter question and he balled his fists, fighting to keep his tears down.

“It happened not long after her husband’s death. She didn’t have anything to live for without
him.”

“What about me?” Peter wanted to ask, but he didn’t. It was clear that nobody believed him
when he said he’d lived here. Not his neighbor who was staring at him blankly and not the
new people occupying his apartment. Helen was whispering about troubled youths and Hank
was reaching for his phone. Peter had to get out of here. “Is May buried beside Ben?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I’m very sorry for bothering you.” At that, Peter turned around and left, leaving
three very confused and very worried adults behind.

The cold of the ground crept into Peter’s bones, as he sat huddled in the grass, staring at the
headstones of the two people he’d loved most in the world. Two people he was now forced to
consider might not have known him, like he knew them. Peter didn’t know why or how, but
somehow there wasn’t a trace of him left on this world. As if he’d never existed… what if he
hadn’t?

May’s grave was really there, beside Ben’s in the cemetery. Uncle Ben’s grave had once been
engraved with the words “loving husband, uncle and friend”. Now, neither headstone carried
a hint of Peter’s existence. No, “loving aunt” on May’s weathered headstone and Uncle Ben’s
had somehow changed to only say “loving husband and friend”.

For years Peter had been burdened by the belief that Ben Parker would’ve been alive, if only
he hadn’t been forced to take his stupid nephew in. It appeared that he’d been wrong. Peter
evidently hadn’t been here to endanger Ben, but the date of death on Ben’s headstone was the
same.

“After Ben’s death, she didn’t have anything left to live for.” Was this truly what would’ve
become of May, if Peter hadn’t been in her life? Suddenly he hoped that the May he
remembered, the May of his reality or universe or whatever, had been Snapped. She evidently
couldn’t live without him and he didn’t want her to have to try. Sitting here, staring at May’s
grave, feeling all alone in a world he wasn’t sure was his own… it hurt too much. He didn’t
want May to feel like this.

Peter curled in on himself, knees pulled to his chest as he stared at the two marble headstones
in front of him. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling and he didn’t even try to bite back the
sobs spilling out of him. “You probably don’t even know who I am…” He whispered. “But I
miss you guys.”
He thought of Ben’s ridiculous bedtime stories and the way his eyes had crinkled whenever
he smiled. Thought of his uncle’s favorite songs to sing in the shower, his obnoxious habit to
add too much chili in every dish and the way his hugs had made Peter feel safe. Of the
soccer-shirts he’d always worn despite not even liking the sport, the lasagna-recipe he’d
promised to pass on to Peter when he was a bit older… the way his blood had slickened
Peter’s hands as he pressed down on his gunshot wounds, begging his uncle to stay.

Peter bit his lip, until the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. He tore his gaze away from
Ben’s headstone and instead glanced at May’s. He hadn’t been there for her death, but based
on Mrs. William’s words, he suspected she’d either overdosed, slit her wrists or hung herself.
He didn’t know whether she’d passed in her sleep peacefully, or been violently ill before the
end. If she’d passed out from blood loss which would have spared her from most of the pain
or if she’d watched her own blood spread out over the tiles of the bathroom floor. He didn’t
know if she’d broken her neck quickly, or whether she’d suffered, suffocating slowly.

A sick part of him wished he’d seen it, wished he’d been by her side like he’d been there for
Ben. Partly so she wouldn’t have been alone, but mainly, so he wouldn’t have to sit here,
guessing, his mind conjuring up images that were likely more grotesque and horrifying than
the actual incident.

He didn’t know the circumstances surrounding her death, so he focused on the things he did
know about her, in life. He thought of May’s bell-like laugh and the way her eyes used to
glitter in mischievous mirth whenever she teased him. The way they didn’t have a garden or
balcony, but she still insisted on growing her own plants in the windowsills. He thought of
the mess she’d make of the living room while searching for her keys, of her inherent kindness
to people in need and the way she used to be there for him whenever he needed her.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel her hands playing with his hair and for a single
beat, Peter smelled her, in the wind. Not her perfume, or the fruity shampoo she used, but that
unique, indescribable scent of home, that was innately her.

The scent was gone before he’d even properly registered it, but the experience still rendered
him speechless, as silent tears continued to stream down his pale face. He sat there quietly,
mourning the second set of parents he’d lost, until the sun had gone down and he was
shivering from the biting wind, not unusually cold for an evening in early December, but
freezing all the same. He tried to stop himself from imagining how cold his aunt and uncle
must’ve been, in their stuffy coffins, underground.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut tightly and shook his head as if to dispel the paralyzing
memories that had been suffocating him in his moment of melancholy reminiscence. He had
to do something. Stand up and leave. To go where, he didn’t know, it wasn’t like he had
anywhere to go, but he couldn’t stay here. It would drive him mad.

So, Peter did the only thing he’d ever tried to do to deal with his grief. The only thing that
ever gave him purpose and direction, whenever he felt lost or lonely or broken. The only
escape he had ever had, when he didn’t want to go home, or in this case, didn’t have a home
to go to.

He went out as Spider-Man, to try and save others from his own pain.
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

We’re finally meeting the Avengers! Yay! Thanks for sticking with me these last two
chapters.

This is a relatively short one, arguably mainly a filler chapter to further the plot, but I
just wanted Peter to have some moderately lighthearted interaction with the New
Yorkers from this universe and I was very excited to introduce the Avengers so here it
is!

Peter might’ve, possibly, forgotten that this world had never seen Spider-Man before. While
swinging around town, he could see Queens’ residents gape up at him more than ever before,
pointing at him and gasping in shock and wonder. A little boy standing next to a hotdog stand
whooped when Peter did a flip in mid-air, making the older people next to him laugh. For a
moment, the warm sound chased away the panic and sadness that had been swamping Peter’s
heart ever since his arrival in this new, lonely world.

“Do that again!” Cheered the boy.

Peter landed on a rooftop and flipped off the perch, landing smoothly in front of his first fan.
He waved, plastering a smile on his face despite the mask hiding it. “Hi, there.”

The boy looked at Peter with wonder in his eyes. It reminded Peter of himself, when he was
the boy’s age, only Peter had been looking up at Iron Man. The idea warmed and saddened
him in equal measure. “How do you do that?” The boy exclaimed, giddily. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Spider-Man.” Peter introduced himself, holding out a gloved hand for the
boy to shake. “What’s your name?”

“Hayden. Are you a superhero?”

Peter shook his head. A couple of days ago, he would’ve said yes, but now Peter knew better.
The Avengers were superheroes. Peter… he was just a sort of neighborhood volunteer,
equally heroic as the volunteers that worked at animal shelters, or with the homeless. No,
Peter couldn’t call himself a hero and he’d done wrong trying to be one, when a real
superhero like Mr. Stark had told him he wasn’t ready.

“Well… I do have superpowers, so I suppose I can become one, once I’ve proven myself. For
now, I’m thinking of myself more as a vigilante.”

Hayden’s nose scrunched up as he frowned in confusion. “Vigi-what?”

“Vigilante.” A man from the crowd that had formed around the pair, told the boy. “It means
someone who catches bad guys, but doesn’t work for the police.”

Miles nodded seriously at that, before turning back to Peter. “If you catch bad guys, why
didn’t you catch Thanos? Why didn’t you save my mommy?”

A girl in the surrounding crowd winced. “Hey, that’s not nice to ask. What happened to the
Blipped is not Spider-Man’s fault.”

“Nah, the kid’s got a point.” Someone from the back denied quickly. “Where were you when
Thanos attacked us?”

A faceless voice from the other side of the circle jumped in to defend Peter. “You’re being a
hypocrite! Where were you-“

“No, it’s alright.” Peter interrupted quickly, holding up his hands in the universal sign of
surrender, gesturing for everyone to calm down. He turned to the little boy and crouched
down so they were on eye-level. “I should’ve saved your Mom.” Peter said softly. “But I was
acting like a stupid kid, failing the responsibilities that come with powers like mine.”

Peter sighed and shook his head, before looking up at the people gathered around him. “But
I’ve learned from that, alright? And I’ve realized that it’s time for me to step up. Time for me
to grow up. We all need to look out for each other. We’re all this world has left and..” Peter
faltered to stop the tears that burned in his eyes, as he thought of May. “and I can’t bear to
watch anyone else die.”

His proclamation was met with a solemn silence, which was abruptly broken by the applause
of an elderly man. “Well said, son.” He said, voice laced with approval. “I, for one, am happy
to have you protecting our community. Welcome to New York.”

It wasn’t home and Peter doubted that it ever would feel like it was, but for the first time
since waking up in this other reality or universe or whatever this shit show was supposed to
be, Peter felt like even a small part of him belonged here. He grinned through his mask.
“Thank you, Sir.”

Peter was soon reminded of the fact that he truthfully did not belong in this strange, similar
but divergent world. Peter Parker hadn’t ever existed here and he wasn’t supposed to exist
now. Peter was quickly confronted with that harsh truth, when he got in a bit of a better state
of mind and started to think of a basic plan of survival.

As he sat on a random rooftop, talking things through with Karen, it dawned on him that he
basically had no options. All his connections were gone, so he had no people he could turn to
for help. He had no money for basic necessities and he was a minor without a guardian, so if
that was discovered he’d probably end up in foster care, which was about the last thing he
needed.
Worst of all: he didn’t have an identity. No nationality, medical file, school records,
identification… no birth certificate. So, despite being born in a New York City, in this New
York he was basically as illegitimate as an illegal immigrant. Only difference being that Peter
was doubly screwed, because not only was he an unauthorized person in the United States, he
was a refugee from another universe entirely, which essentially meant that he was allowed to
stay exactly nowhere on this earth legally. In other words… he was fucked.

Meanwhile at the Avengers Compound, Natasha was staring at her computer screen, her
raised brows giving away her surprise at whatever she was looking at. “Clint, Tony,” Natasha
called. “Have you seen this?”

Tony wandered over as he sipped his coffee, peering over Natasha’s shoulder. Clint leaned
over to look from where he was sitting beside Natasha.

“What the fuck has the world come to?” Tony muttered, looking at the YouTube footage of a
Spidery themed superhero swinging around New York on what looked like… actual
spiderwebs?

Clint whistled as the Spider guy flipped off a building and landed on his feet gracefully
before sweeping the feet from underneath a robber, flooring the criminal. “Damn. He’s going
to put you out of business, Widow.”

“Who’s that?” Asked a younger voice from behind Tony. Tony turned to face his curious
ward, Harley Keener.

Harley’s mom and sister had vanished after the Snap, alongside Pepper, Rhodey, Sam, Bucky,
Wanda, Yelena, Clint’s family and many other people. There hadn’t been any other place for
Harley to go, so Tony was responsible for Harley now.

“Avengers business that I don’t want you mixed up in.” He reached over and squeezed
Harley’s shoulder gently. “No one you need to worry about, Scooter.” He reassured, keeping
his tone purposefully upbeat and teasing, using the nickname because he knew it would piss
Harley off enough to distract him from the spider-themed hero on the screen.

Harley glared at the nickname. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Success. Tony smiled. “You aren’t a real friend of mine, if you don’t have a nickname, Scoot.
Would you rather I’d return to calling you Potato Boy?”

“Honestly? I think so. Potato Boy is bad, but at least there’s a story behind that one-”

Tony lead Harley away from the computer and toward the kitchen where Steve was making
lunch, as Harley continued to bash Tony’s choice of nickname. He looked over his shoulder
at Clint and Nat, mouthing: “Keep an eye on at that.”
Natasha saluted him, already typing away on her laptop to do whatever spies do to track
down people. Tony never bothered to learn. “There is a story behind Scooter too,” Tony tells
Harley. “You know you’re named after a motorcycle, yeah? But you’re still little, so for now
you’re a scooter. No? Not a fan? I can think of some other motorcycle related nicknames if
you want.” He ignored Harley’s protests as he started to list a couple he could come up with
on the top of his head. “How about, Turbo? Tank? Zoomer? Speedy? Flash? Grease
Monkey?”

“Steve!” Groaned Harley. “For the love of everything holy, please make him stop!”

A few evenings later, Tony came across another Spider-Man video online while hanging out
in the common room. It was different from the first one, in which Spider-Man had been
fighting. This was just a sighting of Spider-Man sitting quietly on a roof, staring out over the
city. The guy didn’t look dangerous like this, but it still jogged his memory, reminding him of
the potential threat Nat was supposed to update him on. “Hey Nat? Any info on the other
Spider-themed individual in town?”

Steve put down his book, looking confused but interested. “Spider-themed individual?”

“No pattern to his behavior.” Natasha reported grimly, looking frustrated at her own failure to
get anything substantial. “Seems to sleep everywhere and nowhere, goes out on patrol most
days and all nights and doesn’t seem to have a life outside of vigilantism. He’s also
impossible to follow around, it’s like he senses it when he’s watched.”

Tony frowns, this wasn’t the news he’d been hoping for. “Is he dangerous?”

“Deadly.” Natasha reported, very seriously. “He might not act like a threat, but his powers are
and behavior can change. I don’t feel comfortable not knowing who he is, but simultaneously
I am no closer to his name.”

“Have you used Friday?”

“Yes, but it’s as if this guy was born as Spider-Man, no civilian-identity to speak of. Like he’s
some sort of ghost that popped into existence one day to the other, with no other objective
than to help people.”

“The latter doesn’t seem so bad.” Harley pointed out, from the couch he’d been lounging on,
carefully appearing as if he was napping instead of listening in on Avenger business. “The
world kinda needs some new heroes now, after…” he trailed off awkwardly, not wanting to
mention the remaining Avengers’ lost friends.

“Yes, well.” Tony cleared his throat. “New heroes we might need, but the last thing we want
is another villain.”

“Let alone one that can manage to evade Natasha.” Steve added, looking troubled.
“He isn’t actually doing anything wrong except for not allowing Nat to stalk him like a
creep.” Harley pointed out, a bit indignant on this mystery guy’s behalf. “I wouldn’t allow
Nat to stalk and analyze me at every turn, either, if I was capable of avoiding it. Spider-Man
is not doing anything suspicious. Why bother someone who is picking up the slack of the lost
heroes we all so desperately need?”

“Fate doesn’t have a great track record with providing what I need, I often have to invent that
myself. I don’t see why this would be any different, so I’m not risking it.” Tony answered
sternly, effectively shutting down any more protests.

“So what’s the plan?” Clint, who’d been listening thoughtfully so far, asked.

“We have to talk to him and convince him to give up his civilian identity.” Steve said, after a
moment of consideration. “If he won’t cooperate, we’ll have to arrest him and take off his
mask ourselves.”

“Are we sure that’s wise?” Harley frowned, having given up all pretense of non-involvement.
“Seems like a good way to piss this guy off and create a villainy problem.”

“Personally, I’d rather have an enemy I know, then an ally I can’t trust.” Natasha put forth.

“That’s some a-class bullshit.” Harley deadpanned. “You’d rather face Thanos again then
team up with… I don’t know, someone like DareDevil or Deadpool?”

Natasha paled at the mention of Thanos. Steve winced, Tony cast his eyes down and Clint
glared at the teenager that reminded them of their failure earlier that year. The failure that had
resulted in the loss of not only Harley’s family, but Clint’s, Natasha’s, Steve’s and Tony’s as
well. Harley glared stubbornly back.

“For all we know, Spider-Man is an ally of Thanos.” Clint pointed out. “We just can’t know
and we simply can’t afford to trust everyone that claims to be good.” Harley opened his
mouth to argue, but Clint waved him away. “You’re a kid, I don’t expect you to understand.”

Harley’s glower intensified in heat, but he didn’t try to speak up again.

“That’s decided, then.” Tony broke the silence. “Next time our Spidery friend is out there,
we’ll have a little chat.”

Harley shook his head, stood up angrily and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut
with enough force to make the windows rattle.

“Ugh, teens.” Clint muttered into the tense silence Harley left behind.

“I am the one that is going to have to talk to him, aren’t I?” Tony asked uncomfortably.
Natasha and Steve shared an exasperated look behind Clint and Tony’s backs.
 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

Not too much dialogue at the beginning of the chapter I’m afraid, but that’s what
happens when you’re all alone in the world I guess.

Also, please bear with me on the hacking stuff lol, it is really difficult to write a tech-
savvy character when I’m not a computer whiz myself at all.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Everything was a mess after the Snap, even six months after the world stopping disaster. In
any other situation, Peter would have been devastated to see it, but right now it was his
saving grace.

In an unbroken world, Peter would have starved or frozen to death without a roof over his
head, warm enough clothes and money to buy sufficient food.

In the fractured world that this reality’s Thanos had left behind, there were plenty of
abandoned buildings and apartments – especially in the outskirts of town – whose owners had
either died or moved closer to city center due to the living spaces that had suddenly become
available there after the Snap.

Left little choice, Peter survived in this foreign version of New York by breaking into and
sleeping in apartments that weren’t inhabited anymore and – if he was particularly lucky –
hadn’t been emptied out yet. It was not a long lasting solution, all apartments would be
cleared out at some point after all, but it was enough to survive this winter. It would buy him
some time to figure things out.

Time, was all Peter needed. No matter how hopeless his situation seemed, he wasn’t one to
give up. Long shelf life food and money left in Snapped people’s houses, would keep him up
and running until he could stand on his own legs, without needing to steal from dead people.

Peter didn’t feel good about wearing clothes he’d found in strangers’ closets, and using
money and eating food that he stole, but unfortunately, Peter’s entire existence was illegal in
this universe, so in order to become a legitimate, contributing member of society, Peter would
have to do some illegal things. Not because he enjoyed being morally ambiguous, but
because he had no other options. If these past days had taught him anything, it was that
sometimes you needed to park your morals and just get shit done.

If anyone had told him at the beginning of the year that he would turn to crime for survival,
he would not have believed them. Peter was embarrassed to admit that he would have been
offended. Now, he understood that sometimes you simply don’t have the luxury to avoid
doing something just because it isn’t… honorable or law-abiding. Peter wasn't sure if he
could ever look at the criminals he fought the same way again, now that he’d been just as
desperate as some of them.

“I’m not proud of this, but at least I’ll go back to being good as soon as I’ve managed to
become a an actual existing person.” Peter mumbled to himself, as he logged onto some
random person’s account at the public library, having swiped a library pass from some poor
girl that he’d ‘accidentally’ ran into while entering the building.

Peter looked around as subtly as possible from the shady corner he’d chosen to sit. He’d
rather not anyone witness what he was doing right now, it was definitely illegal and Peter
wasn’t sure what he’d do if someone caught him. He had fallen further than he had ever
feared, but he was nowhere near so low to consider disposing of anyone just because they
knew something they shouldn’t. Peter didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if he ever
got to that point.

With a sigh, Peter turned back to the shitty library computer. Peter wasn’t as good a hacker as
Ned, but he was capable enough. It was mostly his moral compass – which loudly voiced it’s
disapproval in a voice that sounded suspiciously like May’s – that got in his way. Still, if he
wanted to survive in the long run, this was a necessary evil. Peter knew that Mr. Stark would
agree, but he hoped May would understand as well.

Peter first hacked into several government databases. Instead of accessing information like
most other hackers would probably do, he added his own. Within the hour, Peter Parker was
officially born and for practical purposes his parents were reborn as well, under different
names. It wasn't very convincing, certainly not legit enough to fool agencies like S.H.I.E.L.D.
or people like Tony Stark if they were to pay attention, but as long as Peter kept a low-profile
it should hold up well enough.

Next, Peter hacked into Midtowns files, creating school records for himself, sticking as close
to his actual grades in each year as he could, having to recall everything by heart. Peter
couldn’t bite back a weary smile as he exited Midtown’s files, feeling accomplished. After
winter break, he’d be able to return to school. His smile faded though, as he realized what
was next on his to-do-list.

To pay for Midtown’s tuition now that he’d lost his scholarship, Peter hacked the local bank,
adding a bank account, before with a mental apology to May, hacking into several bank
accounts of wealthy clients and stealing small amounts of money.

Peter had already talked about this with Karen. Apart from the fact that stealing was wrong,
this plan was alright as far as stealing goes. Rich people earn so much money at a high speed
that the owners of the accounts likely wouldn’t even notice the difference, meaning that his
targets wouldn’t suffer much because of his actions and, more importantly according to
Karen, he probably wouldn’t get caught.

Finally, Peter hacked into the library’s security system, erasing today’s footage and turning
the cameras off so he could make his escape unseen.

Done, Peter logged out, wiping the pass from his fingerprints with his hoodie, before
dropping it near the entrance of the building. It would probably be found and stored in the
lost-and-found office. The girl he’d borrowed it from would be able to get it back. It was a
small consolation, but it made Peter feel better.

This universe’s winter cold was intense, a biting wind whipping Peter in the face as soon as
the automatic sliding doors of Queens’ public library opened to reveal a snow-covered
sidewalk and a very slippery looking street. This harsh winter would’ve been detrimental for
Peter, if it wasn’t for the abandoned buildings he’d managed to shelter in. Snow had started
falling in heaps the day before yesterday and the temperatures had plummeted to a firm 28
degrees Fahrenheit.

Head ducked into his stolen – borrowed, Peter corrected mentally – winter coat, Peter made
his way to the apartment he'd stored his stuff in today. Climbing up buildings was difficult in
winter time, he couldn’t use his stickiness in the snow, but luckily Peter had found an empty
apartment on the second floor, easily accessible via the dumpster in the back alley, which he
had managed to slide under the apartment’s window to use as a stepping stone.

Peter crawled through the broken bathroom window, mindful of the protruding glass shards
as he did so. Today's apartment was quite nice. Based on the photos hanging in the living
room, a father and three sons once lived here. One of the son’s rooms had been partly cleared
out, so Peter assumed it’s owner had survived the Dusting and moved out. He wondered
where he’d gone. Was he with other surviving relatives or family friends, or was he perhaps
in the foster system now?

Peter shrugged off the winter coat he’d found on the coatrack, leaving him in the blue hoodie
he’d taken from the older boy’s bedroom, before walking over to the kitchen to see what kind
of food might still be good enough to consume. The refrigerator was filled with spoiled food.
Peter made a face and quickly closed the fridge back up. If he never had to see or smell six-
month-old food again, he would be the happiest person on earth.

The six-month-old loaf of bread that was laid out on the kitchen counter was such a gross
sight that Peter didn’t even dare to touch it to throw it out. Sure, he hadn’t gotten sick since
the spider bite, but he believed that a mold that bad would affect even him.

He found some edible stuff in the cupboards, though. Peter grabbed the unopened packs of
cereal, an onion that didn’t look too bad for its age, some dried pasta and all the canned foods
this family had had, including canned fruits, vegetables, and even certain meats. All in all, he
was more than satisfied. He was ecstatic. Not all homes he’d visited had been so well-
stocked.

Peter cooked some of the pasta and ate the onion, despite hating the taste. He put all the
remaining foods with his other supplies in the backpack he had taken from someone’s living
room on the first night. Energy renewed by the meal, Peter took a power nap on the couch
before putting on his suit and going out on patrol for the evening.

If Peter had known that he wouldn’t return here, he would’ve opened one of the cans with
fruit instead of forcing himself to swallow that onion. Peter couldn’t have predicted the
events the evening had in store for him though…
“I’ve got eyes on Spidey.” Clint reported. He, Steve and Natasha had gone out to New York
City as soon as the chatter of Spider-Man sightings started on social media. Tony stayed at
the compound, monitoring clues online, promising to come out once they actually found their
target, since he could fly and make it there quickly anyway.

“Me too. He is on the move.” Natasha said from the roof she was standing on. “He’s in
Queens, Tony.”

“What is he even doing, going out on Christmas Eve?” Tony asked, sounding a little
annoyed.

Natasha peered down at Spider-Man as he lashed out at a bulky looking man. Behind Spider-
Man, frozen in fear, stood a woman. “I think beating up a would-be rapist.”

“Oh yeah, you should definitely arrest him for that, what a terrible crime.” Harley’s tinny
voice said sarcastically in her ear. He sounded faraway, his words probably picked up from
the background on Tony’s end, since he was with Harley in the Compound.

“I’m on my way.” Tony said, voice much clearer than Harley’s. “Don’t engage until I’m
there.”

“We’ll keep our eyes on him, but we won’t engage unless it’s necessary.” Steve told Tony as
he stared at the masked hero webbing the man he’d been fighting to the wall. “He’s finishing
up though, so we won’t have a choice but to announce our presence if he’s going to leave.”

Natasha tilted her head curiously, as she saw Spider-Man turn to the young woman he’d
saved. From her position she couldn’t hear what was said, but based on the woman’s body
language it was something kind and reassuring.

“He’s leaving.” Steve said, while Clint swore as Spider-Man and the girl stared leaving the
alley together. “We can’t corner him when the girl’s there, can we? What if he takes her
hostage?”

“He just saved her life.” Natasha pointed out, keeping her eyes on Spider-Man and the girl as
they walked and chatted. “I doubt he’d lay a hand on her.”

“Don’t engage, I’m nearly there.” Tony repeated, before telling Friday to increase his suit's
speed.

“We’ll have to follow them.” Natasha decided. “Just don’t get too close. When he isn’t
already in combat, he always seems to know when somebody is watching him.”

“Thank you, again.” The girl – she’d introduced herself as Isabel – said. “For saving me, but
also for walking me home.”

“It’s no problem.” Peter said sincerely, smiling kindly even though his mask hid it. “I’m glad
I could help. Stay safe, yeah?”
“You too. Merry Christmas.”

Peter watched to make sure the girl entered her home safely, before turning around and
making his way back to the alley. Usually he’d just let Karen call the police and be done with
it, but he didn’t feel comfortable leaving the offender waiting in the cold like this. Just
because he was a bad guy didn’t mean that Peter wanted to be responsible for him catching
pneumonia or worse.

A warning sign. Peter faltered mid-step, feeling unnerved all of a sudden. His Spidey-sense
thrummed. Peter turned, eyes widening in surprised disbelief. There, on the sidewalk, stood
Black Widow and Captain America. His Spidey-sense thrummed once more and when Peter’s
head snapped over to the other side of the street, he saw Hawkeye and… o my god, that was
an alternate version of Mr. Stark, in his Iron Man suit.

Steve Rogers approached Peter, hands waving around in his soothing gesture. “Don’t run,
Spider-Man, we just want to talk.”

Peter tensed a little at Steve’s voice and words. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t trust the
Avengers present at all. In his reality, Mr. Stark hadn’t worked with Steve Rogers in years
and Natasha, Clint and Steve were all fugitives on the run.

The fact that this Tony Stark was working with the people that had betrayed him proved that
he couldn’t assume that his Tony Stark and this Tony Stark were one and the same. He trusted
his Mr. Stark to have his back, he really did, but that didn’t mean that he could trust this one
too. No matter how much they looked alike, they weren’t necessarily the same people and for
all Peter knew, they hadn’t lead identical lives.

Steve came to a stop next to Peter, extending his hand. “I’m Captain America, Steve Rogers.
This is Natasha, Black Widow.” He nodded to Natasha Romanov, who was standing two
steps behind him looking at Peter in a way that made him feel like she could read his every
thought.

Hesitantly Peter shook the offered hand. “Spider-Man.” He said, warily. If this had happened
to him when he first started out in his own universe, he would’ve been ecstatic to meet these
superheroes, but under current circumstances it only made him feel nervous. He had never
been visited by the Avengers in his own universe until Mr. Stark needed him. He’d just
somewhat recovered from a losing battle with Thanos. Peter didn't think he could handle
facing another Avengers level threat so soon.

Seeing that their target wasn’t trying to make a quick escape, Clint Barton and Tony Stark
came over too, the four Avengers crowding around Peter, who felt increasingly
uncomfortable at the way they were cornering him against the wall.

“Iron Man, Hawkeye.” Steve introduced this universe’s Tony and Clint.

Peter looked over at them, nodding in greeting. “Hi.” He couldn’t help the way his eyes
lingered on Tony’s face… This man and his mentor looked pretty damn alike. Yet, this
version didn’t seem to regard Peter with anything but skepticism and distrust in his eyes.
Peter was used to exasperated fondness, not… this.
“You’ve been going out a lot lately, fighting crime.” Clint spoke up, causing Peter to tear his
eyes away from Tony’s face so he could look at the archer. “You weren’t going out before the
Blip. Why?”

Because I wasn’t here before the Blip. “I am here now and I’m just trying to help people.”
Why did Hawkeye sound so… accusatory? Not exactly the way to approach a potential ally
against some Avengers level threat… Peter’s blood ran cold. Unless they think I am the
Avengers level threat.

“While we appreciate the extra help in protecting the city, we need to know if we can trust
you.” Tony said, confirming Peter’s suspicions. “So you need to tell us your name.”

Peter stiffened, heart sinking in dread. Shit. Someone like Tony looking into his admittedly
amateurishly created fake-identity was really the last thing Peter needed right now. “That’s a
secret.” He protested, chuckling nervously. “That’s kind of the point of a secret identity.”
Peter was praying that that would be enough to satisfy the increasingly stern Avengers, but
knew that realistically it definitely wasn’t.

“Why do you want to remain anonymous? Are you afraid of being held accountable for your
actions?” Asked Steve.

Peter thought it was rather ironic that the person that hadn’t wanted to sign the Sokovia
Accords, was implying Peter was the one scared of the consequences of his own actions.
“No. I’m afraid that my identity will leak and mess up my life.” Not that he had a life that
could be messed up right now, but he would have one, soon. He was working on it.

“We’re really incredibly discrete.” Natasha assured him, softening a little at the vigilante’s
valid fear. “All we need is your name so we can make sure you’re clean and that you won’t
harm the city. After that we won’t bother you again.”

“You have our word.” Steve said earnestly, nodding along.

Peter bit his lip. He wanted to reassure the Avengers of his good intentions, he did, but he
couldn’t. If they’d find out that he faked his identity, they were bound to distrust him even
more than they did now.

It wasn’t like he could tell them what had happened to him. Who in their right mind would
believe him, if he claimed he was actually a U.S. citizen named Peter Parker, but from
another universe? Peter hadn’t even believed in the multiverse before this all happened to
him and he doubted that the Avengers would accept it if he told them he’d accidentally
stranded in their reality.

“C’mon, Spider-Man,” sighed Tony, exasperated. “It is Christmas Eve and I think we’ve both
got better things to do and different people we want to spent it with. Just tell us your name
and be done with it.”

“Unless you have something to hide?” Natasha added, narrowing her eyes.
He shifted uneasily under Black Widow’s piercing gaze, wishing his insides would settle
back into their proper place. “Listen, guys, we’re all on the same side here, yeah?” He
implored a little desperately. “There’s no need for this hostility.”

“Tell. Us. Your. Name.”

Peter’s chest was starting to feel a little tight with anxiety. He really, really didn’t want to tell
the Avengers his name, but he also sincerely doubted they’d let him go without getting an
answer. The idea of escaping or fighting his way out of this was ludicrous. The last time Peter
had engaged an Avenger in combat, namely Captain America, he'd... not gotten hurt, but
basically lost anyway. There was no way he could compete with four Avengers, none of
whom he wanted to seriously hurt.

“Listen,” Peter said, voice a little higher than usual, heart hammering uncomfortably loud in
his ears. “I respect you guys, I really do, but that is not happening. Okay?”

Tony raised his hand and squeezed the nose of his bridge, the picture of exasperation. “No,
not okay!” He exclaimed, sounding incredibly fed up with this entire conversation. “We’re
not asking, Bughead.”

“I don’t want to hurt any of you guys.” Peter said, pressing his fingertips against the wall
behind him, hoping beyond hope that the wall wouldn’t be too snowy for him to rely on his
stickiness to make his escape.

“Hurt us?” Clint repeated, sounding torn between incredulity and amusement.

Peter tugged experimentally, his hand remained stuck to the wall. The smooth stone felt cool
against his palm. “I don’t want any trouble, okay? I just want to live my life and help a few
people along the way.”

Clearly having lost his patience, Clint stepped forward, making a grabbing motion in the
direction of Peter’s mask. Instincts blaring out a warning, Peter jumped, kicked Clint in the
chest – using minimal force – and crawled up the wall, out of Clint’s reach.

“What the fuck?” Tony stared at the person sticking to the wall, stunned. That sure as hell
hadn’t been in any of the videos!

Steve gaped up at the vigilante, who was casually defying gravity by climbing up a vertical
wall as if the lack of something to hold onto was merely a minor inconvenience. After
everything he’d been through he didn’t know why this development still managed to catch
him off-guard.

Natasha crouched down next to Clint, who’d fallen over. She looked away from the dazed
Clint to snap: “He’s getting away!” Her voice startled her teammates back into action.

Indeed, Spider-Man had used their bewilderment to crawl all the way to the roof and was
now vanishing from view. At once Tony grabbed Cap and gave chase, shooting into the sky.
He deposited Cap on the roof to follow Spider-Man by foot, while he remained airborne.
 Spider guy could run fast, Tony had to give him that, and he could handle those webs of his
suspiciously well, swinging around as if he'd grown up doing it. He didn’t seem new to all of
this.

Cap threw out his shield, but Spider-Man ducked despite presumably not having eyes in the
back of his head. Tony shook his head in astonishment. Nat was right, his instincts were
ridiculously over-developed.

After flying, swinging and running in circles for a while, Cap finally managed to stop Spider-
Man in his tracks by slicing his webbing with his shield. For a moment Tony felt elation at
the progress, but that feeling quickly made gave way to horror as he watched Spider-Man fall
several stories, landing on the concrete below with a sickening crack. He stayed down.

It didn’t quite feel like a victory. Tony hovered uncertainly on the spot, staring at the
motionless vigilante. He looked… small like this.

“Shit.” Steve said, eyes widening. “Get me down there, Tony.”

Tony complied, grabbing Steve under his armpits and depositing him by Spider-Man’s side.
He waited as Steve kneeled down by Spider-Man’s side, hesitantly reaching out to gently
shake his shoulder. “Spidey?” Steve called. “Spidey, hey!”

He breathed a sigh of relief, when Spider-Man stirred weakly. “Go get Nat and Clint, yeah?
We should take him back to the compound for medical attention.”

As Tony left to fetch their teammates, Steve turned back to Spider-Man, who looked out of it
as he came to and started to shift away from Steve’s hands in a panicky, disoriented manner.
“It’s okay! I didn’t mean to hurt you this bad, are you…”

Instincts overruling his common sense in his state of confusion, Spider-Man unexpectedly
kicked out, hitting Cap squarely in the chest with enough force to break bones. Steve flew
back, connecting with a wall with an impact that would’ve surely paralyzed a lesser man.

Before Peter could even comprehend what had happened, what he’d done and who he’d just
nearly killed, his Spidey-sense pulsed out a warning. Peter was too slow and too out of it to
use it. A high-pitched whistle announced an incoming arrow.

For a single beat, Peter realized that suddenly a foreign object was sticking out of his
shoulder and that it hurt like a bitch. Then, everything went black.

Chapter End Notes

As I was writing the end of this chapter things suddenly escalated to a level that took
even me by surprise if being I’m honest. I hope it isn’t too much, but based on that scene
in Civil War where Tony checks up on Peter when he’s hurt and Peter nearly attacks
Tony because he’s still in battle-mode, I thought it did make sense.
Extra note: This was my last day of holiday, so updating will probably slow down from
now on, I'll try to update more this weekend before I go back to school, but I do have to
work Satursday and Sunday both, so I can make no guarantees.
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

Hi, I have an extra long chapter for you all. I don’t know how I managed to make a
nearly 6,000 word chapter today, but I was hit with a wave of inspiration during lunch
break so here it is.

Ps. I didn’t have the time to read it through as thoroughly as I normally do, so if you
spot any obvious errors please let me know so I can correct them!

The first thing to successfully penetrate the fog around Peter’s brain, was the fact that he was
in an upright position. Not laying in a bed or stretched-out on a couch, like he normally
would if he were to take a nap. The next observation that managed to register was the fact
that his entire body was tingling painfully and that the lights burning his retinas through his
closed lids, were too bright to be from his little bedroom’s.

After that, stimuli kept pouring in at an almost overwhelming pace: his shoulder was itching
in a way only recently healed wounds did and the room he found himself in smelled faintly of
antiseptic and hospital, glaringly different from the distinct lavender-scent of home, that
coated his and May’s apartment. He could hear three people just outside the room, their
agitated voices sounding faraway and smothered despite Peter’s sharp hearing, as if the noise
the mysterious trio made was travelling through a sound-proofed wall: another piece of
evidence indicating that Peter wasn’t home: the walls of his apartment building were rather
thin. Normally, he could hear the traffic from downstairs as if he were standing in the middle
of the road and he could follow conversations from several floors up if he so desired.

So, he’d been asleep, but he wasn’t in his bed, or even his apartment. Quite concerning. Even
more concerning, was that wherever he was, Peter didn’t quite know how he’d gotten there in
the first place. His memory was a bit of a fuzzy mess right now, all colors and shapeless
images, and he was too cotton-brained to really focus on trying to remember more clearly. He
just knew that however he’d ended up in this situation, it couldn’t be good. Something was
wrong, Peter could feel that in his very bones.

He’d never felt as out of it, as he was now. He was dizzy to the point that he wasn’t sure what
was up and down anymore and felt insubstantial in a way, as if he wasn’t tactile, instead
merely an illusion. He wouldn’t have been fully convinced he couldn’t drift away at any
given moment, hadn’t it been for the cold metal cutting into his wrists, which – while
worrying and extremely uncomfortable – was grounding and therefore somewhat reassuring
as well.

The craziest thing of all though, was that Peter felt remarkably safe at this undisclosed
location, in the company of these three unknown people, feeling as hurt, weak and spaced out
as he was. His Spidey-Sense was humming an unconcerned tune in the back of his mind. This
confused Peter, because except for the notable lack of anxiety caused by his usually
trustworthy sixth sense, all of his other impressions pointed to one probable, not at all
comforting explanation: He must’ve been knocked out or drugged, and kidnapped somehow.

Peter let out a soft groan, rolling his head, that had been limply hanging to his chest, upward.
May and Mr. Stark were going to kill him.

As time passed, realization of the situation he was in and the events preceding it started to
materialize from obscurity, sharpening more and more in Peter’s mind with every passing
second, as he regained his bearings and his grogginess slowly dissipated.

As Peter became more and more alert, he was forcefully reminded of the fact that he had no
May or Mr. Stark in his corner to be mad at him for getting into trouble anymore, because
Peter Parker was cursed with his blasted Parker Luck that had somehow transported him to a
freaking different reality where he didn’t exist, May was somehow dead and the Mr. Stark
that cared about him was in a whole different universe.

He was still at risk of being killed by a Tony Stark though, because this universe’s Mr. Stark
was the one who’d kidnapped him. Peter had to repress a loud sigh of exhaustion, slumping
in his seat. He’d been captured by the fucking Avengers. What a tragic clusterfuck of a life.
He must’ve been Thanos in a past life or something, to deserve the amount of bad karma he’d
been suffering through lately.

Peter blinked lethargically as his still somewhat dazed gaze travelled around the interrogation
room he found himself in. His eyes landed on the cuffs around his wrists and the chains
binding his torso to the back of his chair.

“Shit.” He muttered as he experimentally tugged at his restraints. He felt himself tense at the
resistance he felt. Vibranium. That wasn’t good, that left him without any tricks up his sleeve
if he needed to make a hasty escape. “Why can’t I ever catch a break?” Peter sulked to
himself resentfully. “This is just not fucking fair.”

On the other side of the mirrored glass, Tony, Clint and Natasha were observing the boy.
Tony noted down the short amount of time that their young captive had been out. “That
sedation arrow should’ve knocked him out for a few hours at least.” He muttered. “yet our
worryingly young John Doe here, casually wakes up after only one… not even Cap wakes up
that fast if he’s hit with these in training.”

“How is Cap?” Asked Clint, leaning against the wall with a grave expression. “That kid’s
kick must’ve been freakishly strong to knock Cap out.”

“The medical staff says he’s going to be fine.” Natasha said, without tearing her eyes away
from the kid in their custody. “He’ll be sore for a while, but with his enhanced healing he’ll
be back on his feet in no time. She said that his super soldier serum saved him though, things
could’ve been very serious if one of us had been in his shoes.”
Clint looked at the kid sitting inside, who was looking agitated. He seemed to be in pain, but
not in nearly enough pain for having head dived into a slab of concrete from the height he
had fallen from. “This kid can’t be a super soldier like Steve… right?”

“I wouldn’t rule it out. Maybe Hydra created him like they did Bucky.”

Tony shook his head, turning away from the kid and thumping his head back against the glass
tiredly. “Nothing makes sense anymore.” He intoned dully, sounding bone-wary. “A lot of
things don’t add up about this kid. He is wearing Stark Tech I don’t remember making and
even FRIDAY can’t find out who he is by scanning his face. God willing knowing his name
will help, but so far there isn’t a single record or picture on earth to prove this kid actually
exists.”

“Sounds like Hydra to me.”

Clint nudged Natasha. “I thought you and Steve dealt with Hydra?”

Natasha shrugged. “We thought we did, but S.H.I.E.L.D. also thought they’d gotten rid of
them only to learn that they’d been working in the shadows all along. Maybe Hydra
infiltrated Stark Industries as well and… stole Tony’s tools to make the suit which is why
FRIDAY assumed it was Stark Tech?”

“If Hydra is back again Steve is going to lose his mind.”

“We’re all going to lose our minds.” Natasha corrected Clint. “because the last thing we need
right now, is an old enemy profiting from the fact that half our team is gone.”

No one disagreed.

Clint looked back at their prisoner, watching the kid slump, hanging his head in apparent
defeat. He couldn’t help but see Cooper, in the chair of this nameless teen. “If Hydra is
involved, this kid is a victim. How old is he anyway, thirteen? Fourteen?”

“Age doesn’t mean anything.” Natasha said. “I was probably younger than him, when I
started becoming lethal.”

“And you were a victim too.”

“I wasn’t any less dangerous for it and I didn’t have super strength and the ability to climb
walls.”

Tony sighed deeply, feeling a headache coming on. Dealing with one displaced teenager was
trouble enough, he didn’t think he could handle another one. Especially an enhanced Hydra
kid that had issues similar to Barnes’ before his control over his own mind was restored. “So
what do we do?”

“Well, he’s just a kid and I shot him with an arrow after he fell of a five story building
because of us chasing him, so we should probably get him some medical attention.” Clint
pointed out. “I mean, he must be concussed at the least, freakish super powers or not.”
“Right.” Tony said, wincing at the memory of the kid laying motionlessly on the street. It had
been an unnerving sight even before Tony had known they were dealing with an underage
boy instead of a man, but now that he knew, it was a whole lot worse.

After cursing every deity he could think of including Loki and Thor, Peter tried to figure out
his next step. He really wasn’t going anywhere, unless he got out of this chair somehow, and
that didn’t seem to be in the cards for him.

He uselessly tugged at his restraints some more, before grimacing unhappily. Yeah, the
Vibranium definitely wasn’t going to give in. Peter couldn’t even blame the Avengers for
restraining him in such an extreme manner, after what happened with Captain America. He
cringed, as he recalled how he’d kicked the hero in a fit of panic. He hoped that the man was
alright, he really hadn’t meant to hurt anyone.

Rationally speaking, Peter could totally understand that the Avengers didn’t trust him and had
taken drastic precautionary measures, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t suck. In any other
scenario, Peter would’ve just waited for Mr. Stark to notice he was gone, track him down and
save his sorry ass, probably complaining about Peter’s recklessness the whole time.

It hurt to know that waiting for Mr. Stark to come pick him up wasn’t an option anymore.
The Tony Stark of this universe didn’t know Peter and his own Mr. Stark was stranded alone
on Titan, and that was assuming he wasn’t dead. There was no one waiting for him and there
was no one coming to save him. Peter hadn’t ever felt so alone before.

But his anger overshadowed his loneliness and the deep sadness that was desperate to come
out. He had tried so hard. He had rolled with the punches, no matter how much he’d longed
to just stay down. He had repressed his grief and loneliness and had focused on surviving,
working harder than he’d ever had, to try and make the best of it all even though he felt like a
vast part of him had died on Titan.

And he’d been so close to finally achieving something, so close to finding a sliver of
happiness, a silver lining to hold onto, in the darkness. He had just found a part of himself
again, or at least recreated it well enough, to feel a step closer to being the Peter Parker that
he’d been before his life had gone to shit in the most profound way he could even imagine.

He’d found a way to be a student of Midtown again, and a citizen of the city he loved. It was
the only piece of himself besides Spider-Man that he could reclaim. He wasn't Tony Stark’s
mentee and intern, he wasn’t Ned’s best friend, or even May’s nephew. He no longer lived in
his apartment in Queens and he no longer held any titles of honor, no matter how many times
he had won Science Olympiads and Decathlon nationals.

But he was Peter Parker again, a student of Midtown High in New York. All he’d really
wanted was to be able to be… himself again. It was so unbelievably unfair that if he told the
Avengers his name, and they inevitably looked into him and discovered that he’d forged his
identity, they’d tell him that he wasn’t.
That was the truth of the matter. Peter was scared, to tell the Avengers his name. Not only
because they probably wouldn’t believe him, when he told them the admittedly unbelievable
story of what happened to him. Sure, that was a genuine concern, but most of all, he feared
that they’d tell on him. He feared that they’d inform the government of the fact that Peter
didn’t belong in this version of the U.S. and Peter would be deported to who knows where,
since he doesn’t belong anywhere on this version of earth, and he’d be even further removed
from everything that made Peter, Peter.

He was Peter Parker, ordinary high school student by day, protector of New York by night.
He didn’t want anyone to take that away.

But the Avengers had come knocking and now he was stuck here, no way out and he doubted
that the Avengers would let him go without a definitive answer. It didn’t matter how long he
would hold out, because they’d just let him sit here in isolation until he was ready to talk and
Peter was already going mad, sitting here with nothing to do but think.

He didn’t know what was more miserable. Waiting indefinitely on the wrong side of the bars
of a holding cell in upstate New York as he worried tirelessly about being removed from New
York City, or risking being actually removed by spilling his guts, but with the slight
possibility of being allowed to get back to Queens?

Who was he kidding? Patience was a virtue. One that Peter definitely didn’t possess.

Tony was just about to page someone from the compound’s medical staff to come and take a
look at the boy they had restrained in the interrogation room, when the unnamed boy
suddenly raised his head with purpose and called out: “Hey!”

Tony’s thumb froze above the button he was about to push as he turned to face the boy, who
looked grave, but determined.

“Hey, I know someone is out there! I’m awake and I’m bored and I need some painkillers, so
just come in and talk to me or whatever!”

Clint shared a dumfounded look with Tony and Natasha. “How does that kid even know
we’re near enough to hear him?”

“Creepy sixth sense?” Natasha supposed, although she sounded uncertain. “Maybe the same
one that made him aware of me watching him when I was trying to track him?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” Tony ignored the assassins’ protests as
he threw open the door, barging into the room.

The boy flinched heavily at the unexpected movement and the clang of the door as the metal
connected with the white sidewall. “Fuck! What the…?” He glanced up, caught sight of Tony
Stark’s face and froze. “Wow, I didn’t expect for you to actually listen to me.” That’s a first.
He added mentally.
“How did you know we were on the other side of that wall?” Tony demanded, not beating
around the bush.

“I could hear you.”

“That wall is sound proof.”

“Not sound proof enough.” Peter shrugged.

Natasha and Clint followed Tony in, flanking him at one shoulder each. Tony didn’t need to
look at them to notice their disapproval of his impulsive actions. He could feel it wafting off
their tense forms in cold waves.

Natasha stared at the kid intently. “What is your name?”

The kid glanced down at his clothes – the suit Stark didn’t remember designing – for some
reason, before answering her. “I aren’t wearing my mask, huh?”

“You are not.”

“Well, I guess the secret is out anyway, in that case.” Peter said, sounding resigned. “I’m
Peter Parker.”

Tony looked at the ceiling. “FRIDAY, please run the name Peter Parker through the data
base.”

Peter glanced up at the ceiling, looking cheered at the knowledge that the AI was in the room.
“Oh Friday is here? Hey Fri.” He greeted warmly, ignoring Tony’s splutter. “If I’d known you
were here I wouldn’t have called the Avengers in, I would’ve just chatted with you.”

“I can find no results for the alias in our database, Boss.” Said FRIDAY. “However, two other
databases support the existence of a Peter Parker matching Spider-Man’s description. One of
which, is that from a high school called Midtown Tech.”

“How can he be in other databases when he isn’t in ours?” Tony asked, confused. “We have
everyone in the database, even the people that don’t exist anymore due to the Snap.”

“Last time our database synchronized with other databases, was before the Blip.” FRIDAY
says. “So Peter Parker must’ve been added after our last synchronization.”

“So his identity was added in the last six months.” Tony noted, frowning. “Can you pull up
those records for me?”

Peter sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound. It wasn’t like they weren’t going to find out he’d
hacked into these databases by themselves, keeping quiet would only delay the inevitable
minimally. “Okay, I’m just going to spare you the trouble of finding this out by yourself. I
forged my identity as a student at Midtown because I wanted to go to school.”

Natasha leaned against the wall, looking intrigued, while Tony and Clint exchanged an
incredulous look. “So what is your real name, then?” Asked Clint.
“Peter Parker, I just needed records to prove it.” Peter said truthfully, already really, really
tired of this entire situation.

It was clear that Clint and Tony didn’t believe that at all, though Natasha was staring at Peter
in what appeared to be consideration.

“Can you scan the kid’s face, one more time?” Tony prompted FRIDAY, not knowing what
else to do.

“I didn’t find anything the last twenty-seven times you asked me to do this, Boss.” Reminded
FRIDAY gently. “I do not think running facial recognition a twenty-eight time will make a
difference.”

“Just do it.”

“No results. As I predicted, Boss.”

“Okay, so can I explain now?” Asked Peter, straightening in his seat. “I didn’t want to tell
you guys because I didn’t think you’d believe me, but I don’t think I have many other options
right now... I really am Peter Parker and I was really born in Queens and I actually did go to
Midtown.”

“Then why would you need to forge your identity to prove that?” Tony asked, dubiously.

“Because… okay this is going to sound crazy, believe me I’m aware, but it’s true...” He took
a deep breath and blurted it out before he could second-guess himself. “I’m from another
universe. A parallel one, where so far the only difference I’ve been able to find, is that I exist.
Which I don’t, here.”

Silence. Then: “What?”

“I’m from another universe.” Peter grappled in his mind for a way to prove it, lighting up
when he got an idea. “If you let me put on my mask I could show you. I’m pretty sure that
my AI records everything.”

“You have an AI?” Clint spoke up, eyes narrowing in more suspicion. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” Peter said. “and yes, I have an AI. Her name is Karen and Mr. Stark made her for
me.” He shot a pleading look in his mentor’s direction, willing this alternate version of his
mentor to believe him. “Because I am not a stranger.”

“I did not make him any such thing!” Tony protested.

Natasha held up a hand. “So you claim to know Tony well?”

“He does not.” Tony was silenced with a single glare of Natasha’s.

Peter nodded and swallowed heavily. “Yes. My Mr. Stark at least. He’s my… mentor. He
found out I am Spider-Man and recruited me for a mission in Germany, to fight Captain
America and his team.”
“I would never recruit a child, I was not that desperate.”

Peter was growing frustrated with Tony’s inability to think outside the box. Only six months
ago the engineer had fought a purple alien, why was Peter fighting Captain America at
fourteen such a stretch? “I… I fought Thanos with you Mr. Stark!”

The three Avengers flinched at Thanos’ name. “Yeah?” Tony said, voice rough.

“I was beamed up into a space-ship alongside Doctor Strange. You rescued me and sent me
home, but I sneaked into the space-ship anyway. You called the space-ship a huge flying
donut, which was… accurate.”

Tony stilled at this detail. He remembered that nickname, Strange hadn’t been impressed.
Was this kid… telling the truth?

“You were quite mad I disobeyed you and I am sorry about that Mr. Stark, but I wanted to
help…”

“What happened then?” Natasha asked.

Peter swallowed, eyes going to the floor as they started to prickle. “We landed on Titan and
fought Thanos.” He said, voice hushed. “Doctor Strange gave him the time stone to save Mr.
Stark’s life and then… the guardians of the galaxy disappeared and then Doctor Strange
disappeared and then…” Peter choked. “I disappeared.”

Clint stared, eyes growing impossibly wide. “Holy shit… are you a victim of the Dusting?”

“Yes.” Peter emphasized, thankful that someone was catching on. “Thanos probably
succeeded in finding the last infinity stone, because I disappeared and it hurt like hell. I have
a healing factor, so my body kept on trying to keep me together… I didn’t just vanish like
everyone else. I felt my body decompose.”

Everyone in the room shuddered. Tony’s head was spinning. This kid knew stuff that he
couldn’t have known unless he was actually involved in the battle. The mere idea of some
alternate version of himself being stupid enough to bring a kid to fight Thanos made him
nauseous.

“If you’d just let me put on my mask, I could ask Karen to pull up my visuals. I can prove
this to you.” Peter looked beseechingly at his mentor, eyes shining a little with unshed tears.

The three Avengers shared uneasy looks, not quite sure how much they could trust this boy,
no matter how candid he seemed. They walked to the corner of the room and discussed under
their breaths, unaware of the fact that Peter could hear every whisper. “You think it’s a trick?”
Tony asked, desperate for Natasha to say yes. “I think it’s a trick, this can’t be true.”

“I don’t know, Tony.” Said Natasha softly. “He doesn’t look like much of one to deceive us,
to me. I don’t think he’s a threat.”’

“If even Nat says he seems harmless, then we know we can trust the kid.” Clint said peering
over his shoulder at the kid they were discussing, who’d ducked his head sniffing softly.
Talking about what had supposedly happened to him had clearly upset him. “Nat is like… the
most paranoid person I know.”

“Are we just conveniently forgetting he kicked Rogers into the hospital?” Tony asked,
temporarily distracted, incredulous by Clint’s usage of the word ‘harmless.’

“I didn’t say he wasn’t dangerous, I said I don’t think he’s a threat. Not to us.” Natasha didn’t
look away from the boy, who’d straightened up again, lifting his face, exposing the tear
tracks on his cheeks to the lights overhead.

Tony couldn’t deny that the sight made his heart twist a little. This kid was hurt. Traumatized.
Was it his fault? Had he really brought this kid to fight the Rogue Avengers, pulling him into
the dangerous superhero world, like universe’s most irresponsible mentor ever?

“It’s like his face is made of glass.” Natasha continued softly, heart clenching in an unusual
manner. “I don’t even need my spy training to see he’s afraid, sincere and mainly very, very
sad.”

“Maybe he’s acting?” Tony offered, even though he didn’t think so himself. He just
desperately needed the boy’s story to be untrue. He didn’t think he could cope with the
knowledge that something as unhinged as the multiverse is reality, nor with the fact that this
was his mentee, his kid, his responsibility.

Tony was absolutely convinced that he was the worst father-figure on the planet and he was
already screwing up with Harley. He didn’t want to be in the position to screw this kid up too
and he didn’t want it to be his alternate self’s fault, that this kid was in the situation he was
in, in the first place.

Clint shot Tony a disbelieving look. “He looks pretty damn sincere to me.”

Tony sighed and raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. We’ll let him use his mask.” He tried to
cover up the resignation in his voice by adding a mocking comment: “If this goes sideways,
you two get to tell Rogers though.”

They walked back over to Peter. “You have our permission to use your mask to try and
convince us.”

Peter smiled, relieved. It didn’t look as convincing with the tear-tracks he couldn’t wipe away
still visible. “My hands are tied, so I’m going to need one of you to activate it.”

“How does your mask thingy work?” After a short explanation that revealed it was quite
straightforward, Tony patted the kid’s chest and the mask appeared. “Nanotech.” Tony
murmured under his breath. “I made you a suit using nano-technology?” You must have
meant a lot to me...

“You called it the Iron Spider.” Peter responded, shocking Tony who hadn’t expected the kid
to hear him. “You first showed it to me when you offered to make me part of the Avengers. I
refused to be a part of the team though, so I only got it much later, when I started running out
of air in space.”
Clint shook his head in awe. “You’ve been in space. You’re sixteen and you’ve been in space.
You must be the youngest person to have ever to left earth.”

The mask retracted and Peter grinned hesitantly at the archer. “That’s what my friend Ned
will say… if he isn’t permanently Dusted that is, which I’m not sure of.”

Tony just stared at the boy as he chatted to his AI named Karen for a while, sounding polite
and fond in a way that people weren’t usually to artificial life. He’d been kind to FRIDAY
too, sounding familiar with her, as if they’d met before… shit, this kid was totally being
truthful.

Lasers appeared out of Peter’s mask’s eyes, a hologram showing the events exactly as Peter
had explained them.

Peter closed his eyes, when they arrived at his death, but the Avengers didn’t allow
themselves that courtesy. They, like Peter had had to the first time around, suffered through
every painstaking minute of pleading and despair. Tony had never seen himself look as
utterly wrecked, as he’d been in the video. Clint had never seen Tony so parental. Natasha
had never seen Tony so pitifully human.

A solemn silence fell, as the video recording stopped. Tony looked at the kid in front of him
with new eyes. “You okay, kid?” He asked softly. “You’re not still in pain?”

Peter looked up with a semblance of hope in his brown doe-eyes, but he sounded subdued as
he whispered: “I’m good, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony.” Tony said, as he leaned over to free the boy from his restraints. “Mr. Stark is
your mentor and perhaps he deserved the respect, but I’m just… call me Tony.”

“Okay.” Peter whispered, massaging his sore wrists when the cuffs fell off, clattering to the
floor loudly. “Tony.”

For a second Tony just stared at Peter, before he awkwardly lay a hand on Peter’s shoulder,
squeezing gently, which always seemed to comfort Harley well enough. “You should be seen
by a doctor, kiddo.”

Peter gave a small smile. “Maybe.” He admitted. His head was still hurting badly as was his
whole body actually, now that he was on his feet.

“C’mon маленький паук.” Said Natasha gently, gesturing for Peter to follow her.

Tony made to follow, but Clint held him back. “Hey. I don’t mean to interfere and know
you’re new to this kid-thing, but I’ve noticed it with Harley and I notice it now again… these
kids look up to you and you’re trying, I see that, but they need more than a friendly slap on
the shoulder.”

Tony looked uncomfortable. “What do you mean?”

“Your father…” Clint said hesitantly. “Your father didn’t give you much of an example on
parental affection, huh?”
Tony pursed his lips. “Not quite, no.” He said, sounding more clipped than he meant. “Why?”

Clint looked a little sorry for him, as he said. “A hug, Tony. You’re doing good, but Harley
needs a hug every now and again. And Peter… Peter needs one right now. From you.
Because you are the closest thing he has to someone he knows and cares about.”

At Tony’s stunned silence, Clint smiled sadly, clapping Tony on the shoulder in support. “Just
something to think about, Tones.” With that, he turned and followed Natasha and Peter to the
MedBay.

Tony waited a little longer, processing what Clint had said. He was right… Tony had never
received hugs from Howard, but he’d seen other kids hugged by their parents. And Tony had
been hugged by his mother, something he’d treasured and missed after her passing. Harley
probably missed the warmth of his mother’s embrace just as much as Tony sometimes did.
Tony wasn’t just substituting as Harley’s father, but also his mother now that he’d lost her in
the Snap. Of course Harley could use some affection in that way from Tony now that his
mom was gone. And Peter too, since he’d left whoever had been the person to hug and take
care of him – whether that was his alternate self or a parent or guardian – behind in this other
universe.

He… could do that. He could be that, for these kids. He was the worst parental figure in the
world and he and his alternate version both had probably messed up a thousand times… but
this was something he could do, to help these kids.

Determined, Tony made his way to the MedBay. If he hadn’t already been planning to hold
Peter close, he would’ve done it instinctively at the way the boy seemed so uncertain and
uncomfortable on the hospital bed he was sitting on, as a doctor put in an IV with strong
enough pain medication for it to work despite Peter’s enhancements.

Peter seemed to relax a little bit, when Tony entered the room and sat on his bed, looking at
his newest protégé worriedly. “You alright?”

“Yeah, Mr.- Tony.” Peter said, nodding, relaxing bit by bit as the meds started to do what they
were supposed to. The tension lining his shoulders dissipated and Peter sagged a little into his
pillow. “Oh, wow, that’s some of the good stuff.” He slurred, eye-lids a little heavier than
normal.

Tony took a deep fortifying breath, finding Clint’s supportive gaze, before gently tugging the
kid closer and engulfing him in a hug. A tight hug. Peter stiffened a little in surprise for a
moment, Mr. Stark had never hugged him before after all, they weren’t there yet… but then
he melted into the embrace. Peter had always been a tactile person, especially when he was
tired, cuddling with Ned on sleepovers and hugging May every chance he got. He hadn’t
realized how badly he missed physical affection the past few days, until just now.

The combination of the drugs and the safety and comfort Tony’s arms provided, made tears
well up in Peter’s eyes as his control slipped and the sadness he’d been pushing down since
Titan started to boil over. He felt as if Tony had tapped into his emotions and turned on the
tap, giving Peter no choice but to let go of the mask that had so far hid the cracks in his smile
whenever he looked into the mirror. He couldn’t stop the tears from coming and neither did
he want to anymore, as he sobbed in Tony’s arms, allowing himself to cry for the first time
since his visit to Ben and May’s grave on his very first day here.

Natasha leaned over and kissed Peter’s hair, before leaving with Clint to give Tony and Peter
some privacy. Peter cried for a long time and Tony just held him close, rubbing soothing
circles on the kid’s back, never letting go. Almost, as if Tony was holding him together until
Peter was capable of doing it himself again.

“Sorry.” Sniffed Peter, eventually, when the tears finally slowed.

“Don’t apologize, Pete, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Tony said. “I’m the one who is sorry,
kid.” Tony said, apologizing for so much more than just chasing and arresting the kid which
had hurt him in the process.

“It’s okay, I was acting shady, I would’ve chased and arrested me too.” Peter said, unable to
help himself from nuzzling a little further into Tony’s arms. It was unfamiliar, but it felt right
somehow. If he wasn’t high on extra strong morphine right now, Peter would’ve been
embarrassed by the realization that he felt home for the very first time since arriving in this
reality.

“Not just that... I’m sorry for all the ways my other self has endangered you too. I don’t know
what he was thinking…” Tony whispered in the teenager’s hair.

“It’s not your fault.” Peter defended, voice sounding muffled against Tony’s shoulder. “and it
isn’t Mr. Stark’s fault either, I decided to go to Titan all on my own, it’s my responsibility, all
Mr. Stark ever did was try and protect me.”

“I wish he’d been successful.” Tony admitted quietly, running his hand through Peter’s brown
curls. “You didn’t deserve to be displaced in the multiverse like this. I’m sorry that this
happened to you, Peter. I can’t imagine….” Tony’s voice cut off, not sure how to describe
how awful Peter must’ve felt. “I… I wish I could’ve protected you from it. I wish one of us
could’ve protected you.”

There, sitting on the feet of a hospital bed, with a teenager huddled in his arms, Tony made a
promise to himself, the kid in his arms and the kid that was sulking in his bedroom
somewhere within the compound.

His alternate self, had let Peter down and he himself, had been a bad father-figure to Harley.
He’d been focusing on the loss of Pepper and Rhodey and let his own father’s inability to
love affect his treatment of Harley. But not anymore. No longer would he mourn the family
he’d lost. From now on, he’d protect the one he’d gained.
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

Hii I'm back! This chapter is low-key short, but it's all I can give you guys today, so I
hope it isn't too much of a let down!

Peter was launching on his unusually comfortable hospital bed, using Tony’s phone to surf
the internet in an attempt to familiarize himself with this universe and find any differences
between his home and this parallel version, other than his own non-existence.

It was nice to get the chance to. So far, Peter had been way too busy sustaining himself to get
a read on the place he was trying to survive. It was also a calming activity to keep him busy
while he waited for the last of his drugs to pass through his system. Peter was due to be
discharged as soon as someone from the medical staff would take the time to walk over and
clear him officially.

Tony had left a while ago, something about having a quick chat with a Harley before dinner,
though Peter was struggling to comprehend that this version of his mentor was obsessed
enough with motorcycles to talk to them.

Despite the oddness of imagining Tony Stark leaving his bedside to talk to a machine, Peter
didn’t mind being left alone for a while. He had been alone a lot since the Snap and although
he had missed having company, it was also overwhelming to have it back so suddenly.
Especially with the intensity with which Tony was present.

There where it had cost Peter a lot of effort to get Mr. Stark to not panic and run away as
soon as Peter entered a room back in his own reality, this Tony was surprisingly clingy and
tactile. The fact that Tony had given Peter a hug mere minutes after officially meeting him
was proof enough that Tony and Mr. Stark were not the same person, no matter how much
they looked alike.

Peter was just reading up on the Accords, curious as to how the battle in Germany had gone
without his presence, when someone knocked on the door.

Peter straightened, expecting the doctor, but he winced a little when he recognized Captain
America leaning against the doorpost. “Hey there,” Steve greeted softly. “I heard that you
were released from confinement.”

Steve Rogers wasn’t wearing his famous uniform, instead wearing comfortable looking
sweatpants and an earnest, worried expression. Despite their last interaction, he didn’t look
remotely upset with Peter, though he did looked as banged up as Peter had felt before being
dosed with enough painkillers to sedate a horse. He had bandages around his chest and he
was still limping a little, as he approached to sit on the chair beside Peter’s bed. “FRIDAY
told me you’d be here. Are you very hurt?”

“I’m sorry for kicking you, I didn’t mean to injure you.” Peter blurted, putting the phone
down to look at Steve, eyes wide with concern. Steve didn’t seem to be in too much pain, but
Peter still worried. He didn’t often strike or kick without holding back and he honestly had no
idea how much damage he could actually do. The idea that Captain America had been a
guinea pig made goosebumps erupt on his skin and his chest tighten uncomfortably. What if
he’d been stronger? What if he’d killed Steve?

“It’s alright.” Steve reassured him, looking a bit sheepish. “I had it coming, didn’t I? I mean,
I made you fall down several stories, I’m the one that should be apologizing.”

“It’s okay.” Peter dismissed the incident. He’d taken worse tumbles and the Steve of his
universe had dropped an airport gangway on him when they’d first met. This one causing him
to fall some feet seemed rather mild compared to that.

“It isn’t okay. You’re a kid.” Steve said, sounding pained by that very fact. “FRIDAY showed
me the recording of your interrogation. How you got here… you didn’t deserve the way we
hunted you down.”

“It’s fine.” Peter repeated what he’d said to Tony on the subject earlier. “I was acting shady as
fuck, I would’ve chased and arrested me too.”

Steve visibly repressed the urge to scold Peter for his language-use. He muttered something
along the lines of “this is why one shouldn’t let Tony be in charge of a child…” before telling
Peter: “I met your doctor in the hallway and I’ve got your discharge papers here, if you’d be
okay with me leading you to the living room instead of Tony.”

“Oh. Yeah, that would be great.” Peter was more taken aback by the implications of these
words, than he wanted to admit. Some small part of him had expected to be kicked out of the
compound as soon as he was discharged from the MedBay – he’d proven he wasn’t a danger
after all and that’s all this version of the Avengers had wanted in the first place – but
apparently that wasn’t going to happen.

Steve looked honest to god confused, when Peter tentatively asked why he wasn’t being
brought back to Queens, as Steve led him to the living room area, where Natasha had made
dinner that Peter was supposedly also invited to join.

“Why would you want to go back to Queens?” Steve asked, sounding genuinely puzzled as
they walked. “Do you even have a place to stay?”

“Well no, but…”

“You really think we’d let a sixteen year old child, go back to living on the streets alone?”

“Uhm.” Peter hesitated. Maybe he should’ve guessed that heroes would’ve had problems
with that kind of thing, but if he was honest… yes, he’d really thought that. “Well you all
don’t know me, so I am really not your problem.” He tried to explain. Apparently something
about his words bothered Steve greatly, because the super soldier looked mightily saddened
all of a sudden.

Before Peter could ask what was wrong or apologize for whatever he’d said to upset Steve,
they arrived in the living room area. The room looked identical to the living room Peter had
spent quite some time in, in his own universe.

Clint and Natasha were laying out plates and cutlery at the dinner table, while Tony and a
blonde boy that seemed little older than Peter were sitting on the couch together, chatting.

“Harley,” Steve called out as he and Peter stepped into the room. He sounded low-key
depressed. “Please tell me that not all kids nowadays have no faith in the good of humanity?”

“What do you mean?” Asked the unknown boy, in an southern accent that took Peter by
surprise.

“Peter here, just said he’d expected us to kick him out of the compound to survive New York
all alone. Homeless, in the winter, without a guardian and without helping him get food, or
money or anything… simply because he wasn’t our problem.”

Clint and Natasha faltered mid-setting the table, both looking up at Peter, looking equally as
upset as Steve had been. Tony looked up too, also appearing distressed to hear what Steve
had to say.

Peter felt himself flush under their stares. “Well no, if you say it like that it sounds bad,
but…”

“But nothing.” Tony said, standing and resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder when he reached
him. “You’re Other Me’s responsibility, and his absence, you’re my responsibility. I refuse to
take you back to the city so you can live on the streets or whatever you've been doing lately,
in the middle of winter.”

“and even if you weren’t Tony’s responsibility we wouldn’t have abandoned you either.”
Natasha added softly. “You’re a kid, you need protection.”

Peter flushed further in embarrassment. “I was doing fine on my own.” He retorted weakly,
not because he wasn’t grateful for them wanting to help, but because he disliked the fact that
they made him feel dumb for not expecting this.

“Sure.” Natasha said, voice still gentle in a way that reminded Peter painfully of May. “But
you don’t have to be fine on your own. You could be doing great if you’d accept some help.”

“You want to help me? Despite not knowing me?” Peter repeated, choosing disbelief over
being disappointment later on. He’d really expected to be alone forever and then the
Avengers had captured and believed him and Tony had hugged him and now…

“You help people every day without knowing them.” The blond boy pointed out.

Peter didn’t quite know what to say to that, since it was irrefutably true. He looked at the boy,
wondering who he was. He was quite certain that he hadn’t met a version of this teen in his
own universe.

“Good point, Scoot.” Tony said enthusiastically, resting one arm around Peter’s shoulder and
wrapping his second around Harley’s. “So kid, you absolutely cannot refuse our help without
being a hypocrite. In other words, you’re staying.”

Clint cheered in the background, hugging Natasha exaggeratedly as she rolled her eyes
fondly at his antics, looking quite pleased herself to know that Peter would be staying. Peter
felt his lips tick up a little, feeling his chest warm at the fact that these people genuinely seem
to want him around, even while knowing he wasn’t supposed to be in their universe.

“You can have a bedroom on Harley’s floor, he’s got too much space for a teenager anyway.”
Tony said, squeezing both Peter and Harley’s shoulders as he looked down on them with a
gentle smile. “Oh, that is right, I almost forgot to introduce you guys. Peter, meet Harley, the
only kid I’ve ever tolerated. Harley, this is Peter, presumably the only kid an alternate
version of myself has ever chosen to put up with.”

Harley stepped forward and extended his hand to Peter. “I’m Harley Keener.” He said,
smiling at Peter. “Big fan of the way you stick criminals to walls.”

Peter’s smile broadened from ear to ear. “Peter Parker.” He introduced himself to Harley,
shaking Harley’s hand. “Tony going off to talk to a Harley suddenly makes a lot more sense.”

Tony laughed. “See, Scooter? People do think of motorbikes when they hear your name.”

Harley punched Tony’s shoulder non-too-gently.

Peter’s brown eyes darted from Tony to Harley and back again, taking in their easy
camaraderie and Tony’s nicknames. “Are you Tony’s me from this universe or something?”

Natasha laughed at the question, unable to help finding the way he posted the question
endearing.

“He broke into my garage a few years ago.” Harley said, as if that explained everything. “Did
he break into yours?”

Peter stared at Harley incredulously. “No. Why on earth would a billionaire break into a
garage?”

“You mean to say that you met Tony under normal circumstances?” The disbelief etched into
Harley’s features showed how improbable he found this claim.

“Yeah.” Peter thought that question through and corrected himself. “Well, to be fair, no. He
sort of showed up at my apartment uninvited, flirted with my aunt, and then basically
kidnapped me to Germany to fight Captain America.”

Silence fell. The Avengers had already known this, but Harley clearly hadn’t if his startled,
wide eyes were anything to go by. He stared at Peter, just as incredulous as Peter had been
just seconds earlier. “What in the Sam Hill?” He turned to Tony, eyes sparkling in amusement
as he deadpanned: “Tony, you are truly madder than a wet hen!”
“That was his Tony Stark, I had nothing to do with that!” Protested Tony huffily. “I still don’t
know what that guy was thinking bringing a kid to a fight...”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Stop throwing shade at Mr. Stark, that’s my mentor you’re talking
about. He’s a good person.”

“He sounds like a danger to society.” Steve said, earning a glare from their compound’s
newest inhabitant.

Peter opened his mouth to tell Steve about his reality’s Steve dropping part of an airport on
him, but before he could, Clint cut in, faux-seriously: “He’s not so different from our Tony
Stark then, that’s not new information Cap. C’mon, let’s eat.”

Everyone but Peter laughed at Tony and Mr. Stark’s expense, even Tony. As the others sat
down, Tony squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “No one is judging your mentor, kid,” he reassured.
“he must’ve been a great guy to have done such an incredible job mentoring you.”

Peter sighed and returned Tony’s smile with a small one of his own. “I know, I just… I miss
him.”

“I bet he misses you too.” Tony said, voice laced in understanding. “I barely know you, but I
know I’d miss you if you went away right now.”

Peter stared at Tony, genuinely surprised by how sincere Tony sounded and looked as he said
something that kind. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Tony said, looking down at Peter softly. “I don’t know what about you makes you so
easy to attach to, maybe it was seeing Other Me lose you, but you’re a good kid, Peter. I
know you’re your Tony’s kid, but as far as I’m concerned you’re my kid too, at least for as
long as you’re here. Even if that is forever.”

Peter couldn’t help but be the one to dart forward for an embrace this time. Sunshine flooded
his soul as he felt Tony easily return the hug. “You’re welcome here as long as you want,
kid.” Tony said, squeezing Peter close. “And even if you want to leave, you’re not going back
to living on the street. We’re going to help you. You’re not alone anymore.”

Peter pulled back before he could embarrass himself by bursting into tears again. “Thank
you.” He said in a soft voice.

“No need to thank me.” Tony nudged Peter gently and motioned to the table with a quick nod
of his head. “You ready for a bite?”
 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

Hii everyone, it's been longer than I'd hoped. I apologize for not being able to update
sooner, but depression and high school are kicking my ass, so it is what it is. I promise
that I haven't abandoned this fic, though.

Is this chapter short and shitty? Perhaps. Do I care? Honestly, not a lot, it's the best I can
put out right now. I'm just hoping it won't be too disappointing and y'all will still enjoy!

P.S. I promise Kate will be introduced in the near future.

Peter only had to stay in a guest room for a single night. Tony had gotten him a room on
Harley’s floor by sunrise the very next morning and with Tony, FRIDAY, Natasha, Clint and
Harley’s help, Peter made it his own.

He found himself mirroring his own bedroom in May’s apartment closely, choosing the same
wallpaper, posters, closet and desk. Only the pictures that had adorned his old bedroom’s
walls were missing. Strangely enough, Peter missed these less, than he missed the comforting
scent of home that his Queens apartment had provided. It was a detail that was not there and
could not be imitated.

Even more than this lack of familiarity staining the air, Peter missed the feeling of knowing
where he belonged. In his own universe, but even too in the life he’d solitarily built in this
one, he’d always pretty much known what he was supposed to do and where his life was
going, at least in a broad sense. He’d always had a vague focal point, a certain sense of
direction and purpose, that kept him going and kept his anxiety in check.

Now Peter felt adrift, thrown off-balance. Stationary, like a car that had had to slow down due
to a sudden fog, because it couldn’t see which way the road wound and what options there
were for turning.

It made him edgy. Peter had always been on the move. In his own universe he’d taken note of
and analyzed nearly all the variables and factors that could shape his life. Before Thanos,
he’d felt prepared for all the turns that his life path could take.

Then he’d been taken by surprise anyway and Peter ended up on an unknown road. But even
there he had been able to maintain his steady pace, working tirelessly to familiarize himself
with the new route and terrain, bending over backwards to predict the possible destinations
this road could lead to.

Then his life had been upheaved again and now Peter felt both disoriented and less and less
confident about his ability to estimate where his life was going in this ever-changing,
uncharted territory.

Personally, Peter believed he would have fared better at adapting to his new life, if he’d had
the distraction and normality of spending his day as Spider-Man. Unfortunately, none of the
people in his newest home seemed very eager to take him back to fight criminals in Queens.

“No way kid, you just left MedBay. What if you got hurt?” Tony said, when Peter first
announced his plans to go on patrol.

“It would be irresponsible of us to let a child face off against armed people lacking morals
alone.” Steve had said later, when asked for a ride, shaking his head at Peter. “I don’t know
what the adults in your universe were thinking, but I’m not giving you the green light to put
yourself at risk.” The hero clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing sympathetically, before
walking away.

Peter didn’t have any more luck with Natasha. “You’re still recovering and settling in,
Маленький Паук, give it some time.”

Or Clint. “If you got hurt because I let you go out unsupervised, Tony and Nat will kill me
and I will have nightmares for the rest of my life, so no. No amount of pouting is going to
convince me, Pete.”

It didn’t seem to matter how much Peter begged to let off some steam in the form of
vigilantism. None of the heroes appeared to understand that Peter needed to lose his anxious
energy somehow and patrol was the only outlet he’d ever had.

“I’m not asking for permission! I’ve been going out in the middle of the night without back-
up since I was fourteen!” Peter shouted defensively at the frowning adults in front of him,
face red with exasperated frustration. He’d tried to sneak out after midnight, hoping to avoid
the Avengers’ meddling, but FRIDAY had alerted Tony and Natasha, the little snitch.

“We know that you’re apparently used to being left to your own devices and working alone,
but that’s not what we do around here, kid.” Tony sighed. “We’re a team and when we
disagree on something we don’t go out and do our own thing behind the rest of the team’s
back.”

“I’m not an Avenger! I’m not part of your team, so you don’t get to bench me!”

Hurt flashed over Tony’s face, before he carefully tucked it away. “I never said I was
benching you.”

“You’re controlling me and treating me like a child in need of scolding.” Peter said, hostility
unlike any he’d ever shown a Tony Stark before palpable in his voice.

“We’re not trying to control you, we’re trying to protect you.” Tony argued.
“We just want you to be safe.” Natasha added calmly, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter felt the fight bleed out of him as he stared into Natasha’s gentle green eyes. “I’m not
just a kid. I’m a superhero.” He mumbled petulantly, succeeding only in sounding more like a
child than ever.

“We’re not saying that you can never go out to do your thing.” Natasha reassured him. “We
just don’t want you to do it alone.”

“And we don’t want you to take on too much at once and get hurt because of it.” Tony added.
“You’ve been through a lot.”

“Exactly. Anyone in your shoes would be overwhelmed and there’s no need to up the
pressure before you’re ready.”

Peter felt himself deflate even further, feeling a stab of guilt as he took in the sincerity on
Tony and Natasha’s faces. “but I am ready.” He whispered. “Being Spider-Man is the only
thing I have left from my old life. The only thing that gives me purpose.”

“and you’re not banned from doing it.” Tony repeated. “just please, for the sake of my hair
color, take one of us with you.”

That’s why the next day, the New Yorkers in Queens were treated to the sight of Spider-Man
and Black Widow jumping from roof to roof as they made their way through the
neighborhood.

“I can see the appeal to working in a team now.” Peter smirked as he watched Natasha take
down a guy that was harassing a group of girls outside a Starbucks. Natasha straightened and
grinned as Peter webbed the downed man to the sidewalk.

“I must say that I understand why you were so eager to get out here and beat up scumbags.
Fighting rogue AI's and aliens is fun, but taking down low-life crime has its own special
charm.”

Peter snorted through his mask, as he assisted Natasha in climbing to the roof of the
Starbucks’ building. “Oh believe me, I’ll take New York’s worst over Thanos any day.”

Natasha went quiet at the mention of the purple titan and Peter felt rather than saw the tension
suddenly radiating off of her taut form. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I don’t mean to keep bringing
him up.”

“It’s okay.” Natasha dismissed, sitting down on the roof’s ledge for a short break. “It’s
happened even more recently for you, it’s natural you feel the need to talk about it.”

Peter lowered himself onto the ledge beside her, pulling off his mask. “Did you feel the need
to talk about it at first, after the Snap?”
Natasha glanced sideways at the boy. “No.” She admitted. “Talking about it is an important
part of processing, accepting and moving on, I just… I didn’t. Talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“I lost the team. I lost my family.” Natasha looked away from Peter’s wide, brown doe-eyes.
“and I don’t want to process and accept that, I don’t want to move on, because… because it
feels like a betrayal to the ones that are lost.”

Natasha eyes glittered suspiciously, as she stared out over the bustling city beneath them. It
was lively, busy, but not as lively and busy as it should’ve been. The city’s brightness seemed
dimmed with invisible shadows, cast by the lingering presence of those that should’ve
walked these streets too.

Peter stared at Natasha, not quite sure what to say.

Natasha blinked and straightened, mask falling back into place as she reigned in her
emotions. She looked over at Peter with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No
need for the long face, маленький паук.” She said with a forced lightness to her voice. “I
have no need to complain. Sure, I lost part of my family, but so did half of the world. At least
I still have Clint left. And Steve. And Tony and Harley. And you.”

Peter felt his cheeks warm a little at Natasha mentioning him as part of her family, despite the
short amount of time that they’d known each other. “Me?”

Natasha nodded, opening up to the point of being vulnerable in a way Peter would’ve never
imagined he’d see the most badass woman alive. “If there is even a small part of you that
wants to stay, please do. The compound has been feeling empty since the others were taken
away… I’d like to think that you were brought here to fill that void.”

Touched, Peter scooted a little bit closer to Natasha, laying his head on her shoulder. “Thank
you.” He whispered. Natasha wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him to her side.
They sat together quietly for a while.

“Is really everybody else… gone?” Peter asked carefully, not wanting to upset Natasha
further, but needing to hear it to believe it. The fact that so many of his heroes hadn’t
survived hurt and Peter wasn’t about to believe it unless he heard it from a reliable source.

Natasha winced a little at the question. “Not… everyone.” She said, hesitantly. “Bruce and
Thor are still around, we just don’t see them much.”

Peter’s head snapped up in surprise. “Really? Where are they?”

“Bruce is in his lab. He doesn’t come out much, we don’t really know what he’s doing.”
Natasha admitted softly. “He’s taken the loss hard.”

“He’s at the Compound?” A slow smile built on Peter’s face as the surprising information
sank in. “Why did nobody say something? Don’t tell me Thor has secretly been so close too,
he’s my favorite Avenger!”
That made Natasha smile a little, Peter’s child-like excitement brightening her day just the
littlest bit. “Sorry to disappoint, but Thor is in New Asgard.”

“Oh, his own planet, that does make sense... He should be here, though, not in space. He’s
part of the team, part of the family.”

“Asgard was destroyed, so he isn’t too far away. The survivors are living on earth now.”

“Destroyed?” Peter shook his head as if to dispel the many questions that immediately
popped up, instead choosing to focus on the single most pressing question in his fanboy
mind. “So Thor is occasionally coming over then?”

“Not really. He’s mourning his planet and his brother.”

Peter couldn’t help but sag a little in disappointment at this piece of information. “I suppose it
makes sense Thor wants to be with his planets people…” He admitted reluctantly. “Is there
really no one else in the superhero business left?”

“I suppose you could count Carol Danvers, but she’s helping other planets.” Natasha
answered after a moment of thought. “And Happy Hogan.” She then added as an
afterthought, much to Peter’s delight.

Peter perked up, chest swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “Happy is alive? Thank
god!”

“You know Happy?” Natasha asked, amused.

“Yeah, he was my point of contact before Mr. Stark started a more hands on approach with
my mentoring.”

“Happy?” Natasha couldn’t keep herself from laughing at that a little. “Tony must’ve done
that to bully him, there’s no other reason for him to make Happy work with a bouncy ball of a
child like you.”

“He just pretends to not like me, he loves me really.” Peter pouted.

Natasha smiles at Peter, feeling warmth blossom in her chest. “I don’t doubt it, маленький
паук.”
End Notes

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