Peter's heart was in his throat. He didn't know why. His parents were both superheroes. They dealt with shit weirder than their kid developing spider-based superpowers on a regular basis. It wasn't like they were going to panic and kick him out, as happened with too many mutants. Still, Peter was jittery, like he'd swallowed fifty butterflies and they were kicking up a storm in his gut.
Tony had made him swear to tell his parents. Not that Peter had really been planning on hiding it, but Tony made sure that as soon as Bruce had the results from his tests that proved that Peter was in perfect health and was (likely) going to stay that way that Peter would tell his parents. Bruce had gotten the results back that morning, and Tony had confronted him with a raised eyebrow and folded arms that afternoon when he got back from school. His parents had returned home in time for dinner—Peter didn't tell them before, or during, and after dinner Tony gave him that look again. It was weird how much of Mom he could see in that look. That look made him feel guilty, so of course, he slunk to the living room where his parents were. They sat on the couch, arguing over the remote—Mom wanted to watch CSI, Dad wanted to watch Grey's Anatomy. It was a regular occurrence, despite the DVR.
Peter cleared his throat, announcing his presence. Dad paused and so did Mom, stuck in their fight. Dad was reaching up to grab the remote that Mom held up high and behind her head. They looked at him for a moment, but he couldn't get his throat to work properly.
"Peter? What is it?" Mom asked. "Are you ok?"
"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm…Can I just…have a few minutes to talk to you guys?" he asked. Mom put down the remote and they changed positions to look less ridiculous.
"Of course, Peter," Dad said. "Why don't you take a seat?"
"I—I'll lose my nerve if I do—ok, look, here I go—ok, so that field trip? To Oscorp? Uh, something…weird happened there. Really weird. And uh ok IgotbittenbyaspiderandnowIhavespiderpowers."
Mom and Dad were silent. Peter just stood there and stared with wide eyes, feeling like a complete idiot.
"I—could you repeat that? Slowly?" Mom requested. Peter took a deep breath.
"I got bitten by a spider and now I have spider powers," Peter repeated.
"Ok, I'm not crazy, you really said that," Mom said, more to herself than Peter.
"What—what do you mean spider powers, Peter?"
"Uh. I stick to stuff now. Like ceilings and glass and—anything, actually, I'm using atomic force—well, not consciously or anything—but—uh yeah. And I'm—I'm really strong now, like stronger-than-James strong. And I heal pretty fast. And I'm really flexible. And I might have some kind of precognition? I don't know, my reflexes are ridiculous now but there's something else, too, I haven't fully got a handle on it—ok, please stop looking at me like that, that's what I was afraid of—"
"Oh Peter," Mom breathed out. She got up and hugged him tight, which was weird. Mom was affectionate but she wasn't really the hugging type; that was Dad's thing. "We—we need to get you to a hospital, make sure everything will be ok—maybe SHIELD medical—I'll call Bruce—"
"Oh, no, I'm fine," Peter reassured her. "I already—I did that yesterday. Testing and whatever. With Bruce. And uh, other Tony and other Bruce. Other Tony, he uh, he kind of caught me on the ceiling, so."
Dad had gotten up from his seat now by this point as well, coming to stand beside Mom. His expression was difficult to read, but he looked…a bit sad. So did Mom.
"I'm not dying," Peter reiterated. "Or turning into a spider."
"And it's permanent?" Mom asked. "Bruce thinks it's permanent?" She let him go, but only just. She still held onto his shoulders gently.
"Yeah! Yeah, he thinks it's permanent," Peter said, smiling. Mom closed her eyes and let out a breath, and Peter's smile disappeared. "Isn't this—I mean, it's awesome. It's—I'm happy. It's really cool. And now—I can go to the Academy now, with Kate and everybody."
"But you don't have to," Mom said earnestly. Peter's eyes flicked from Mom to Dad, confused. Neither of them was happy, he was slowly realizing, and not because they were under the impression he was dying.
"But I want to," Peter said. "I'm—I can—I have powers now." Peter thought that would clear things up. He didn't understand how they couldn't understand. Mom's hands fell away from his shoulders and she went back to sit down on the couch, putting her head in her hands like this was immensely difficult for her. Peter looked to Dad. He couldn't lie. He felt hurt. He felt rejected. Dad put a hand on his shoulder.
"We know, Peter," he said. "We—we're just a bit surprised, is all."
"I thought you'd be happy for me," Peter said, letting the hurt bleed through.
"Peter, son, we love you, spider powers or none. But I just don't think you quite understand," Dad tried to explain, looking pained. Peter wrenched away from his Dad's warm presence.
"No you don't understand," Peter said, practically shouting. "And you of all people should. I've been scrawny and weak and nothing all my life. I get my ass kicked at school by an idiot jock with a vendetta on a regular basis. I'm nothing and nobody and I've never even had friends. And now—now I have a chance to be somebody. To do good things, to be like you and Mom and Kate and, fuck, even James and you look like I'm telling you the dog died."
"You're getting beat up at school?" Dad asked softly. Mom had removed her hands from her face to look at him forlornly.
"Fuck, Dad," Peter said in exasperation. He just turned around and left the room, hot tears of anger and disappointment building behind his eyes and in his throat.