A/N: This story is going to be AU. It's going to follow Peter's story as Spider-man throughout the MCU with a different twist. Also, this will be a Hurt/Comfort story. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for my own plots that I will twist in later. All characters/ cannon things belong to Marvel.

—

January 11, 2016

A small radioactive spider crawled down the wall, finally free of its confinement.

It crept slowly down, down, down until it found something. The thing moved and was relatively tall, with nice bedding for the spider on the top of it.

The spider ignored this though and went down. Down the neck and into the sweatshirt. Down the back and to the hip.

And right above the hip it sunk its teeth in.

It felt a sudden hard object swat and squash it. Then the spider was no more.

The teen boy at the back of the tour group in Oscorp labs swatted at the sudden sting right above his hip. He then thought no more of it and went about his day.

—

6 Months Later

Peter Parker walked down the street, earbuds in his ears, a slight limp in his step. His day had gone really well. He had nailed his Algebra test and he had just found a thrown away DVD player on the side of the road that he knew he could spruce up. But his hip had started to hurt in gym class. He hadn't noticed, but it had been sore for a while. He had assumed that he tweaked it the wrong way on one of his nights as Spider-man. He had every intention of telling May when he saw a crazy cool car parked right outside his building that distracted him.

"Hey May," he said, swinging his backpack off of his shoulder.

"Hey! How was school today?" his aunt asked.

"Okay. There's this crazy car parked outside," he said as he noticed who was sitting on the couch.

"Hello, Mr. Parker," the man in question said.

"Um…what?…What are you doing?…Hey!….I'm..I'm..I'm..I'm Peter," he stammered.

"Tony," the man calmly stated.

"What are you…what are you…what are you doing here?" Peter tried to make this seem normal in front of his aunt, but inside he was sinking with dread. The only possible reason he could think of for the Tony Stark to be in his living room was because his secret identity had been discovered.

"It's about time we met. You've been getting my emails, right?" the man winked and gave Peter a stern look.

"Yeah…yeah," Peter responded, trying to sound confident as he looked first at the man, and next to his aunt, who didn't seem to suspect that anything was off.

"Regarding the…." he trailed off.

"You didn't even tell me about the grant," May said, a questioning look on her face.

"About the grant," Peter filled in smoothly.

"The September Foundation," the man said. Peter could tell that he needed to follow along with the man's story.

"Right."

"Yeah. Remember when you applied?"

"Yeah," Peter responded hesitantly.

"And now we're in business," the man gave Peter an intense stare.

May looked at him with "What the heck" stamped all over her face. "You didn't even tell me anything. What's up with that? Are you keeping secrets from me now?"

"I just know how much you love surprises so I thought I would let you know…" he tried to say smoothly, but then it occurred to him that he had no idea what grant they were talking about. "Wait, what did I apply for?"

"I'm here to hash it out," the man replied.

"Okay, hash it out."

"I can't believe that she's someone's aunt."

May gave him a weird look. "Yeah, well, we come in all shapes and sizes, you know."

"This walnut date loaf is exceptional."

"Yeah, let me just stop you there," Peter said, holding his hand up. He knew Mr. Stark was just trying to butter May up. Any walnut date loaf that she tried to make ended up horrible, no matter how much she claimed it tasted just like how her mother used to make it.

"Yeah."

"Has this grant like got money involved, or whatever? No?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's pretty well funded, look who you're talking to. Can I have five minutes with him?" Mr. Stark asked May.

"Sure," she responded, not seeing anything more than a benefactor wanted to speak to his potential beneficent.

Peter was still concerned that he would find out about Spider-man, but now he thought it could actually do with a grant he knew he didn't apply for. Maybe a teacher signed up for him?

As soon as Mr. Stark entered his bedroom, he spat out the walnut date loaf into the trash can. Peter couldn't blame him, but he was too preoccupied in his concern that he would be discovered.

"As walnut date loafs go, that wasn't bad," Mr. Stark said, beginning to poke around his room, "Ooh, look what we have here. Retro tech, huh? Thrift store? Salvation Army?"

"The dumpster, actually," Peter filled in, shifting nervously.

"You're a dumpster diver." Mr. Stark's face held no option for argument.

"I was…." Peter started to explain, then thought better of it. "Look, I definitely didn't apply for your grant."

"Nah-uh. Me first."

Peter sighed nervously, "Okay."

"Quick question of the rhetorical variety: that's you, right?" he said, holding up a hologram of a YouTube video of Spider-man stopping a bus.

"Um, no." Peter said matter-of-factly. "What do you…what do you mean?"

"Um, yeah," Mr. Stark responded, looking Peter straight in the eye. "Look at you go. Wow! Nice catch! Three thousand pounds, forty miles an hour. That's not easy. You've got mad skills."

"That's, that's all on YouTube, though," Peter said quickly, trying to cover for himself. "I mean, that's where you found it. Cause you know, that's all fake. It's all on the computer. It's like that video.."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You mean like those UFOs over Phoenix?"

"Exactly!" Peter said, and the next thing he knew, Mr. Stark had found his spider suit in the air vent.

He quickly jumped and hid it in his closet, casually leaning against the wall, hoping against hope that Mr. Stark would drop the matter.

"So. You're the Spider-ling. Crime fighting spider. You're Spider-boy?"

Peter folded his arms and tried not to roll his eyes at the ridiculous titles Mr. Stark came up with. He was crushed. His secret identity needed to remain a secret, and now Iron Man knew who he was! No one could know, that's why he had told no one. A secret is always safest if it is kept by one person.

He sighed. "Spider-man."

"Not in that onesie you're not."

"It's not a onesie," Peter responded, offended. "Believe this or not, but I was actually having a really good day today, you know Mr. Stark? Didn't miss my train, this perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there, and Algebra test- nailed it."

"Who else knows? Nobody?" Mr. Stark asked, an intent look on his face.

Peter leaned over and shook his head, "Nobody."

"Not even your unusually attractive aunt?"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Peter insisted, "If she knew, she would freak out, and when she freaks out, I freak out…"

"You know what I think is really cool? This webbing," Mr. Stark said, tossing it to him, "The tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?"

"I did," Peter responded, tossing the webbing into his closet.

"Climbing the walls? How're you doing that? Adhesive gloves?"

"It's a, long story."

"Lordy!" Mr. Stark exclaimed, holding Peter's black googles up to his eyes, "Can you even see in these? Whoa!"

"Yes! Yes, I can see in those!" Peter insisted, taking his suit away from the billionaire. Even though it was simple and he had to dig through the garbage to get all of the pieces, it was his suit. He created it and he was proud to wear it. "It's just that, when whatever happened happened, my senses have been dialed to eleven. There's, there's just way too much input, so they just kind of help me focus."

"You're in dire need of an upgrade," Mr. Stark said, a sort of judgmental look on his face, "Systemic, top to bottom. Counterpoint restoration. That's why I'm here."

Peter sat down on his bed, looking the billionaire in the eye. He didn't quite know if he could trust the man yet. He thought that if any Avenger or other power knew who he was, they would want to stop him, not support him. This was a situation he had not mentally prepared for.

As he sat, his hip twinged painfully. He adjusted so that he would be more comfortable. He really should remember to tell May about it.

"Why are you doing this?" Mr. Stark asked him. He looked back, confused.

"I gotta know," Mr. Stark insisted, "What's your M.O.? What gets you out of that twin bed in the morning?"

Peter sighed. If he was going to explain, he may as well go all in.

"Because I've been me my whole life, and I've had these powers for six months. I read books, I build computers. And yeah, I'd love to play football. But I couldn't then, so I shouldn't now."

"Sure, cause you're different," Mr. Stark nodded.

"Exactly. But I can't tell anybody that, so I'm not," Peter took a deep breath. "When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you."

"So you want to look out for the little guy, you want to do your part? Make the world a better place, all that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Peter agreed, "Just looking out for the little guy. That's what it really is." He tried to convince Mr. Stark and himself to allow him to continue to do what he knew was right. He needed to do it. He had a responsibility to do it. He had no idea what Iron Man would do with him if he disagreed, though.

Mr. Stark stood and slowly walked towards his bed. "I'm going to sit here, so you move the leg."

Peter tried not to wince and he shifted his leg and hip to make room for the billionaire.

Mr. Stark put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Got a passport?" he asked.

"Uh, no, I don't, I don't even have a driver's license."

"You ever been to Germany?"

"No."

"Oh, you'll love it."

Peter looked at Mr. Stark incredulously. "I can't go to Germany," he insisted.

"Why?"

"I got…" Peter tried to think why, "…homework," he finished.

Mr. Stark shook his head. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"I'm being serious!" Petter argued, "I can't just drop out of school!"

"It might be a little dangerous, so better tell aunt hottie I'm taking you…" Peter shot Mr. Stark's hand with his webs before he could exit the room.

"Don't tell Aunt May."

"Alright Spider-man," Mr. Stark nodded, "Get me out of this."

"Sorry."

As soon as he had removed the webbing, the two exited the room together.

"How's it going?" May asked them.

"Great," Mr. Stark replied, "so great in fact, that I want to officially invite your nephew to a September Foundation retreat I'm putting together this weekend for all the beneficiaries. You know, just a little get-to-know-you for all those who made it."

"What do you think of that, Peter?" May asked, not taking her eyes off of him.

Peter stammered a little, "That's sounds gr…great, thanks Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark clapped his hands in front of him. "Great, now that that's settled. I'll get Happy Hogan, my driver to pick you up here Friday after school?"

"Okay," Peter replied, still flustered that the man knew his identity and wanted him to come to Germany for…something.

—

Peter hit the ground hard. He had just webbed up the really big guy just like the walking thingies in Empire Strikes Back. He felt a hand on his wrist and struggled. He did not want to be attacked.

"Same side! Guess who? Hi," he heard Mr. Stark say.

He took a deep sigh a relief once his brain registered who it was. "Oh, hey man," he said, relaxing against the pavement. "Oh, that was scary."

"You're done, alright?" Mr. Stark said.

Peter blinked. "What? I'm good, I'm fine!"

"Stay down."

"I gotta get him back!" Peter insisted.

"You're going home or I'll call Aunt May!" Mr. Stark said adamantly, "You're done!" And he flew off.

"Mr. Stark, wait!" Peter cried, trying to get up, "I'm not, I'm not!" Then he felt an extreme soreness in his head, ribs, and hip. "Okay, I'm done," he said, lying down on the pavement.

—

A/N: This is my first Hurt/Comfort fanfic for any fandom. I love reading them, but the reason that I've never written one before is because I strive for accuracy in my stories but have extreme medical phobia. The amount of detailed research I would have to do to write a good Hurt/Comfort story would normally be too much for me. That being said, the reason I've written this is partially because such a story did not exist (to my liking) and also to help me survive my biology class without throwing up. Please excuse any inaccuracies on my part, I'm doing my best. I'm not a doctor or a medical expert. All my information comes from my basic biology class that I can barely stand and the internet. Thank you for your understanding!

I'm sorry that this chapter is probably boring because it's literally of scenes that everyone has seen a million times, but I think it is necessary for background and character development. The story will get going within the next two chapters.