A/N: This is it, fanfamily! (I've decided to stick with it). This is the Final Chapter of "Five Things the Avengers Liked About Peter Benjamin Parker." This story was incredibly fun to write, and I truly hope you enjoyed reading is as much as I did writing it! If y'all want a sequel, let me know! And now, here we are with the final chapter, "The Strongest Avenger."
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Marvel, minus the plot.
The Strongest Avenger
The fifth and final thing (it wasn't actually the final thing, but whatever) that the Avengers found shocking about Peter Parker was his emotional strength.
Everyone knew about Peter's Parents.
They knew about the plane crash.
They knew about Uncle Ben.
They knew about the Vulture, and the warehouse collapse, and every near-death experience that Peter had ever had.
What they didn't know about was the scars. The physical or the emotional ones.
They didn't know about the panic attacks.
They didn't know about the nightmares.
They didn't know about Flash's bullying.
They didn't know about all of the sleepless nights he spent staring at his ceiling, refusing to let sleep take him because he was scared of the nightmares.
They just didn't know. And he didn't want them to.
He was strong for them.
Peter put on a grin every morning, he was kind to everyone, he helped people. He made jokes and wisecracks with Ned, he held MJ and laughed at nothing with her. He cooked with Aunt May, despite how terrible they both were at it.
He was careful.
When he wept, he turned the TV up so they wouldn't hear him. When he had a panic attack, he refused to let Karen or FRIDAY notify anyone. When he had a nightmare, he told FRIDAY he was fine, that she needn't worry.
When he came back from school with bruises on his face and occasionally a broken nose, he would blame it on his clumsiness, and patrols.
They believed him.
They believed him until they saw his scars.
They were out swimming, all of them, except for May and Happy (they were out on another date)- him, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Doctor Strange, Wanda, Vision, Sam, Bucky, Clint, Thor, Loki, Fury, and Maria Hill. They were all at Tony's house, at the lake in his backyard. Morgan was inside with Pepper, making lunch.
Peter refused to get in the water.
He didn't want them to see his scars.
Peter was ripped- there was no other word for it. He worse baggy t-shirts so no one would see is abs, and he wore sweaters and jackets so no one would see his "guns."
He was ripped in the sense that he was crazy muscular. But he was also ripped in the sense that he had slash marks all over his chest and back and arms.
And that was what he didn't want them to see.
Because it was ugly. He was horrifying and ugly.
"Hey, Pete!" Clint called to him from the water. "You gettin' in?"
Peter grinned and shook his head.
"Nah," he called back. "Sorry, Clint! I'm not a water spider!"
Natasha smirked.
"Neither am I, kiddo, but here I am!"
Peter just smiled and shook his head.
"Parker, what are you doing?" Fury barked at the teen. "It's summer, enjoy it! Get your butt in this water and be a teenager!"
Peter didn't like disobeying Fury, but he also didn't like his scars.
"Sorry, Director Fury, sir," he shook his head. "But I don't like swimming."
Steve was watching the teen with interest. What kind of teenager didn't like swimming?
"Aaaah," Clint smirked. "I get it now!"
"Get what?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.
Clint laughed.
"Little Petey doesn't want us to see how unmuscular he is! Ain't that right, Pete?"
Peter scowled.
"That is not why I don't like swimming, Clint," he snapped. "I just don't feel like going around shirtless, is all."
Steve knew he was lying. He could see it in his eyes.
"Peter," he said gently, "whatever you're hiding from us, you don't have to."
Peter's eyes filled with panic for a moment, but then it disappeared.
"I'm not hiding anything," he said shortly.
It was so obviously a lie, and everyone looked at him curiously. Why would he lie to them?
"Pete, take your shirt off and get in," Clint ordered, a smile on his face as he pulled himself out of the water to stand next to the boy.
"No," the teen said stubbornly.
"Alright, then," the archer gave in. "Tony, come help me."
Tony was out of the water in milliseconds, holing Peter down while Clint ripped the shirt from the boy's body.
"Hey!" he cried, furiously moving to cover his chest.
"Okay, now get in the-"
Clint cut himself off as he and Tony stepped back, his eyes landing on Peter's bare torso for the very first time. The archer paled.
"What?" Peter demanded, noticing that everyone was staring at him. He knew what they were staring at, but he wanted to pretend like nothing was wrong. "Is there something on my face? I have abs, so what, guys?"
"Peter," Tony whispered, his eyes wide. "What happened?"
Peter swallowed. He couldn't do this.
So he did the first thing that came to his mind.
He turned and ran.
"Peter!"
Everyone yelled for him, even Fury. Hardly anything could make that man sick to his stomach, but seeing the markings- some small, some hardly visible, and others huge and jagged and red and ghostly white and a pale purple- made him want to throw up.
Peter was just a kid.
He was just a kid, and he had more scars than most of the Avengers combined.
~:~
Peter couldn't breathe.
He knew he was having an attack, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. So he kept running, until he collapsed from his gasping, from his sobbing, and leaned against a tree. He dug his hands into his hair and let the tears run down his cheeks, not caring who saw or who heard.
"I can't take it," he sobbed, "I can't."
Images flashed through his mind; Ben, the Vulture, tiny fragments of memories of his parents. He saw every man and woman he had put into jail, every life he'd ever saved.
He saw every life he hadn't.
He looked down at his body. At the horrid scars, at the jagged things that he never wanted anyone to see.
Now, they had all seen.
They had all seen his failure.
"Are you happy now?!"
He screamed it at the sky. He didn't know who he was talking to; perhaps it was the universe in general.
"Are you happy that they know what a failure I am? That they- that they know how weak I am?!"
He whispered the next part to himself, laying his head back against the bark of the tree as the tears streamed down his face.
"I'm a monster. I'm a failure."
"Peter."
Peter slowly opened his eyes and looked up to see Loki kneeling before him, his black hair dripping water as he reached for the younger boy.
Peter flinched when Loki's thin, pale, gentle hand brushed his bare shoulder.
"It's alright, child," the god murmured. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Peter shook his head and stood, stumbling away from the man that had become one of his closest friends.
"Please leave me alone," he whimpered, noticing that everyone else stood father back, watching the seen with sad, horrified eyes. "I-"
"Peter, look at me," Loki commanded softly.
The kindness in his voice surprised everyone. After pardoning him of his crimes, after finding out it wasn't actually Loki that had attacked New York, everyone was shocked to discover that the man had a soft side, especially for Peter.
"Look into my eyes, Peter."
Peter did, and when he looked into the deep, forest green orbs, he didn't see hatred.
He didn't see disgust.
He didn't see pity.
Loki placed both hands firmly on the boy's shoulders.
"Listen to me," he said. "You are not a monster, do you hear me? You are not disgusting; you are not a failure. You are not weak."
"Look at me," Peter sobbed quietly, his shoulders and hands shaking as he gestured to all of his scars. "I- I'm-"
"You are you, Peter," Loki's gaze was firm, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Your scars don't define you, and neither do your mistakes."
"It's my fault," Peter was shaking his head, and it broke Loki's heart to see the boy in such a state. "Everything is my fault. My parents, Uncle Ben… everyone I've failed to save. I'm no hero."
"You're right," Loki agreed, causing everyone behind him to gasp. "You aren't a hero, Peter. You are a superhero. And I'm not talking about the kind that wears a cape and goes around blasting magic to save people."
Peter looked confused, but he was still shaking.
"You don't go around helping and saving people because you want to show off your abilities," Loki continued. "You go around helping and saving people because you care. And if that doesn't make you a superhero, I don't know what does."
Peter was shaking a little less now, but he was still shaking.
"Think of all the people you've saved," Loki gripped his shoulders tighter. "They wouldn't be here, if it weren't for you. And the people that didn't make it? That is not on you. You've saved so many innocent people, Peter. You're stronger than anyone I've ever met."
Peter didn't know if he should believe him or not.
"I'm still u-"
"Don't say it," Loki interrupted. "Don't even think for one second that you are ugly, Peter. Do you see this?"
Loki took his hands from Peter's shoulders and stepped back, pointing at a long scar that ran from his right shoulder to his left side.
"That was from the Chitauri," he explained. "They used a whip on me a few days after they found me." He pointed to another one, a cluster of scars that were angry and a pale purple color on his shoulder. "Those are from my father, when he captured me after the whole New York incident." Peter flinched. "He had the guards hit me with electric staffs if I ever did anything they didn't like. And I did a lot of things they didn't like. My father may not have physically given me these scars, but he allowed someone else to do so."
That's when Peter saw all of the other scars covering Loki's torso. Hs skin was littered with them, just like Peter's.
"I'm not ashamed of my scars, Peter," Loki continued. "And you shouldn't be ashamed of yours. Some scars are just proof that you survived horrifying events. And others give you a reason to tell hilarious stories to your friends and family."
Peter gave a watery chuckle and sniffed. He pointed to a scar next to his left eye, a small little dent in his skin.
"I got that one when I tripped on a banana peel when I was ten and fell into the corner of the wall," he said, and Loki laughed.
"What about this one?" the god asked with a small smile, pointing to one on the boy's arm.
Peter grinned.
"That's from Ned," he chuckled and shook his head. "Well, from his bookshelf. I swung into his room one night as Spiderman and I let go of my web too soon and my arm bounced off the corner of it."
Loki smiled.
"And that one?"
This time, he pointed to three separate scars that ran from Peter's shoulder and raked across his chest and abs. Peter frowned, and his small dose of happiness left him immediately.
"That's from the Vulture," he murmured. "He had these huge metal wings and he attacked me with them. He even knew I was a teenager, too. He dropped a building on me right after."
Loki inhaled sharply.
"I'm assuming you have nightmares, and panic attacks," he said soothingly. Peter swallowed and nodded. "I get them, too."
"I get them every night," Peter whispered. "I hardly sleep anymore because I'm afraid of what I'll see. And every time I have one, someone dies, and it's always my fault."
"But it's not, Peter," Loki told him. "That's what you need to understand. Nothing is your fault."
"Peter?"
Tony was walking up to them. Loki stepped to the side, and Tony took Peter's tear-streaked face into his hands.
"I'm sorry I-"
"No apologizing," Tony whispered, pulling Peter into a hug and running his fingers through the boy's hair. "I'm sorry we didn't realize what you were going through."
"S'not your fault," Peter said. "I didn't want you to know."
"Why?"
Peter took a deep breath.
"I didn't want to look weak," he whispered. "Heroes are supposed to be strong. They aren't supposed to cry themselves to sleep at night or have panic attacks every day."
Tony sighed and held Peter tighter.
"We're going to help you, okay, bud?" he said. "You can talk to us. When you have a panic attack or a nightmare, tell us, and we'll help you. Please don't hide your scars from us, Pete. We all have them. And yours make you that much more beautiful."
Peter let out a half-hearted snort.
"I'm a boy, Mr. Stark," he said. "I'm not 'beautiful.'" Tony pulled away and gave him a stern look that said, yes you are, but Peter smirked and added, "I am devilishly handsome, Mr. Stark."
Tony chuckled along with everyone else.
"And never think you're weak, Peter," Loki told him, and he and Tony led him back to the group.
"You're the strongest of all of us, Parker," Fury said, surprising everyone.
Peter nodded to say thank you.
With his friends surrounding, him- no, his family surrounding him- Peter felt more loved than he ever had. And he knew he was safe. He wasn't judged.
Peter was going to talk to them. He would tell them about everything.
And he did. He sat down with them a moment later and told them everything.
And now they knew about was the scars. The physical and the emotional ones.
They knew about the panic attacks.
They knew about the nightmares.
They knew about Flash's bullying.
They knew about all of the sleepless nights he spent staring at his ceiling, refusing to let sleep take him because he was scared of the nightmares.
They knew now. And he wanted them to.
A moment later, Morgan came rushing from the house, a huge grin on her face as she launched herself into Peter's lap. Peter ruffled her hair, and for the first time in months, he allowed a real, bright smile to grow on his face.
For the first time in a long time, Peter was happy.
He still wasn't too fond of his scars, but he knew that, with help, he would grow to love them. Because they were him.
And sitting here, by the lake, laughing with and surrounded by his family, Peter had never felt stronger.
~:~
These were five of the many, many things that the Avengers loved about Peter Benjamin Parker. The boy had become like family, and everything about him was perfect.
Even the not-so-perfect things.
But imperfection is to be expected, especially when you're a superhero.
~fin.