A/N: Hello fellow humans!

Welp, my life is a god damn mess right now. Can't really get into it, but suffice to say, I am stressed. I wish I could say that I can't wait for Thanksgiving break, buuuuutttt, it's not going to be a break for me. It's going to be a catch-up-on-your-homework-fest.

Anyways, happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the States, and happy Wednesday night/Thursday to everyone else!

Let's go on with the story!

'To whom this may concern:

Hello, my name is Peter Parker. About a month ago, I had the honor of meeting Tony Stark-'

Delete delete delete.

'Dear Mr. Stark,

Hey, it's Peter Parker. You know...the kid you met over a month ago? I was kind of wondering how you're doing? Cause like I said, it's been an entire month, and I never heard from-'

'To whoever is reading this,

Hi, my name is Peter Parker. I'm Tony Stark's biological son. If someone could please remind him that he hasn't contacted me in over a month, that would be swell-'

'Mr. Stark,

It's been a month! Where the fu-'

'Dear Mr. Stark,

Please tell me where you are! You haven't contacted me in a month! Do you not want to know me? Am I not good enough for you-'

'Hey, Dad!

Just wanted to let you know that I was almost murdered about a month ago! Buuuuut you probably don't even give a shit, do you-'

'To whom this may concern:

Hello, my name is Peter Parker. I was informed by a family member a few years ago that I am Tony Stark's biological child. Mr. Stark and I have met over a month ago, and have not been in contact ever since.

I currently do not have evidence to prove that I am Tony Stark's biological child, however, attached to this email, you will find a portrait shot of myself and of Tony Stark at my age. I believe that you will find the similarities to be uncanny.

If you are still (understandably) unconvinced, I am more than willing to submit a sample of my DNA for your testing pleasure.

Thank you and have a good day,

Peter Parker.'

Peter stared at the email. He reread it three times. He sighed.

He gave him a month. An entire month. He could only take being ignored for so much time.

'They're going to delete it.' Peter thought glumly, as he reread the email. 'They're not gonna do a damn thing, and he's just going to continue to ignore me.'

The seeds of despair have grown roots at this point. They'll start leafing and blossoming if Peter didn't get an answer soon.

So, he sent the email.

And…..he immediately regretted it.

'Curtis Conners.' Peter read. 'Well, this is the right place.'

The teenager had finally remembered who this man was, after googling his name. He worked on several scientific papers with Peter's dad. They were clearly close in one way or another.

Peter took a deep breath, and glanced at Dr. Conners' office hours.

'He should be here.' He thought, as he frowned at the darkened office. 'I guess I should have sent an email, or something. Well...I guess I have time to kill.'

The teenager plopped on the floor, and pulled out his newish (it was actually super old, but it worked just fine) phone. He checked his email for the millionth time. He checked a text from Aunt May (Sorry, baby, gonna have to miss dinner again).

Once five minutes passed, he pulled out his notebook, and started to sketch out a new spidey invention.

Tracers. They'd come in a canister, similar to his webbing, compacted, yet sparse enough for only one to come out at a time. They'd vibrate at a frequency that Peter would be able to sense with his Vibrations Sight.

The teenager chewed the end of his pencil, stiffening, and holding his sketchbook close to him whenever a college student passed him.

It was almost an hour of sitting, and having older kids look at him funny, when he decided…that he'd give Conners another twenty minutes before leaving.

Peter sighed.

He wondered if those college students smelled his desperation.

It was after nine minutes, when the sound of two pairs of heavy footsteps made Peter perk up.

He quickly put his sketchbook back and stood up.

Two men turned the corner.

One was tall, blond, in a white lab coat. The other was a little younger, dark haired.

Peter stiffened as he felt his spider-senses tingle just a little.

'Huh?'

The two men paused. The older one glanced at Peter with a curious expression. The other looked completely shocked.

"I'm sorry, may I help you, son?" The older gentleman asked.

Peter cleared his throat. "Uh...hi. Are-are you Dr. Conners?"

The man tapped his chin. "Hm...I believe you have the right man. I suppose that it depends who is asking."

"Oh!" The teenager held out a hand. "Peter."

The professor shook Peter's hand with his left hand. "Nice to meet you, Peter. What can I do for you?"

"Oh-oh! I-I'm Peter Parker." The teenager stuttered out nervously. "Richard-I-He's my dad. I'm Richard Parker's son."

Almost immediately, Dr. Conners let go of Peter's hand. His eyes widened in surprise, and he took a few steps back.

"My god," The older man whispered. He examined every detail of Peter's face. "My god! It really is you! I haven't seen you since you were a toddler!"

Peter blinked. "Wait, you knew me?"

"Did I know-" Dr. Conners shook his head. He only now he seemed to remember the other man. He glanced at him. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut our conversation a bit short, Mr. Beck-"

"It's fine." The younger man replied. "It was...Ah...nice seeing you again, Curt."

He sent Peter a smile that made his spin shiver. He departed, much to Peter's relief.

Dr. Conners gestured Peter to his office. "If you will…"

"Right." Peter nodded. He entered the small office, and waited for the older man to sit down until he followed suit. His eyes darted to happy pictures of a middle aged woman, holding a small child.

"My wife, Martha." Conners explained. He tapped on the picture. "My son, Billy. He's eight."

"Right…." Peter replied. He wasn't sure how to start this.

Dr. Conners cleared his throat. His eyes darted to the window.

"I suppose, I suppose this is the best time to apologize, Peter," Dr. Conners said.

Peter gapped at the older man. "Uh…"

"When Richard and Mary died," He continued. "I should have taken you in. Your father, he was like a brother to me, and I-"

"Uh, actually-I-" The teenager shook his head. "Wait, how close were you to my dad?"

Dr. Conners blinked.

"Has...has May and Ben not mentioned me?"

Peter shook his head.

"Ah," Dr. Conners' shoulders sank. "Ah."

Silence.

"You're quite thin, Peter," Dr. Conners said. "Is it because...how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay." Peter glanced at the pictures again. "My immune systems hasn't acted up in awhile, so...yeah. I'm good."

Another pause.

The professor plucked up a pen, then put it back down.

"My apologizes, Peter," Dr. Conners said. "But if you are not here for...personal reasons, why are you here?"

Peter shifted. "Well...this is still pretty personal. It's about my dad."

"Oh?"

Peter sat back. He drummed his hand on the desk. "How...how close were you to my dad? I assumed that you guys were lab partners, or something, but…"

"Roommates." Dr. Conners replied. "College roommates. Since freshman year."

"Ah." Peter replied.

Dr. Conners studied him.

"You know," Dr. Conners said. "You don't look like Richard. You have Mary's freckles...You must take from her side of the family."

'You have no idea…'

Peter shrugged. "So...you guys were roommates. Did you work with him at Oscorp?"

Dr. Conners stiffened.

"Oscorp…" The professor shook his head. "My dear boy, that was many years ago-"

"So, you did work with him!" Peter's eyes lit up. "Can you tell me about it? What you guys did? What he was like? If-"

He paused when he noted the color drain from Conners' face.

"Oh, I'm afraid I cannot talk about my former work," Dr. Conners said. "I had to sign an NDA, you see. But, if you'd like me to talk about your parents, Peter, than yes, I have many memories of them."

The teenager hesitated.

'Well, that makes this investigation a bust.' Peter thought. 'But memories of my parents...I don't really hear about that.'

"I...sure...I'd love-"

His phone rang.

It was Gwen.

"-Ah...another time, if that's okay." Peter nervously scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't expect to stay here for too long, so…"

"Oh, it is quite alright, Peter." The man quickly scribbled a number down. He handed the paper to the teenager. "I appreciate your visit, Peter."

"You, too, sir." They shook hands.

It took Peter twenty minutes on his bus to realize two things:

Dr. Conners only had one arm.

'WAIT, WHAT DID HE MEAN THAT HE SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ME IN?!'

"Took you long enough, Petey." Gwen raised an eyebrow at Peter, as he rushed into her bedroom.

"Sorry." Peter grabbed a beanbag and dragged it to her desk. "There was an accident, traffic was awful-"

"And your visit with that doctor guy took longer than expected?"

"Yeah…." Peter sat down. "He was chatting with some guy before. Took, like, an hour to even talk to him."

"Huh." Gwen twirled a pen as Peter pulled out some sandwiches from his bag. "Are you sure that we should be keeping this stuff from Liz and Harry?"

Peter paused.

"No," He replied. He frowned. "I just...I don't want them to be put in any more danger than they already are."

Gwen chewed her lip, and accepted the sandwich.

"They'll be so angry when they find out." Gwen said.

Peter sighed.

Gwen wasn't supposed to find out about Conners. But out of all of Peter's friends, she was the one who knew how to get any secret out of him. She just knew him that well.

They just...had a different relationship than their other friends. Sharing the same illness did that to you.

'She'd probably be able to find out about my secret identity if she wanted to.'

A scary thought that had occurred to him more than once.

"So, what was Conners like?" Gwen frowned at her computer.

Peter frowned. "Weird. Definitely weird."

"Define 'weird'."

The brunette unwrapped his sandwich. "Nervous. Blunt."

"Sounds like you."

"Haha." Peter tugged off a bit of bread and popped it in his mouth. "He said that he couldn't tell me anything."

Gwen paused. "So, that was a bust?"

"For our investigation? Yes." Peter glanced at the blond. "But...for personal reasons? No."

The girl glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

"He knew my dad, Gwen." Peter explained. "I was thinking...Well...Maybe I could bring Eddie over to him...I mean, if he knew my parents, he had to know Eddie's too...And we can talk. You know?"

Gwen's face softened. "Yeah, I know."

Then, her expression became more neutral. "Uh...speaking of Eddie…"

"Are you going to tell him? What we're up to?" Gwen stared at him.

"It depends how involved his parents are in this situation." Peter replied.

Gwen frowned at him. "They're most likely very involved. Your dads were partners, right?"

Peter chewed his lip.

"This whole situation," He said slowly. "Is very sketchy. If-if our dads were onto something that might affect how Eddie might view his dad…"

"Pete," Gwen touched his shoulder. "I understand that you want to protect us, but...If Eddie's dad is involved, he needs to know."

Peter stared at the floor.

"How would you feel if he kept something like that from you?" The blond pushed.

"Angry." Peter admitted.

Gwen nodded.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"If Uncle Ed is involved," Peter said. "I'll come clean to Eddie."

Gwen relaxed. She nodded.

The boy decided to change the subject.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Hm? Oh...I'm okay. I'm glad I finally have something to do that isn't homework related."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Wait. Hold up. You mean to tell me that nerds don't like doing homework all day?"

"Believe it or not, no." Gwen grinned, and opened up her own sandwich. "We actually have other things that we'd rather be doing."

"Like RPGs?" Peter guessed.

Gwen sighed. "And books. And tv. God, I've been so bored that I've been watching reality tv. It's that bad."

"Well, you'll be feeling better in a few months, then you can be bored at school."

"I'll be living the dream." Gwen grinned. She rested her head on Peter's shoulder. "I really can't wait to take your place as top of the class."

"We'll see about that." The teenager replied.