ilA/N: Hello, friends, and welcome to Chapter Five! This chapter was again, another one of those bears to write. Not much action, here, but hopefully you guys enjoy it. As always, please read and review, and thank you so much for reading!

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Marvel.

Chapter Five

Peter Parker opened his eyes.

Bright white light shone down into them, and they moistened; he could feel a miniscule breeze chilling the wetness, and a tear rolled down the right side of his face.

He felt it, on his cheek. He could almost sense the salt in it, he felt so much.

More senses started coming back to him: pain shot through his right arm as he tried to move it, and he could feel the itching of the cast up his forearm; he breathed in through his nose, smelled the sterility of the air; he could tell something was on
one of his fingers, something else stuck inside the crook of his elbow; he realized the bright lights were medical spotlights, that the breeze was from the air conditioner.

He was alive.

A short gasp escaped him. He felt his chin quiver and his lips downturn as he started to cry in earnest.

Octavius was gone.

His sobs seemed to have drawn some attention, as he heard the door open before the room's main lights came on. Bruce Banner's haggard form came into view in his peripheral, followed by Tony Stark, Reed Richards, and Steve Rogers. The men surrounded the
bed on all sides, with Bruce and Tony on his left, Reed on his right, and Steve at his feet. The doctors in the room all wore white lab coats, while Steve's off-white t-shirt seemed stretched to the limit as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hello," Bruce said.

Peter tried to turn his head to look at Bruce, but a strap wrapped around his forehead prevented him from moving. He flexed his good arm, tried to lift it, but realized then that his whole body was tied down to the bed.

"Sorry for the Frankenstein routine," Tony said.

"But we needed to take necessary precautions," Reed finished.

Peter groaned, trying to move again. "Guys, it's me, I swear," he said.

Steve shook his head. "If that's true, we're very sorry. And happier than you know to have you back. But until we're certain, you're staying on that table."

Sighing, Peter laid his head back against the bed. He should've expected this, he knew, but that didn't mean he liked it.

The doctors circled around, and Bruce unbound Peter's right arm, then lifted the cast. "He seems to be healing from his physical injuries well enough," he said.

"Well, that's not unusual," Tony said, checking one of the monitors. "Other than the electrical burns and the broken arm, the body was fine."

"Yes, I'm going to love being referred to as 'the body' for the foreseeable future," Peter said.

Tony reached down and squeezed his shoulder. "That sounds about right," he said.

"Brain activity looks relatively normal," Reed said. "Delta waves are a bit excessive, but that's to be expected, considering you're healing. Theta waves, however, were fluctuating quite a bit more than they should've been."

"Theta waves indicate troubled images, nightmares," Bruce said. "I'd say that's to be expected as well, if we are in fact dealing with Peter."

Steve uncrossed his arms. "I suppose that's a point in your favor," he said.

The door burst open, and Johnny Storm sauntered through. "So what's the word, eggheads?" he asked, stopping next to Steve. "Is it him?"

"We still don't know, Johnny," Reed said.

"Well I've got the perfect test," Johnny said, walking up next to the bed so Peter could see him. Johnny leaned down, his nose inches from Peter's. "Say something funny."

Peter smirked. "Funny how? Funny like Carol's hair in her mask, or funny like your face all the time?"

Johnny leaned back. "I was expecting you to go Pesci," he said.

"You know me, Matchstick," Peter said. He groaned again as he tried to shift on the bed. "I love subverting expectations."

From the corner of his eye, Peter saw another figure standing in the doorway, and Tony checked the heart monitor again when he heard how quickly it started beeping. "You know," Carol said, stepping into the room, "The real Peter told me he liked my new
costume."

Peter stared at her face, and his eyes filled with tears anew. She took another step forward, more into the light, and he started to smile. Until a memory flashed before his eyes.

"Whoa," Reed said. "Theta waves just took a huge jump." He wrote the information down on his clipboard.

Carol stopped next to Peter's left side, her arms crossed over her chest. "How do I know you're really you?" she asked.

Peter's mouth twitched a few times. "Hello, Lady," he said, choking through his voice.

Carol ripped the strap away and lifted his head as much as she could before crashing her mouth onto his.

Tony gave them a sideways glance as the heart monitor went crazy, and Reed gave up on writing down brain wave activity.

"Carol?" Steve asked.

Carol pulled away only an inch, her forehead and nose still touching Peter's. "It's him," she said, smiling that smile Peter loved.

Steve grinned, then motioned to the other men in the room. "We'll give you a few minutes," he said. "But you can't be sure, so leave him tied down for now, alright?"

Carol turned her head and smirked at Steve as he was walking out. "Yes, sir," she said, saluting.

His cheeks burning scarlet, Steve closed the door behind himself as he left.

Carol turned back to Peter, and placed her hands on either side of his face. She held him there for a few silent moments, resting her forehead against his. He could feel her breath against his chin each time she exhaled, and the faint honeysuckle of her
perfume trickled into his nostrils. "I thought I lost you," she said.

Another tear streaked down his face. "You did, for a while. I'm sorry."

She pulled back from him. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she said. "It wasn't your fault."

Peter looked up at her face again, saw the spotlight's halo around her blond hair. He tried to give what he could of a smile, but every time he looked in her eyes, his mind flashed back to that night.

That terrible first night.

He looked away from her, to his right. "When you left, I thought," he paused, taking a breath through his nose. "Well, I thought you left. Me."

Carol gripped his hand. "Jess told me," she said. "Peter, I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to think that, I never meant for you to."

His mouth twitched up for a second. "I know. It was just me. I was so sure you would wake up one morning, look over and wonder 'what the hell am I doing?'"

"Not yet," Carol said.

The door behind her opened, and Steve stuck his head inside. "Carol?" he said. "Strange is here."

Carol nodded. "I'll be back soon," she said, sliding off the edge of the bed.

Peter watched her leave, saw Steve give him a hard glance as she walked past. The door clicked shut, and Peter was alone again.

The tears came hard and fast, and try as he might, Peter couldn't stop them. He tugged on the straps again, but they must have been designed with a superhuman in mind, because he couldn't break them. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to get off
that table, crawl up to the darkest corner and curl into a ball.

The first night just wouldn't stop.

Hinges squeaked as the door opened again, and Peter saw Doctor Strange enter the room. The Sorcerer Supreme closed the door with care, then turned back around. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Peter sniffed, trying to blink the wetness out of his eyes. "Tears of joy, Doc. I assume you're here to give the others their assurances," he said as Strange approached his bedside.

"I'm not here for them," Strange replied. He unbuttoned and removed his long black coat, and tossed it on a chair along the wall. "I'm here for you."

Peter turned his head, the strap that had been holding it in place now removed. "Is that in an emotional way, or like a metaphysical one?"

Strange rolled a chair over to the bed and sat down. "In a friendship way," he said, intertwining his fingers. The golden Eye of Agamotto glinted from around his neck. "But you were right about one thing. The others would like to be sure of who you are."

Straightening his head back out, Peter stared up at the white lights overhead. "Go ahead, Doc," Peter said. "You've seen it all before. Just try to be careful, I'm pretty sure last time cost me ninth grade algebra."

"I don't need to do that, Peter," Strange said. "You just offered it to me freely. I know it's you."

The room was quiet for a few moments. Strange leaned back in the chair, and Peter breathed in and out through his nose, listening to the heart monitor.

"Doc," Peter said, turning his head back to Strange. "I think I'd like you to check anyway."

Strange leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why?"

"Because I just… I need to know," Peter said. "I need to be sure that he's gone."

Strange grinned.

Peter pursed his lips. "This is what you meant," he said. "About being here for me."

Standing, Strange placed his index and middle fingers on Peter's temples. "This won't take long," he said. Blue light glowed around his fingertips as he whispered, the golden amulet around his neck brightening in reaction to the magic. A few seconds later
Strange stood and gripped Peter's left hand before grabbing his coat and walking back out the door.

Peter watched him go, another few moments passing with nothing but the monitor's beeping filling the silence. Then the door opened, and Steve walked in. He crossed to the bed and untied the straps, then pulled Peter up and into the strongest hug Peter
could remember since Uncle Ben's after he won the sixth grade science fair. "Peter," he said. "We're glad to have you back, son."

"Thanks, Cap," Peter said, gripping Steve's shoulders with his good arm.

Steve pulled away from him, and, wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulders, guided him out into the hallway, where the others were waiting.

"Welcome back, Web-Head," Johnny said, clapping Peter on the shoulder.

"Yes, Peter, we're all happy to see you returned to your normal state," Reed said, "Though I would love to run a few tests…"

"Tests later," Tony said, throwing his arm over Peter on the other side. "Tonight, revels!"

Johnny looked at Tony. "Why do you keep using that word?"

"I don't know, it's a thing. Respect the thing."

Bruce walked up and reached for Peter's right hand before seeing the cast. "Good to have you back," he said, switching hands and shaking Peter's left.

Strange was leaning against the wall behind them, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets.

"Doc," Tony said. "Will you be joining us for tonight's festivities?"

Strange gave them a half-smile. "I suppose I can spare an hour or two," he said.

The Sorcerer Supreme fell into step with the rest of them, and the men walked another few steps before turning a corner and stopping in their tracks.

Carol stood in the hallway, blocking their path, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at Tony and Steve each in turn, her eyebrows furrowed. They lifted their arms from around Peter's shoulders and stepped away from him, their movements those of
someone trying not to antagonize a grizzly bear. She took a solitary step forward.

"Mine," she said, ducking down and lifting Peter up onto her shoulders, her forearm holding him behind the knees, his arms and torso dangling behind her. She turned away from them and walked down the hall. Peter gave a shrug.

"Just make sure he's presentable by eight!" Tony called as they disappeared around a corner.

Carol carried Peter all the way back to his quarters, where she deposited him on the edge of the bed. She sat on his left and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers, then rested her head on his shoulder.

"Carol," he said.

"Shh…" she cut him off.

They sat there for a while, neither of them moving, though Peter did turn his head and relax against her.

"I'm sorry I left, Peter," Carol said into his shoulder.

"Don't be," he said, her blond hair tickling at his nose. "It wasn't your fault. And I'm sure the galaxy needed you."

Carol lifted her head and turned to look at him. "It did," she said. "But that doesn't mean you didn't."

Peter tried to look in her eyes, but the memory flashed at him again. It was as if her eyes were a translucent screen shading a monster behind them. He stood and crossed to the closet, rifling through his clothes for the one presentable dinner jacket
he owned, praying Octavius hadn't left it at the apartment.

"I don't think I'm more important than however many trillions live in the galaxy," he said.

He felt Carol hug him from behind, her arms crossing an "X" over his chest.

Like he was being buried.

She stepped to his side and found the jacket, as well as a shirt to accompany it. She helped him out of the t-shirt he was wearing, and stared at him for a moment before walking around him, letting him dress in privacy.

Peter pulled the shirt on, having some difficulty with getting the cast through the sleeve, but managing. Once the shirt and coat were on, he walked in front of Carol and held out his left hand. "Come on," he said, wiggling his fingers, "Let's not keep
the others waiting."

Carol took his hand and they walked to her quarters, where Peter waited outside while she changed. She came back wearing the same black halter dress and pumps she'd worn the night she returned from space.

His eyes scanned up from her feet, and as much as he loved what he saw, more memories started sparking in Peter's mind. As he reached her face, one memory was most prominent in his mind: laughter.

Laughter that he knew and recognized all too well.

Peter held out the crook of his elbow, and Carol took it, walking with him to the elevator to the penthouse.

The doors dinged open, and Tony greeted them as soon as they stepped through. "I tell you eight, you get here at eight-fifteen," he said. "Fashionably late as usual, Ms. Danvers."

As some of the others noticed that Peter had entered, Steve took to the balcony overlooking the room. "Avengers and friends," he said, clinking the side of his glass with his fork, "We are here tonight to honor one of our own."

Peter and Carol stopped in the center of the room, each of them holding a glass of water. Scanning the room, Peter saw many of the people there who had helped liberate him from Octavius's control: Reed, Sue, Johnny, and Ben Grimm of the Fantastic Four;
the X-Men Cyclops, Storm, and Beast; and his fellow Avengers Luke Cage, Iron Fist, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Thor, Bruce Banner, and Wolverine. Matt Murdock was in the back, chatting with Jessica Drew, and Doctor Strange stood next to the window.

"One to whom we owe an incredible apology," Steve continued, causing Peter to look up at him.

"Peter Parker, the Amazing Spider-Man. There truly is no better descriptor for you," Steve said. "From the age of fifteen, you've been fighting this fight. Saved countless lives, battled powers that outclassed you at every level. You've sacrificed more
than anyone would ask of you, and lost even more. And done it all without the appreciation of those you're helping. More often with their open derision."

Steve walked down the steps, until he was standing a foot in front of Peter. "Whenever any of us, whether the Fantastic Four, or the X-Men, or we in the Avengers, were in need, you gave of yourself without hesitation. Even against impossibility, you were
there, lending what help you could. You've travelled to Asgard to aid the mighty Thor…"

"Aye!" Thor shouted, raising Mjolnir high.

"You've joined the Fantastic Four against the invading forces of the Negative Zone. You've fought the Hulk as he rampaged through Manhattan. You've faced demonic nightmares with Doctor Strange and godlike mutants with the X-Men."

Steve clasped a hand on Peter's shoulder. "But when you needed us," he said. "We let you down."

Peter looked down at the floor.

"There were so many times something was off, so many signs we should've taken into consideration," Steve continued. "And we didn't. Because we were too wrapped up in ourselves, too distracted by things that we thought were more important."

Steve looked to Carol. "It took someone who didn't think there was anything more important to push the right buttons, to take our blinders off and show us that someone to whom we owe so much, someone we all consider a friend, was in danger."

Peter raised his head, first to look at Carol, then back to Steve. "Cap, I…"

Steve shook his head. "I know that the words themselves don't mean that much," he said. "I know that there's quite a bit of repair work that needs to be done before these bridges are fixed. But I hope this is a start."

Reaching out, Steve took Peter's left hand in his and shook it. "Peter, from the bottom of our hearts, every one of us, we're truly sorry."

Peter stood dumbfounded, his mouth agape. "Thank you, Steve," he said after a moment.

Steve nodded, then stepped away from Peter. The rest of the evening consisted of the others walking up and offering their apologies in one form or the other: Cyclops and the X-Men approached as one; Peter noted how diplomatic Scott had become since Xavier's
death.

Reed and Sue came together, and Sue gripped Peter tight around the shoulders before turning to Carol and complimenting her on how good her dress looked. Reed just started trying to talk to him about the tests he wanted to run before Sue dragged him away.
Even then, Reed's head stayed until he finished his sentence, then snapped back to the rest of his body.

Jessica Drew gave Peter a kiss on the cheek, and told him she was going to start keeping in better touch with Julia Carpenter, the new Madame Web, so they could know when something was going on within the "Great Web" that connected them all.

Johnny tried to get Peter into a drinking match with Ben Grimm, but the Thing declined, saying it wouldn't be fair. Until Thor and Logan stepped up to the table, and the pints started flowing. Peter managed to stay out of it, but by the end of the night
Ben had a few new scratches on his stony skin and there was almost a hurricane blowing in from the Atlantic before Steve managed to talk Thor down.

Natasha kissed Peter on each cheek before asking for a dance. Peter politely declined, mostly because of how Carol's eyes were burning.

Clint challenged Peter to a game: William Tell with a twist. Hawkeye was supposed to never miss, and Spider-Man always proved nigh impossible to hit. So Clint would get ten arrows to shoot, and all Peter had to do was not get shot. "Blunted arrows, of
course," Clint said. "But no wall-crawling, okay? Just agility." Peter ended up losing, not because Clint hit him, but because he instinctively somersaulted up the side of the wall.

Danny Rand and Luke Cage approached him together. "Carol brought something up to me when she was trying to convince us. She asked how many times Purple Man messed with me and Jess's heads, how we couldn't think something was off with you." Cage ducked
his head down. "I think I knew, and I just didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to think someone could get to you like that. You've been through enough, you know?"

Bruce Banner shook Peter's hand as he walked out, not saying a word, but at least remembering the cast this time.

Tony offered to build Peter a new suit of armor as an apology, but Peter turned him down.

Matt Murdock took Peter aside. "I know you're still upset about everything," he said. "If you want to talk, you know where to find me."

Doctor Strange approached last, as the night was winding down and most of the heroes had left. "Don't forget," he said, "I'm here if you need me."

Through it all, Peter felt a buzzing in his head, not unlike his Spider-Sense, but softer. It was like a haze over his thoughts, one that wouldn't let him collect himself.

Carol didn't leave his side all night. As everyone piled into an elevator to head back to their quarters, she squeezed his hand. "Do you want to head down, Peter?"

He turned to look at her, and his thoughts cleared long enough for another memory to flash before him. He tried to give her a smile, but knew he failed from the expression her face. "I want to, Carol, really I just…" he took a breath. "I need some time.
There's still a lot I need to get sorted."

Carol nodded. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Peter said.

She let go of his hand and headed into an elevator. He watched until the doors closed, then entered the next one. He pushed the button for the lobby.

Peter walked the distance from the Tower to his apartment. It was a long walk, but he didn't have any money for a cab and he had no interest in web-slinging.

The old wooden door groaned as he opened it, and he hung his keys on the hook next to the frame. He stared into the kitchen, at a cabinet that he almost never opened. But as he stood in the doorway, his Spider-Sense gave the smallest of tingles, and he
turned his head, only to have an entirely new sequence of memories accost his mind.

"Slick, I know that you had a plan, and you're so meticulous in your planning, but I found this in the closet and I just… well, I didn't want to wait!"

Anna Maria Marconi ran up to Peter and jumped, throwing her arms around his torso. He dropped to his knees from the unexpected weight, and as soon as her feet were back on solid ground, she thrust her left hand under his face, the shimmer there almost
blinding him.

"Yes, Peter Parker, I'll marry you!"