Author's Note: I'm not sure how many chapters are left in this story. I'm thinking maybe five or six, but it could be more or less. We'll see where the muse takes me. Thanks for all your continued support! I'm always thrilled to read your reviews. Please enjoy this chapter!
"It's all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members, but they won't let anyone else do it. That's when you get your back up and show loyalty."
― Markus Zusak
Weeks go by without so much as a trace of Norman Osborn.
While Peter's relieved—after what happened with Gwen, he doesn't want to risk anyone else—he's also a little on edge. He wants this huge threat hanging over his head to go away. Aunt May will be released soon—though if Fury got his way, she would stay put for as long as it took until Osborn was gone—and Peter misses his house. He misses walking to school.
He misses being a teenager.
And sure, he loves the team. They treat him with respect and have taught him so much since he first got here—new attacks, new ways to make web shooters, even Thor taught him how to properly toast a Poptart!—but he knows that as long as he's here, with them, he's a liability.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Tony's voice startles him and Peter nearly jumps, almost dropping the screwdriver in his hand. His web shooters are on the workbench and he isn't exactly sure why he's tinkering with them since they work fine. He just needed to do something—anything—to keep his mind off Osborn.
"Just a penny?" Peter teases half-heartedly, "Thought you were a billionaire."
Tony smirks and comes to stand next to the teen. Glancing down at the web shooters, he picks one up and carefully examines it. Then, meeting Peter's gaze he asks, "You ever think about adding a screen in these? Hooked up to JARVIS? You could be really high tech."
Peter scoffs, "Not everyone needs to have an Ironman suit to be cool, Tony."
"Ha ha," Tony retorts, placing the web shooters down, "So, what are you actually doing here? These things work fine."
It figures Tony would be able to see through him. The self-proclaimed "most awesome Avenger" is pretty observant when he wants to be. Plus, it's not like Peter's been doing his best to hide his worry. There are so many thoughts he wants to voice, but he's afraid to. He's a member of this team and he needs to be strong for them. He can't show his weaknesses; he has to be stronger—
"Peter?" Tony places a warm hand on Peter's shoulder and something inside of him snaps. A dam of emotions crumbles and surges through him and Peter doesn't know if he wants to scream or cry.
Pushing away from Tony, the teen shouts, "I'm a danger to everyone! Osborn is still out there and I feel so damn useless—"
"Useless?" Tony echoes, "Peter, you're not—"
"I should be out there helping look for him!"
"That would be suicide and you know it!" The genius inventor retorts sharply. "Look, kid, Osborn will turn up. Just have to wait for it."
"Easy for you to say." Peter murmurs, coming to sit at the stool by the workbench. He lets his elbows rest on the cool, metallic desk and he sighs as he glances over at the web shooters. He's Spiderman and yet, there's nothing he can do to resolve this problem. He can web sling through the city, dodge bullets, stop bad guys and yet, when it comes down to protecting the people he loves, he's powerless. And then, there's the part of him still desperately longing for normality, for teenage problems, for not having to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders—
The tear rolls down his cheek unexpectedly, startling him as he quickly wipes it away. He knows Tony noticed it though—Tony is very observant when he wants to be—and the teenager just wants to go to his room and shut the door. Being alone—being isolated—it's safer than being out there with them, than being with Gwen at school, then waiting for something terrible to happen because he's Spiderman and something terrible always happens—
"Peter," Tony's voice is unusually soft. His eyes are warm, swimming with concern and pity. As the inventor takes a seat next to the teen, Tony chuckles somewhat, "Look, I've never been good at the whole pep talk thing. That's more Steve's deal. I don't know what to say to you to make things better. You could think it's a load of crap anyways." He smirks and Peter can't help but chuckle, some of the tension draining from his body.
"So, just basically like all your advice take it with a grain of salt?" Peter teases and Tony nods.
"Right." Then, his expression growing serious, the inventor continues, "But here's what I do know. Fury ordered us to accept you. You were forced to come here. It should've been a pretty crappy situation all around," Tony runs his hand through his hair and curses, "Shit. I'm not good at this whole talking about your feelings crap. But listen, Peter, if we didn't care about you, you wouldn't be here. And the fact is, you're not a liability. You're an asset. You help out in the lab. You make sure Thor doesn't burn down the kitchen. You watch those old movies with Steve." Tony beams at him, "Peter, there's so much you do for this team that honestly, I don't know how we managed without you."
Peter is stunned. He's never heard Tony be so sentimental before, let alone without even a hint of sarcasm. He doesn't know how to respond or how to thank him for his kind words.
"And now that I'm sounding completely awkward," Tony stands up abruptly, "I'm going to get some target practice in. Don't worry about Osborn. He'll show. Until then, we have to be ready, right?"
Peter grins, "Right."
"Good. See you for dinner then."
And with the cling of the door behind him, Tony Stark is gone.
"You got number three wrong."
Bruce circles the equation in red pen and Peter leans over the desk, peeking at the sheet of AP chemistry practice questions. It's after dinner and the tower is pretty quiet for a Friday night. Thor is out with Jane, Tony and Pepper are out to see a show, Clint and Natasha are out on patrol and even Steve is out for the night, seeing a Gene Kelly movie at the movie theater downtown. That just leaves Bruce and Peter, which is fine for the teen. He rarely gets a chance to talk to the intelligent doctor. Bruce is a quiet one, but when he does speak, it's with keen insight, revealing something previously unknown to the group.
"Really?" Peter checks over his work, wondering where his error is.
"You didn't balance the equation properly," Bruce circles and Peter scans the rest of the equation as the scientist continues, "You need two of those molecules to achieve the correct products."
"Right," The teenager can't believe he missed something so obvious. He scribbles a few more numbers on the paper and balances it, "Thanks, Bruce."
Bruce hands him back the paper, "Anytime. It's not often that I get to take a look at something other than Tony's impossible to read papers."
Peter chuckles, "No wonder Pepper always writes his notes out."
Bruce rises from the table, stretching a bit. He's been hunkered down in the lab recently, working on some sort of new prototype for the Ironman armor. He hasn't really explained what he's been doing yet, but whatever it is, Peter rarely sees him because he spends practically all day and all night in the lab.
"Peter."
"Yeah?"
The scientist hesitates, biting his lower lip a bit nervously.
"Bruce?" Peter prompts.
"You want to come for a walk with me? I haven't been out of the lab in so long—"
He's reaching out, Peter realizes. Trying to strengthen their bond, trying to become closer teammates and even friends. It's a rare sight for the quiet scientist—to actually want to go out with someone. Usually, he felt safest in the tower and Peter figures that is due to the Hulk.
But now he wants to go out.
Who is Peter to deny him that simple joy?
"Yeah, sure," Peter grins, "I could use some fresh air anyways."
The smiles that graces Bruce's face is as bright as the sunshine and just as warm.
Central Park is pretty quiet for a Saturday afternoon.
There are the occasional joggers and they even passed a film crew a little while ago, but other than that, it's just the two of them, strolling through the park, the warm breeze ruffling the teen's hair. The sunshine warms his skin and as he keeps walking, he can't help but wonder when the last time he actually went out without worrying was? Months ago? Years, maybe?
Bruce is quiet beside him, but he seems to have a spring in his step. The environment is doing wonders for the bags under his eyes and the scientist seems to be happier now that he's actually outside and breathing in the warm air.
"This was a good idea, Bruce." Peter tells him.
"Yeah," Bruce smiles a bit, "Tony's been telling me to get out of the lab for awhile, but I just . . . wasn't sure."
"Because of the other guy." Peter completes and Bruce nods.
Peter hasn't met the Hulk yet. He isn't sure if that's a good thing or not, but he's not afraid of the great green guy. He's seen the footage from the Battle of New York and he knows how powerful the Hulk is, how resourceful he can be. The Hulk is destructive yet, but Peter knows there's more to him than meets the eye. What, Peter's not sure, but one day, he'd like to figure it out.
But for now, all that matters is this moment, being outside with Bruce, feeling a sense of peace that he hasn't felt in—
There's a prick of pain at the back of his neck and Peter staggers forward.
Bruce stops, the scientist's brows furrowing in confusion, "Peter—?"
His neck on fire, Peter tries to remove whatever bug that might've bitten him, but he pulls a small needle out of the back of his neck instead. Dread settles in the pit of his stomach.
"Peter, what is it?" Bruce is by his side now, seeing the small needle in the teen's hand, his breath catches.
"B'n drugg'd," Peter slurs, the syllables colliding as the ground spins around him, the colors all-blurring into some sort of Impressionist pastel painting. He reaches out for Bruce and grips the scientist's arm. "Bruce—"
"I've got you," Bruce's voice sounds so far away and so faint, like the wind that seems to be swirling around him now, "Peter, just—"
But the sound cuts out then and there are people suddenly surrounding him and Bruce. Peter wants to help, wants to get Bruce to safety, but his vision darkens and then there's nothing.
Nothing but the abyss.
Author's Note: I know, another cliffhanger, but please don't kill me! New chapters will come out soon, I promise. Until then, just be patient. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!