I came home after study group on the Monday after everything went down with the Avengers, and I found Aunt May in the living room, sitting on the couch and staring at the wall.

That's not good. That's really not good.

See, Aunt May and I both have panic attacks sometimes. Hers are worse, but I get them too. Mine are more like the shaking, crying, can't breathe kind. She sort of zones out, which is even scarier, if you ask me.

So I set my books down as quietly as I could and came and sat down beside her. "May?"

"Don't worry, I'm not panicking," she said softly, and she looked me in the eyes so I could tell. "Well, I'm not having a panic attack," she clarified. "I just-don't want you to be upset with me, Sweetheart." She calls me that when she's feeling maudlin or sad or scared or missing my Uncle Ben or just wistful. She calls me that a lot.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, taken aback. I mean, I'd been expecting her to find out that the whole Tony Stark thing wasn't exactly a student grant thing, more of a let's go fight Captain America thing, and I certainly wasn't ready for whatever this was. I'd been preparing for her to yell at me, not for me to be mad at her. That didn't happen much-like never, really. May isn't somebody you get mad at.

She looked straight-up nervous, and I didn't like that, so I scooted close and put my arm around her, and she leaned on me and closed her eyes for a second, like she used to with Uncle Ben. I'm not him, but at least I can try.

"I-uh-I've met Tony Stark before the other day," she continued hesitantly after a while.

"Huh?" I tried to wrap my brain around that. "So-that's why he seemed so surprised to see you," I put together. "I thought he just thought you were hot, but it's because you guys know each other."

"Knew each other," she corrected. "We were both a few years out of college, and we met in Europe, a long time before you were born." She took a deep breath. "We-dated for a while."

"You dated Tony Stark?" I pulled away and sat facing her, shaking my head. Honestly, I thought it was pretty funny, but she was looking at me all apprehensive, like she was afraid of what I would say.

"It was serious," she added. "Like getting engaged serious."

"What happened?" I asked.

She smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Tony wasn't the man he is now. When I met him, we had this crazy whirlwind romance, like something in a movie. He didn't even tell me his real name; he wanted me to see him, not the money. He said his name was Damon Bradley." (She laughed at this; I didn't know why.)

"But he was crazy, and he drank too much, and he took risks. I thought it was fun for a while, but he wasn't the kind of guy you settle down with-not unless you want to lose your mind. So I-broke up with him. It was the hardest choice I've ever made. And a year later, I met your uncle. He wasn't flashy, but he had a lot of qualities Tony didn't have back then. He was the one, and I'm not sorry about how things turned out, but I am sorry I didn't tell you. It wasn't right to act like I didn't know him."

I reached over and gave her a hug. "Well, it would have been cool if you'd told me you knew the guy I've idolized my whole life," I teased, "but I'll let it go." After all, if we were talking about big fat lying secret keepers, I didn't exactly have any room to talk. It made me feel just a fraction better about my own web of deceit to find out that my sainted aunt had been lying by omission.

Aunt May hugged me back and then pulled away and looked into my face with that stare she gets where she narrows her eyes and seems to be searching your soul. I hadn't minded that look until, well, until I'd gotten my powers, and then it was the most terrifying thing in the world. She's not great at keeping things from me, but I'm not usually that great at keeping things from her, either. The fact that I'd managed to hide my new identity for months was a minor miracle.

"I don't know why you're taking this so well," she said suspiciously, "but if you decide to explain at some point, I have ears." She patted my cheek and smiled brightly. "I'm glad you're home, and now you know my ugly secret."

"Are you-" my brain was whirring at this point. "You know that grant I got? Um, Mr. Stark may be involved some more, like, he may want to meet with me. Are you ok with that? I don't want you to have to see him if you don't want to."

"It's ok," she said. "Seeing him was more like meeting an old friend than anything else. But that's sweet, Peter. You're a sweet kid." I dipped my head, blushing, getting out of my depth with the emotional stuff. "Now, go do your homework, and I'll call you for dinner."

She shooed me away, and I went to my room, thinking that even though she might be kind of old, Aunt May still didn't understand guys that well. "Like meeting an old friend," - sure, an old friend who obviously thought she was so beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off her or stop talking about her. Stark's "Aunt Hottie" comment made so much more sense now. I rolled my eyes and got into my Biology homework.

Another week passed before Stark sent me a message. Not gonna lie, I was kind of hoping for something dramatic involving that signaling device he'd invented for me, but it was a plain old email.

Hey Kid,

Doing ok since Berlin? How's Aunt Hottie? Don't do anything crazy like going off the grid. Might need you.

Tony

I was beyond glad my aunt had confessed everything to me before I'd heard from him.

Mr. Stark,

Feeling ok. Still taking ibuprofen for my ribs, but nothing's broken. May's fine. Says she used to know a guy named Damon Bradley. You know anything about that?

Peter

p.s. Can't go off the grid. Too much homework.

I smiled to myself as I hit send.

The next morning, I checked my phone, and Mr. Stark had replied at 3:42 in the morning. I guess he wasn't sleeping that well since he'd broken up with Pepper Potts. I know it sounds weird that I knew about that, but everybody knew about it. It was all over the tabloids, science news, business news. When two people who are that famous decide to "take a break" in their relationship, everybody kind of hears about it.

Anyway, I opened it as soon as I saw, before I was even really awake.

Pete,

Mea culpa, should have told you. Sorry about that. Want to chat? Stark Tower's waiting.

Tony

Once I'd wakened up enough to formulate an answer, I wrote back.

I've got exams. Might be able to get to Manhattan on the weekend.

Peter

The funny thing is, when I got to school that morning, I was pulled out of my first-period class and sent to the office. The receptionist, Mrs. Franks, smiled brightly at me. She's a nice lady, like, super nice. I don't know how anybody who works in a high school in Queens is still that nice, but anyway, she handed me an official-looking form.

"Peter, the Stark Foundation is here to pick you up for your extracurricular assignment. Just keep this form with you. They're waiting outside." I took the paper and put it in my pocket, noticing that just outside the office's glass door, a fancy entourage of back SUVs with tinted windows was parked, with a couple of guys in suits standing around them.

"Have fun." I don't think I imagined that Mrs. Franks winked at me as I walked away.

As soon as I opened the door, a tall, heavyset man approached me. "You'll be riding with us, Mr. Parker," he said, and he opened the back door of the third car. As I slid into the seat, I saw that I wasn't alone.

"Hey, kid, couldn't wait for the weekend. Hope you don't mind."

I looked into the face of Tony Stark, and I didn't know if I felt more irritated, relieved, happy, or something else. So I started talking. That's usually how it goes. "What about my exams? And what about my stuff? I don't even have my tablet. Or my suit. And what about May? You didn't even warn me!"

Stark put his hand on my shoulder, like he had at home. "One thing at a time. First of all, it turns out that being winner of the Stark Grant is an automatic A on your upcoming midterms. I, uh, contribute a lot to the school system here. Wasn't too hard to make that happen, not with your grades already being so high. Secondly, not to be dismissive, but your "stuff" isn't really relevant compared to what I have at the Tower. You can have anything you want, within reason. Or out of reason. I don't actually care."

Finally, he sat back, smiling. "Oh, and I have a copy-or two, or ten-of your suit." He shrugged. "Your aunt signed a permission slip. I had it sent over certified mail last week. Made it look all official. You'll be home at night, but you can work with me at the Tower for the foreseeable-as long as you want to, anyway."

I blinked. "I can get high school credits working with you?"

Mr. Stark smirked. "Not to put too fine a point on it, kid, but I am the 'greatest scientific mind of the postmodern age,' to quote Tech Weekly. It actually looks good for the school system to be able to say they have a student interning through the Stark Grant, a thing that only exists because you exist, obviously."

I relaxed against the seat back and breathed deeply, trying to take it all in. "Why? Why me? The world has a lot of people with powers. I'm just a kid from Queens. Is this about some weird thing with May?"

I watched Mr. Stark fidget with his seatbelt. "No, kid, it's not about your aunt. We can talk about that if you want to, but this is-this is about you. It's about me getting a text from my friend Rhodey with a video of a kid swinging through New York on a web. It's about me meeting that kid and finding out I like him, because he reminds me of myself at his age, except a lot better." He finally met my eyes, and my hero, billionaire Tony Stark, actually looked shy.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark," I said, feeling myself blushing. "I hope I won't disappoint you."

"Not gonna happen," he answered. "No way you could even come close to equalling my notorious teenaged years if you tried. You're just too good." He laughed, and I laughed, but I felt a twinge of something painful. If I was really that good of a kid, would I be lying to May, the woman who always put me first, even though she didn't have to?