Happy Monday. This completes day thirteen of whumptober: breathe in and breathe out. Enjoy!

"Say hello to your new guardians."

Peter pulled down the sleeves of his shirt and gave a withered glance at Tony who greeted them with a smirk in the lobby of the hospital. He ignored the flip in his stomach. This was a different Tony All that mattered was finding the truth and if he was a bit giddy from escaping the hospital, well, he wasn't going to complain.

"Hell, Tony. You work fast when you want to."

"What can I say," He said saddling up to them and throwing his arms around each of their shoulders. "I'm the kind of person who can…"

"Stuff it?" Rhodey added helpfully.

"Fuck off?" Peter said to which Rhodey laughed.

"I can offer my support and guidance to this wrecked youth in need. You imbeciles. It's not too late to take you back." He said with a side eye at Peter as Rhodey and him continued to laugh together.

"We have to keep him. I mean he looks so good in the plaid and all." Rhodey shoved them all so they wobbled over each other's legs and barely missing the spinning doors. Peter remained squished between them the whole trip to the car. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

Unlike so many years ago they arrived at the apartment with the gloom of impending doom. Though he still had a flash of apprehension, this time was fresh. He almost expected to see the door split in two on the floor and broken kitchen table, but there wasn't a single scuff mark or dented piece of furniture in sight. Not even the fabric of the couch, less faded green than he remembered, was worn from use.

At the hospital it was difficult to believe the he had time traveled but the apartment it was obvious. The rubber pile in the corner turned out to be a clear inflatable seat with glitter. Behind it was a sturdier, more expensive looking chair pushed into the corner. The influence of Rhodey and Tony and their youth, he assumed, was abundant. He often wondered how long they lived in this space.

They settled around the table Peter had last seen in pieces. He grabbed the cups out of the cupboard to pour water.

"What?" He said as he set them down on the table. They eyed each other before Rhodey spoke.

"How did you know that's where the cups were?"

Peter looked down at the table clenching his fists in his lap. "Oh, uh, well. That's just how it was at my house and I assumed the same here. It's a fairly common cupboard design about 45 percent of people have the cups to the left of the stove."

They stared at him and shared another look. Peter watched as Rhodey shrugged.

"Alright." Tony said clapping his hands to gather them around. "I need to fill you in on the cover story and just make sure everything's okay with you. This is not an actual kidnapping no matter what my compatriot says."

"You thought it sounded cool as well." Rhodey crossed his arms in front of him.

"Of course, it sounds cooler. Anyway, I want to preface this by saying I can undo any of this if you want. You also don't have to sign them now, although if someone comes sniffing around it would be better."

He shifted through the stack of papers laid out on the table and began describing the plan. Tony hadn't been joking when he mentioned guardians earlier. The guardianship, as far as he could tell from reading through the papers was as legit as his driver's license. Peter signed his name wondering how legal this all was. Tony was putting the papers away in a matter of minutes.

When he asked how everything wrapped up so quickly Tony said: "I'm rich, kid, and money buys this type of stuff way too easy to be okay with but it does have its advantages. Case in point here."

"You were right to be worried. The CPS was looking for you. Along with…" Someone kicked Peter under the table.

"Ow!"

"Oops that was meant for Rhodey."

"Ow, damn Tony."

The two devolved into bickering from there and Peter never learned what Rhodey was going to say.

The brush moved up and down the wall. It repeated the same motion over and over leaving a trail of evidence on the vertical surface until it dried. He knew what room would be his before they walked him down the hall. There was the bed and dresser but was void of all the decorations that had been hanging when Peter lived there before.

"We've just never gotten around to decorating. So, it's up to you, honestly I couldn't care less so go all out."

Peter requested blue paint and bedspread but gave no more direction than that. All three of them dressed in old t-shirts so the painting would go quicker. Peter's thoughts wandered after the first wall. With every new stroke of paint, he wondered how and if he was changing the future. The possibilities confronted him with every decision no matter the size. He could be changing everything. The time space continuum could be irrevocably destroyed by him eating a bowl of Wheaties in the morning. Not that the apartment was stocked with any healthy cereal.

The worst aspect was the secret voice in his mind that wanted to change everything. He wanted to storm out and never return to the apartment. He longed to stay wrapped up in his new comforter and never leave. He wanted to go see May. Longed to stare at her smile and wrap his arms around him. Would she recognize him somehow in the deepest parts of her? Would their connection transcend time and reality? What was the right choice?

The answer scared him.

The impossibility of the situation was precisely why he was staying inside the apartment as much as he could. This afternoon was paint day.

"Why the long face, Peter?"

"Go away Tony."

"Well, he's got a point. You look like you wanted to paint it with lavender and we wouldn't let you. I knew that lilac would've been perfect."

"Shut it, Rhodey." He said with a reluctant smile. Tony stepped toward him and with a flick of his wrist, pointed the paint brush at him. Peter wiped his sleeve along his chin.

"Point to you, Honey Bear. I need to step up my game."

"What-what do you mean?" Peter dipped his paintbrush into the pot, making sure to wipe one side off before dabbing it into the corner of the wall.

"We've got a small bet going to see who can make you smile more. Believe me, kid. It's harder than it looks. Here I thought I was king of moody but you might take the cake."

They gave each other high-fives as Peter deadpanned. He should be mad they were betting about him. They were laughing and he agreed, it was ridiculous. Their attempts were absurd and stranger still, it was working. Tony rubbed in the point he won from Peter's smile. Before he could celebrate Peter jabbed him with the paintbrush staining his shirt with a blue dot. He turned to Rhodey and with some extra strength and a precision throw launched the paintbrush at him.

Both exclaimed and an all-out war ensued.

The room was painted… eventually.

The paint never came out of their clothes.

None of them cared that much.

"Did you hear that our esteemed guest. It's movie night, although I wouldn't get too excited because it's Tony's turn to pick.

"You guys watch without me, I'm not feeling it."

Peter found out within days of living with their younger versions that Tony was right. He was the king of moody and he was wearing the crown tonight. Only with the promise of cookies and popcorn had he emerged from his room wrapped snug in one of his blankets. Tony snatched the cookie tin away from Rhodey and, with crumbs on his mouth, refused to watch any movie his friend suggested.

"But we didn't celebrate Christmas Tones. Pllleeease."

"You know I don't like it."

They sat, arms crossed, staring at each other. Peter shifted his weight between them. He was on his way to make popcorn at Rhodey's request but Tony's refusal had put a stop to the plans. He risked a glance at Tony who was still staring daggers at his friend.

May and Ben had seen how Peter struggled with the holidays in the beginning years of living with them. While they never forced cheer on him, they created traditions Peter could find a sense of newness in. Instead of baking gingerbread cookies, they cooked pfeffernusse. Rather than hanging stockings, their faux fireplace was lined with t-shirts they decorated and sewed up at the bottom. Sometimes Christmas wasn't about Christmas as much as it was about just being with people. Peter had an idea. It just so happened to involve a movie he'd watched with them twenty-five years into the future.

"How about we watch some good old classic horror films. House of Dracula?"

The suggestion was unfair in some ways because he knew Tony only watched horror movies during the holidays. Their conversation at the hospital shed some light on the reason why he refused to watch family films at this time of year. Peter decided not to question if this was a previous tradition or if he was the one to introduce it.

Two hours later found Rhodey snoring – heavy breathing, he insisted – on the couch. Peter and Tony carried the empty dishes into the kitchen. Peter began washing and Tony leaned against the island counter, water in hand.

"Hey, Peter?" Tony handed him the glass but didn't move away from his side.

"Hmm?"

"How did you know I liked to watch horror movies?" Peter froze for a moment and began scrubbing again. He forced himself to laugh.

"I didn't. I picked something not Christmassy but still a movie so Rhodey would be happy."

Tony hummed. "You're a strange kid. You know that?"

"So I've been told." He scrubbed harder.

"You know I didn't mean it that way."

"Do I? I don't know you. Not really. I don't think I ever did." The frustration was hot on the back of his neck. Peter rinsed the brush and began scrubbing anew. "Why do you watch horror movies at Christmas anyway?"

Tony contemplated his words. Timed slowed in that moment. The water dribbled down his wrist and into the sleeve of his sweatshirt, Tony's foot tapped against the cabinet, and the snores from Rhodey wafted into the room. Finally, he stopped tapping his foot and turned toward Peter.

"It was something my mom and I did. I, uh, didn't get along with my dad and used to get scared too easily. We would watch them together to conquer that fear I had. It's stupid but I just never associated Christmas with Christmas growing up."

"It's not stupid and, if it means anything, I understand. When I lived with my aunt and uncle we never really celebrated in a traditional sense. I'm sorry I snapped."

Tony shrugged. "It's nothing I didn't deserve. I'm trying not to push but I am me so bear with it while I practice."

Peter chuckled. Tony had no idea how pushy he was sometimes.

Peter choose the wrong one.

It was such a small detail; one he barely noticed was absent on his second introduction to the apartment. Tony had given him a magazine and instructed him to pick any phone he wanted for the living room. He dropped it on Peter's desk and hurried off not answering his questions about what happened to the last one. Peter gathered from Rhodey that someone, he wasn't going to snitch, had thrown it out the window.

Yes, out their multistoried apartment window.

Peter flipped through it and then he'd seen the one. It was so cool complete with clear plastic and these colored innards. The neon fidgets inside would move when you were on the phone convinced him so he'd ordered it without a second thought.

It wasn't until he awoke in the middle of the night sweat soaked through his shirt that he remembered. He stumbled to the office and rummaged through the papers in hopes of finding the receipt. Of all the times for someone to organize.

Damn it.

The phone in the future wasn't clear with neon accents. It was a hamburger. The phone was in the shape of a hamburger. Would this food shaped communication device be the difference between life and death?

He didn't know.

It was his fault.

He backed up into the hallway until his back hit the wall.

Peter barely noticed the shaking of his hands but could feel the pins and needles of each breath he took. His breath stalled and built up the pressure in his chest begging to escape out. His fingers tingled. Peter lost track of time.

"Breathe in and breathe out."

"We're here… sitting right beside you, Peter."

"You are here in our apartment. You are Peter Parker. I'm Rhodey. That's Tony and we are going to be okay."

Peter came back to himself in slow increments. His back was pressed against the wall. There was cramp in his legs from curling them up to his chest. He stiffened and then relaxed. Two bodies were pressed against each of his shoulders. His head was bent up, resting on Rhodey's shoulder and his hand was tucked into Tony's palm between their bodies on the floor.

He didn't remember his mission or how angry he'd been. All he could think about was the fact he might have ruined it all. He might have taken their future away and it was all his fault. What would happen if he ever went back to the future and these solid presences were no more all because he made a mistake?

Rhodey shifted in his sleep. Peter's head fell more fully on his shoulder. He breathed in the minty scent and some of the anger he dragged back with him from the future chipped off his heart. Did the truth matter from the future when the Tony and Rhodey from here and now were beside him, comforting him?

Peter closed his eyes and slept.

Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think!