Hi all! I'm sorry this is so long coming! Thank you to everyone who has read or commented! I appreciate it so much.

His legs rested between the metal banisters of the fire escape and dangled off uninhibited into the air. Peter pressed the crown of his head between the bars so the two twisted rods squeezed the sides of his head. He focused on the sensation, the cold soothed his headache while the pressure dulled everything to the two points on his temples. The burning in the back of his throat weakened and his eyes, weighed down by tears he gave up trying to stop, were free to fall onto his lap.

How had it all come to this?

His voice had been so broken and distanced, but now through the haze of memory it was clear as a chime and full of disappointment.

The air swept up the alley causing goosebumps to rise on his exposed skin. The sky darkened and the stars were exposed but Peter was too lost in himself. He couldn't see how the lights shined down on the Earth, lighting the city and making it more beautiful. He couldn't see anything with his sight blurred by his tears.

He wished he was up there. Maybe if he was a part of the stars everything in his life would seem small and insignificant. Next to those burning gases he could stop being Peter. Even if he was alone like he deserved, he could belong somewhere at last.

The window squeaked and May climbed through the opening. He could hear her mumbling about sore joints and catching colds but the complaints didn't stop her from sitting down next to him, cross-legged instead of sitting with her legs through the slots. She bumped shoulders with him when he offered no greeting.

"Do you want to tell me why you came running in the apartment without giving me a hug and slamming your door?" She said with a small laugh.

Peter looked at his knees until her hand came under his chin and guided his head up. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. She wiped her thumbs under his eyes, then brushed his hair back.

"Oh, Sweetheart. I'm only joking. What happened?"

Peter whimpered and wrapped his arms around May. Like always her own arms reciprocated, firm and strong. She rubbed her hand down his back while whispering words of comfort. She held him until he couldn't cry anymore though his heart was left aching from the battles of the day and the absences that were just beginning to form.

"I lost it, May. I lost him."

Her hand stopped for a moment but she pulled him closer to her hugging him with everything she had.

"It will be okay," she said.

Peter inhaled the vanilla and reminders of his childhood from her hair as they sat on the fire escape ignoring the wind and stars, but even wrapped up in May's arms he wasn't sure anything would be okay again.

Earlier

He braced his head between his knees and stared at the tips of Julia's oxfords. Flash was pacing while the others watched.

"What the hell was that?" Flash said. "What in the actual hell was that."

"What happened?" Frank said sitting beside Peter with a hand on his shoulder. The other group had found them dazed and escorted by Mr. Osborn. His words offered congratulations to their group and farewell but his curled smile spoke differently.

Monica and Estee said a quick goodbye after exchanging numbers and they all walked out of the building in quick strides. No one talked until they were outside and once there, Flash exploded with a barrage of curses. Frank couldn't stop asking questions while Monica was on the phone with someone, her parents he thought, but her shrill tone wasn't helping anyone calm down.

The nausea wasn't going away and Peter kept his head down. Cement, people, and buildings surrounded him but Peter was floating with no tether to the earth. Not even his breathing or the sounds of his group was keeping him there. He couldn't stop thinking about and suspended in the memories of the blood dripping onto the white lab floors or the cries of the rabbit. Its small paws tensing and scrambling to get away from the robotic arms restraining it.

Julia stood in front of him, guarding him like before and handed him her water bottle.

"Thank you," He said, voice cracking.

"Peter, I know Seymour was weird when we were… well, friends, I guess, but this was something else. Did you see how he smiled?"

"Smiled at what?" Frank said.

"And that was your final entry? I mean, Jesus, that was smart but why did they have it?" Flash said ignoring Frank who had turned away from Peter and was looking at Flash for more answers since he was the most vocal out of their group.

"Stop, Flash. Can't you see he's not feeling good." Julia said not turning from her spot.

"I don't think any of us are. I feel sick now like a ate a bad Subway tuna footlong."

He continued his pacing and Peter waited for the churning feeling to pass. Julia handed him the water again before moving to sit beside him and he sipped on it trying not to listen to Frank and Flash argue about what happened.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. Her fingers were small but the light pressure seeped into his coat and he was back on solid ground again.

"Peter?" she said softly. "How did he get The Weaver formulation?"

Peter shook his head.

"Does… Well, does Mr. Stark know?" He winced, "You've been working with him, right?"

He turned to look at her and noticed the pallor of her skin and the way her hand not resting on his back was fisted on her lap.

"I don't know." He said.

"I'm sure he doesn't" She added, "But that just adds the question of how he stole it."

He looked toward the Oscorp building. The black panes of glass casted a shadow over them still.

Peter shivered and Julia moved her arm with caution around his shoulder and pulled him closer to her. He continued staring up at Oscorp but rested his head against her shoulder. His neck stiffened and Peter tried not to put too much weight on her.

Flash stepped forward so he was in front of them and they both turned to look at him.

"Look man I'm sorry, but we need to report this or something."

The nausea threatened to rise up again but Peter swallowed it down. He didn't think anyone would believe them and if they did, nothing could happen. It was five high school students against a wealthy man who had connections all throughout the city. Asking his groupmates to get involved would get them in trouble. Peter could figure it out on his own.

"I can talk to Mr. Stark. I have a meeting with him already today."

Flash looked ready to go on another rampage but a look from Julia silenced him. More questions circled around but when no answers were reached, one by one the group disbanded. Monica was the first to leave, not hanging up on the phone as she waved goodbye. Her brows furrowed as she looked at the four of them.

Frank was next as he had practice. He insisted they all text him when they got home. Flash, after more words on the subject, promised to text Julia and slipped away with a glance at Peter.

Julia sat next to him, worrying the strap of her backpack back and forth.

"Are you okay?" He knew she must blame him for everything. It was his idea to go and Seymour targeted him as well. Julia smiled and asked him the same question back, pressing the water bottle into his hands.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

A million thoughts raged out of control in his mind and he shook his head.

"I don't even care they have it, but what are they going to do with it?"

Julia screwed the cap on and weighed her words before voicing her thoughts.

"We need to fight this. There has to be some way…"

"No," Peter said without waiting and Julia sighed. "I just don't want to cause a fuss."

"It's yours Peter. You're not making a fuss and what if they are hurting more animals?"

He was the one who sighed this time.

"You're right but I'm scared. I was scared in that room and you stepped in front of Seymour and yelled at him while I did nothing. It was so badass." He smiled with closed lips at her.

"It will be okay, Peter. We'll figure out what to do. We're a team after all."

Peter nodded but after they parted as he walked to his next destination, the remnants warm feeling of Julia's fingers around his, he couldn't stop the cold pit in his stomach from seeding and he wondered, not for the first time that day if he should have just stayed at home and slept.

He exited the elevator on weak knees. The journey from Oscorp to Stark Tower hadn't been the calming walk he needed. Instead, the consequences of their outing and all sorts of different scenarios kept creeping over him. The next one progressively getting worse.

There was a voicemail from May and texts in the group chat kept chiming so he flipped his phone shut and turned it off.

Friday was quiet today only offering a small hello as he walked down the hall. He didn't have the energy to talk so he was grateful for their hallway was empty as well and for a moment Peter thought there was time to turn around and go home. He could call and cancel the meeting with Mr. Stark.

Peter turned down the hall and stopped short. Blood dripped down the window and Peter reared back. He blinked and it was gone with nothing but silver and white walls. Peter backed to the other side of the hallway and waited until his breaths evened out, not looking away from the spot on the wall.

We have an understanding with Stark Industries.

Mr. Osborn's voice coiled itself around Peter's thoughts, slick with oil and venom.

Was it true?

His stomach churned as the doors to lab two slid open. He peered in from the hallway but the room was empty again. Like every other day Peter walked into the lab but unlike those days he kept his coat and backpack on. The room settled as he sat down. It was quiet, too quiet.

He laid his head on top of his crossed arms on the table and scrunched his eyes shut. His work stayed in the drawers of the desk and documents in the computer. The images Oscorp hung just behind the lids and the rabbit's cries echoed behind Mr. Osborn's words like a warped movie soundtrack.

He squeezed his eyes tighter until black spots burned through the memories.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

After months of working with Mr. Stark he had to believe it wasn't true. There was no way Mr. Stark knew Oscorp had his project. The worked together every week! The man knew his favorite Thai order and Peter had begun to open up to him. He had begun to share himself in a way he almost never did.

What would he do if Mr. Stark gave The Weaver to someone like Norman Osborn?

Peter heard the footsteps before he saw him and sat up.

The doors automatically opened and Mr. Stark burst into the room. His normal, cocky smile was gone and was replaced with tight, pale lips. His cheeks were flushed and topped with a grimace that deepened when he saw Peter.

Peter's heart pulsed and he pushed himself to the back of his chair. The footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent room and Mr. Stark marched toward Peter.

"What were you thinking?" He said with eyes narrowed on Peter.

Peter stood up to get out of the way, the chair clattering behind him.

"Mr.- Mr. Stark?" He said.

"What the fuck where you thinking?"

His was so loud and unlike anything Peter had ever heard come from him that when the man continued forward, Peter backed away. Mr. Stark didn't stop until he stood in front of him, chest heaving. Peter felt small standing against the wall, like he was three years old again being chastised for something by May or Ben.

This was worse. He wasn't three years old and he didn't know what he did wrong.

"Do you know who I just got off the phone with? Do you?"

Peter shook his head and flushed. Mr. Stark was already talking before he could open his mouth to explain.

"Norman fucking Osborn and do you know what he had to say? No, don't even answer that. He said you and your little friends were there at Oscorp. He said you were getting a tour and that you were interested in the place. You even knew someone who worked there."

Peter flinched back and the blood drained from his face. It sounded like he was the one betraying Mr. Stark, that he was looking at Oscorp for fun.

"No…No, Mr. Stark it-it wasn't like that. I swear."

"It could have been anyone but Oscorp…" Peter shivered at the tone in his voice.

Mr. Stark saw his movement and grimaced again, turning away and pacing until he stopped at the desk. Peter watched as he bent over, hands braced on either side of him. His back rose and fell in rapid bursts.

Peter's mind spun. Mr. Stark was yelling. He was blaming Peter.

He remembered the first night he stayed after one of their lab days. They ate pizza together and Mr. Stark insisted on taking him home until Peter declined and went on his way belly full. He remembered walking home and wondering why this legend, why Tony Stark had invited him to stay. He wondered why Mr. Stark was even investing an interest in him at all.

He froze at that particular thought and a filter lifted from his eyes. Peter began to inspect their interactions from the moment they met. How there always seemed to be so many questions and how Seymour and Oscorp got ahold of The Weaver.

He was just an investment.

The special meeting where Mr. Stark already knew everything about him, working together on their side project, and all the dinners and movies. Every single interaction was just to get close to Peter; to use him.

It was like Sam Carlson over again and waking up in the hospital to find May gone, to find any hope faded and realize it was fake to begin with.

Peter swallowed and stepped forward. He kept his voice low and beseeched the anguish in his chest, the itching in the back of his throat, silent.

"What do you want from me?"

Mr. Stark's back stiffened and he turned around with fists clenched at his side. Hard eyes stared at him and Peter stared back, steeling his resolve and readying to hear the bad news.

"They know what they are doing. You shouldn't mess around there. It's dangerous." He said and Peter continued staring, waiting for the rest.

Mr. Stark ran a hand through his hair and instead of looking strong, his back hunched under an invisible weight. Peter thought he saw a flicker of darkness in his eyes but it was gone before he could focus on it.

"I can't work on the project anymore, Peter." He said in the end. It was the use of his name and not his nickname, kid, which he'd grown to love that took his breath away. Peter's heart stopped and he took another step back, his head shaking back in forth slowly.

So, it was true.

He should have known from the beginning working with Mr. Stark was too good to be true. He had let his hopes get away from him and now it was too late.

Mr. Stark turned away and Peter couldn't help the sniffle escape him.

A small part of him urged him to explain and tell Mr. Stark what happened, but the larger part, the self that was bleeding and wounded wouldn't let him. It wouldn't matter either way. Mr. Stark had made his choice and he was just Peter. He couldn't do anything about it.

If there was anything he was good at it was leaving when someone didn't want him. He walked around Mr. Stark, hoping the man would stop him but he made it free to the door.

Peter stopped on the brink of the hallway and turned his head back making out the edge Mr. Stark's head, facing the window out.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." He said and walked out of the lab, running down the stairs, out of the building and Mr. Stark's life.

*hides away* I'm so sorry.

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