Peter's first initial thought's regarding New York were noisy, grimy, and just as despicable as he had heard growing up.

He had been given a pretty decent-sized room on the upper levels of the Avengers tower with a balcony overlooking the city.

"You'll love the view," Tony Stark had said when he first showed him the room. "You can see most of the city from up here!"

so of course, Peter not ever really experiencing the world outside of the base he grew up in, was curious. he had to say what he saw was not as impressive as he would have liked.

new york was horrid, with those wretched four-wheeled contraptions blaring their horns all the time. The streets and sidewalks appeared so utterly crowded that he thought that somebody like him might have been squished between the masses of bodies. He was in no hurry to leave the tower even if he could.

he could hardly see anything because of the buildings, which blocked anything worth admiring. what was so great about buildings? they sort of sucked the life out of the atmosphere and made everything look so...dull.

At least the hydra base was located in the middle of nowhere, where there were rolling green hills and miles of country. He would admire the beauty of it all. It took the edge off the stress.

So civilization was a bust, so Peter decided it was best to get his bearings around an unfamiliar space. Don't get it wrong, Peter had a gut feeling that none of the Avengers meant him any harm, but he couldn't be too comfortable, especially after all those things he had been told about them, how controversial they were. They could be trying to butter him up to wring information out of him like a sponge. They could be just as bad as Hydra if not worse.

Peter didn't want to rely on them or Hydra for that matter, but he was alone in different territory with scattered memories and scattered morals. he needed something to grasp onto for the time being. Something to keep him stable.

Using his abilities, Peter snuck out of his room by crawling on the ceiling as silently as possible. It didn't look like anybody was around the area, but he still wanted to be careful. He traveled along with the ceiling until he reached the end of the long hallway. The tower was so white and pristine, it was impressive.

Peter dropped down from the ceiling and looked at the symbols hanging above the elevator doors.

What floor should he poke around first? Perhaps' he needed to find some kind of archive, that way he could dig up some stuff about the Avengers to see if they were truly trustworthy.

Peter pressed the down button and almost immediately the elevator doors slid open.

He stepped inside and froze when he saw all the numbered buttons that represented each floor. So many to choose from, so little time.

He randomly pressed a number, 4, and nearly tipped over when the elevator began to descend each story with alarming speed. He wondered if taking the stairs next time would be worth it.

When the elevator finally jerked to a stop, Peter's stomach was fluttering wildly like he had swallowed a bunch of live butterflies. It was an odd feeling that made him tremble, but wasn't necessarily bad either. Peter even smiled a bit to himself at the funny sensation, then as quick as it came it was gone.

When the doors slid open Peter nearly fainted.

The door had opened revealing an entire floor that was utilized as a magnificent laboratory, not like the medical bay he had woken up in, but a full-blown laboratory with beautiful equipment, and tech that he had only ever dreamed of seeing. It felt wrong to stand here, like he was breaking every rule in the book.

He stepped out of the elevator, marveling at it all. Walking through the lab barefoot in his white baggy pajamas and shirt. It was a size too big so it was slipping off his shoulder.

Turning around In a circle to see everything, Peter almost cried. He had seen equipment like this in similar labs, but they were strictly forbidden to anybody without authorization, so he could never use it. He found it interesting though how people used these machines to create brand new substances or materials that could do things people could not. He wanted to know if he too could do that, but unfortunately, that was not a priority where he's from.

Peter looked through the glass lens of a familiar tool he read about in a manual once. It was called a microscope, you could see things up close with it.

There were no slides underneath the microscope so all Peter saw was a blurry image of his eyelashes, but it was still incredible nonetheless. He chuckled, the sound was weird to him in the echoing lab, but it felt good at the same time. He ran his fingers along the microscope, caressing it. He could hardly believe he was actually touching this. Was it really as fascinating as he imagined it to be? Hydra discouraged anything done simply for selfish pleasure.

Next to the microscope was a computer set up with a bunch of symbols he didn't understand. It must be coding, the only thing he figured made sense.

"It's nice isn't it?" A raspy voice said.

Peter quickly turned around, his fist pulled back ready to swing at whoever was in his way, but hesitated when he saw a sensible-looking man with glasses and a long white coat leaning against a desk across from him, smiling. He looked familiar.

"Hey there," the man greeted. "Nice to see you up and about."

"Who are you?"

"You hit your noggin or something?" Bruce asked, tapping the top of his head lightly to emphasize, but when he saw Peter's steel gaze he let his hand drop in a serious manner. "Dr. Banner," he greeted holding out his hand. Peter looked at the hand with a baffled look on his face.

"You're supposed to -uh, shake it," Dr. Bruce Banner said. When Peter still didn't move, Bruce grabbed the boy's wrist and awkwardly eased his hand into his own, shaking it up and down with a goofy grin on his face. "There you go," Bruce said letting his hand drop.

"Your Dr. Bruce Banner?" Peter inquired. "The green big dude?"

"Oh, you mean Hulk?" Bruce asked. "Nah, I wouldn't say we're one in the same, but in a way...yeah sort of."

"You don't look like a big green monster," Peter pointed out.

Bruce looked taken aback by this. "Hey, he's not a monster! Is he big? Yes. Is he green? Yeah, but you might not want to let the other guy here you say that."

"Your odd," Peter said.

"I could say the same to you," Bruce replied. He pointed up. "What's with that whole freaky ceiling thing where you kind of crawl around without falling? It kind of defies the laws of gravity and a bunch of other laws, including Newtons."

"Who's Newton?"

"Nevermind." He sighed.

Peter shrugged. "I've always been able to do these things. Crawl walls, punch through metal, things like that."

"But, you don't remember how you got this way?"

"What way?" Peter asked. The way the doctor had said it, made it sound like there was something wrong with him.

Bruce shook his head, shooeing the matter away. Instead, he switched to a lighter topic of discussion. "You know it was me who fixed you up after that beating? Well, actually, you did heal pretty fast on your own."

"Oh," was all Peter managed. He could still feel the bandages squeezing his torso, but thanks to his fast healing, most of the pain was gone and now he only had a couple of bruises to show for it.

"Here," Bruce said, walking towards the microscope Peter was just admiring. When Peter didn't move, Bruce motioned encouragingly for him to come over.

Bruce picked up a clear glass slide from a large rack and placed it underneath the scope. He used a little knob on the side to adjust it, then stepped aside holding his hand out as if ushering and elderly woman to pass by, giving Peter permission to look.

Peter thought he might pinch himself, but managed to fight the urge, as he peered into the glass once more.

He jerked away in surprise, but another nod from the doctor got him to peer once again at the little floating specimens.

"Red blood cells," Bruce said. "That stuff is what's running through your very veins."

"Are they alive?"

"Yes and no," Bruce said. "You see they have a specific function that differs from the rest of your body, and little things called organelles.Cells can indeed reproduce, and most times we do refer to them as living organisms, but a couple of your red blood cells dying aren't really like a big deal. I personally don't refer to them as living, but you wouldn't be incorrect if you said that they were."

"It's amazing."

"Science is pretty amazing," Bruce said.

After a moment of Peter peering at the blobs of red, he turned to the doctor with a troubled look on his face.

"Dr. Banner," he said, "What's SHILED going to do with me?"

"How do you mean?'

"I don't remember much," Peter admitted. "But I remember hurting people, good people. I'm worried that SHEILD and the Avengers are just a glorified version of Hydra and that it'll all just be the same here. I don't know much about right and wrong, but I know that I must have done some bad things, and I know that Director Fury thinks I'm too dangerous. So what's going to happen? Are you gonna lock me up?"

"No," Bruce said softly. "Nobody's going to lock you up, and we're not like Hydra. Although actions do speak louder than words so you'll just have to wait us out and see for yourself. But, Fury was interested in giving you a choice."

"Choice?"

"I don't know if I'm the one who should be telling you this, but if you wanted, you'd be taken to a SHEILD base, given an education, trained properly, and you wouldn't be a danger to anybody. Or you could remain here, under the watchful eye of the best agent we have. You could harness your full potential of your power, find out more about yourself if you wanted, and possibly be able to live a more normal life if all goes well, and if you learn how to control yourself."

"Could I learn more about my parents?" Peter asked. It was the first time he had said those words in a while, but for some reason he felt his trust for the Avengers growing. SHEILD, not as much. He could still rember dreams of what he thought was his mother. he could smell the scent of her hair, and hear the ragged breaths she would take befoer there was nothing but Hydra. The only family he knew, the family he hated, the family he longed to escape, but was bounded by loyalty and this unquenchable thirst for validation. He didn't want to be alone, but he was.

"We could try if you'd liked," Bruce said. He bit his lip and Peter wondered if he actually knew something about his parents, but he was too emotionally and mentally exhausted to read to much Into it.

"Who's your best agent?" He asked.

"You've met her," Bruce smiled. "Mrs.Natasha Romanoff is the best we have, and she offered to keep an eye on you so that you wouldn't have to spend your days rotting on another military base."

"She tried to kill me!"

"You tried to kill her first."

"That's!-" Peter faltered when he realized that this was in fact the case. "True," he admitted with a scowl.


Fast forward another couple of weeks later, and so far the Avengers showed no signs of hostility or suspicious behavior towards him. weeks had passed since they had apprehended him, and he figured Hydra would be tracking him by now, ready to kill him for deserting. But even though he tried so hard not to trust the Avengers so readily and stupidly, he couldn't help but find himself enjoying his newfound freedom.

No dark hallways, no more grueling missions or cruel punishments. Nobody was screaming in his ear anymore, and nobody was showing him graphic videos of the torment the Avengers supposedly inflicted on people. He was confused at first at this freedom. He didn't know what to spend his days doing. He didn't even know what he liked, so he spent his first couple of days in the lab watching Dr.Banner and Mr.Stark tinker with their projects.

He had gotten new clothes that were different from the uniforms he wore every day at the Hydra base. He got short and long-sleeved shirts with comfortable-fitting blue jeans, and new sneakers. He also found out that he indeed did have an interest. He was really into science and technology. He even stole some of Bruce's books so he could understand more, and would read them underneath the covers of his blanket.

He tried sleeping in his bed, but it was too fluffy and bouncy and made him feel like he might sink, so he liked to curl up on the marble floor with his sheet and pillows to sleep.

He hadn't seen much of the Avengers around though. They seemed like very busy people and were always in and out, so the automated AI system, FRIDAY had become his companion and good friend more often than naught. He mainly liked having somebody to talk to when he was alone because the emptiness of the tower made him feel like he was back in that place.

When the Avengers were around they often were just as busy, working or training. But, there were rare moments too. Like when Clint Barton had let him hold his bow and showed him how to hold it properly.

On the 14th day, he saw Natasha again. She had woken him up quite early in the morning, and he hadn't really expected to see her. He hadn't seen or heard much of her since the first meeting. only little moments here and there.

"Hi," Peter muttered sluggishly.

"Hey kid," she said. "Breaks over. Get up, it's time to put in the work."

Peter was nervous at first. He figured training would be just as grueling and bone-crushing as before. It was the only training he knew. But, training with Natasha, while difficult and painful, wasn't too bad. He was able to work up a sweat but, he was allowed breaks and water and time to rest when he needed it.

They started with pull-ups, and did about five hours of workout routines until Peter's arms and legs felt weak beneath him. Natasha hadn't said much to him then either. Just telling him what they would be doing, and correcting him.

Wasn't she the one who offered to watch him and train him? He didn't even see her often, not that he wanted to, especially not after getting electrocuted. He was still bitter about that. But, he felt like it was an odd thing to do, volunteer to mentor the enemy hired to kill you and then not say a word to him until the day of training.

After training, they ate breakfast in silence. It was surprisingly good. But then, of course, a dreaded moment came to pass. Apparently, people his age were required to do schooling. He hadent stepped foot outside the tower yet, and wasnt allowed to until the extent of his powers were relized, so he was tutored by Bruce Banner. Tony Stark was a bit affronted when Nick appointed Bruce thinking that the director was insulting his intellect, but Fury was not saying that Tony Stark had no smarts, he was saying that he had no patience.

It was the frustrating mathematics that made Peter wish to be back at HYDRA. Natasha would lounge about in the sitting area when they worked, observing their session with a plain face.

They talked again the next day.

"Try not to loosen your guard," Natasha said circling him in the training room as he took up a fighting stance. She kicked his foot so that his legs were parallel to his shoulders. "Tuck your cin in, and when you move don't let your guard down, or else your opponent will find your weak spot and hit you where it hurts."

"was that what that electric doo hicky was?" Peter muttered, referring to the widow bite.

"Throw a punch," she instructed, ignoring him.

Peter did as instructed.

"Not bad," she hummed, "but could be improved. You want to kind of bend your knee so that you could put some power behind it." She demonstrated slowly, Peter following suit.

"Like this?"

"Yes, excellent" she nodded. "You're a quick study."

"Agent Romanoff?"

"Skip the formalities kid," Natasha said. "Just call me Natasha."

"Alright...Natasha," Peter said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Straighten your back," she instructed. "Sure."

"Why are you doing this?" Peter asked.

"What?"

"You know...helping me even though I'm the enemy," Peter said. "Why would you want to do anything for me after the things I've done?"

Natasha stopped circling, her gaze drifting off into somewhere Peter couldn't follow. How could she explain it to him? the overwhelming guilt that consumed her every day? the life that she had now that she couldn't ever deserve?

"My job is to help people," Natasha said. "So I do."

"Even people who don't deserve it?"

Natasha shrugged. "Why not?"

Peter frowned as he threw another punch. "I was reading through some files the other day," Peter began.

Natasha scoffed. "How'd you even get into the archives?"

"I crawl on ceilings and have been trained to be a spy," Peter said. "You do the math. Anyway, I read about the things SHEILD does, and the things you guys did in the past and...it's actually pretty great."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "You use your powers to help people, and stop bad guys without having to hurt anybody else, unless you have to of course. I thought Hydra might have been right about you, that you were all terrorist masked as these hero's. They blamed you for my misforunes, and I thought Hydra was the goodguys. I thought that they just werent afraid to get their hands dirty in order to obtain peace, that's why they trained me so hard, but when I read about what you guys did, I realized that I might have been wrong."

"Really now?"

He nodded empathetically. "How you were willing to risk your life to stop ultron from hurting those people. Weather it's big or small you always help and Hydra only knows how to hurt. All they ever do is make me hurt, and I don't want to do that anymore."

"Tighten your guard," Natasaha said, circling once more. "What are you trying to say?"

"Maybe I could do this," he said. "Make up for all of my mistakes and all the people I've hurt in the past. I could use my powers to help. I could be like the Avngers. I could be like you. A real hero, not the kind Hydra made me think I was."

"It's not a job for the faint of heart," Natasha said. "You have to be willing to make sacrifices and hard choices to protect people."

"I figured as much," Peter nodded. "But now that I do have a choice, I want to protect people. I deserve anything bad that comes my way anyhow. I have to atone for everything Hydra made me do, they didn't give me a choice, but I still did it."

"You really wanna be an Avengers kid?"

Peter stopped punching for a moment, thinking it over. He nodded. "I was willing to hurt people to save my own hide, I should be willing to fight for the people I've caused damage to."

Natasha resisted the urge to pat his shoulder, to comfort him. She wanted to tell him she could relate, that the reason she was doing this was to atone for her own mistakes.

Instead, she nodded. "Alright then," she said. "Then we better get to work."

"You mean I can be an Avenger?"

"I didn't say that," she said. "You're a freaking kid, not to mention the fact that you grew up in a Hydra base, I'm sure people arent gonna love that, and I know you don't know much about the outside world, but normal kids don't do these kinds of things, I don't want to rob you of this chance you have now that you've escaped Hydra...but maybe when your older and Fury approves-"

But she didn't finish her sentence before Peter quickly dropped to the ground, and begin doing push-ups.

She raised a brow. "Watcha' doing kid?"

"Getting strong," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If I wanna make up for everything, I've got to put in work, as you told me."

Natasha let a smile grace her features at the boys determined expression. To think only a few weeks ago he had been a guarded boy, confused by Hydras' role in his life. If only he knew the truth about what he was, and what Hydra did, but now wasn't the time. He still was a guarded boy, broken. But he was strong, brave, and even though they were both weary of each other, she was determined to get him out.

"Come on Agent Romanoff," Peter hissed. "Stop slacking."

"Watch yourself kiddo, or else I'll body slam you until you go slack."

If only she had had more time to help him.