Sins of the Fathers

by geekymoviemom

Tony Stark would never describe his relationship with his father as anything other than difficult. So what would possess him to agree to become the guardian of some random kid from Queens? Peter Parker lost his parents when he was barely old enough to remember them. But when tragedy strikes again during the Stark Expo, it's none other than Iron Man, his hero, who rescues him.

21. Chapter 21

I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! :) Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews!

As always, a huge thank-you to my sounding board and prereader, stjohn27. :)

---

"I still can't believe you got to go visit Wakanda!" exclaimed Ned as he and Peter meandered down the school hallway to their lockers. "Like, I always thought Wakanda wasn't even a real place. You know, like Atlantis, or that Nidavellir place that you sometimes read about in your mythology books."

"Shh, Ned!" Peter hissed as he elbowed Ned in the side. "Keep your voice down, dude! I'm not really supposed to talk about it!"

"Man, what I wouldn't give to even get a glimpse of it though!" Ned said as they arrived at Peter's locker. "I bet it was beautiful."

"Yeah, it sure was," Peter replied wistfully. "In more ways than one. And the tech there… I mean, wow! It was like everything you could dream up with your wildest imagination, and even some that you couldn't! Shuri and I even built real-life lightsabers!"

Ned's eyes went so wide that Peter was surprised they didn't pop out of his head. "Are you serious?" he squeaked. "You actually built a real-life lightsaber? Like, fully functional and everything?"

"Shh!" Peter admonished, glancing anxiously around at the surrounding students. "Yeah, man, we built two of 'em. And they were even better than the movie versions."

"Did they even make the cool noises?" Ned asked, completely ignoring Peter's warning to lower his voice. "Because you know it's not technically a lightsaber unless it makes the proper noises."

"Yeah, they made the noises, Ned," Peter said with a grin. Reaching his locker, he started dialing the combination, leaning closer so he could whisper. "They were seriously some of the coolest things I've ever seen. At least until my dad and the king made us stop using them."

"Why'd they do that?"

Peter shrugged. "I guess they were afraid we were gonna get hurt or something, I dunno."

"Oh," replied Ned. "Yeah, I suppose getting your hand cut off or something would've hurt a bit. And then they probably would've arrested you for putting their princess in danger. Even if it was her idea, you still could've been thrown into a dungeon or something. Do they have a dungeon in Wakanda? I bet they do."

"I'm not sure I would've been arrested if she'd've cut off my hand, dude, no matter how much it hurt," Peter said. "And I didn't see a dungeon there, but we were only there for about a week, so we didn't get to explore the whole palace."

"Man, dude, I'm so jealous!" whined Ned. "It's just not fair that you get to go to all these cool, secret places just 'cause your dad is Iron Man! How come I can't come with you guys one of these times?"

Peter grimaced, remembering all the reasons why they'd headed to Wakanda in the first place. The presidential order turning the Avengers over to Secretary Ross had been kept a secret from the public, so aside from a few select others, no one outside of Avengers Tower knew about what had gone down at the Raft. And while Dad had told Peter that he could tell Ned about visiting Wakanda, Peter wasn't allowed to tell him anything about why they went there, or about what happened on the Raft.

Which was fine. As much fun as visiting Wakanda—and especially getting to meet Shuri—had been, Peter was in no hurry to revisit his time on the Raft anytime soon.

"Do you think your princess will ever come here?" Ned asked as they entered their classroom. "I mean, I'm sure New York City isn't as cool as Wakanda, but—"

"Who got to meet a princess?" Flash Thompson said, plopping down in his seat behind Peter. "You, Parker? And which Disney princess was it this time? Elsa? Moana? Merida?"

"No—" Peter started.

"Yeah!" interrupted Ned. "Peter got to go to Wakanda with the Avengers, and he got to meet their king and princess!"

"Ned!" chastised Peter. "I'm not really supposed to talk about it, remember?"

"Talk about what?" laughed Flash. "The fact that your rich-ass father pulled you out of school again to take yet another trip to Disneyland? I can't believe you fell for that load of shit, Leeds. Everyone knows that Wakanda is just a made-up word."

"Um, every word is made up, Flash," answered Ned, looking confused. "And why would Peter lie about something like this?"

"'Cause he's desperate to make himself look cooler?" Flash said, sneering. "You know how he's always tripping over himself whenever Liz is around. Well, here's a newsflash for ya, Parker. Having a billionaire for a father still doesn't make you cool."

Thankfully spared from having to answer by the arrival of their teacher, Peter shot Ned a glare and opened his textbook and notebook, preparing to take notes. Peter tried to pay attention to the teacher's lecture, he really did, but as it had ever since the team had returned home, Peter found his mind wandering back to Wakanda and Shuri and all the fun they'd had while he was there. They'd even gotten to talk together the previous night, when Shuri was explaining some of the things she'd discovered in her study of the mind stone data.

"So I know you were gone and all," Ned said later that afternoon, on their way to the lunchroom. "But did you hear about what happened at your aunt's old hospital a few days ago?"

"No," Peter answered wistfully. He really needed to go and visit Ben and May's graves again soon. They'd probably enjoy hearing about Wakanda and Shuri. "What happened?"

Ned winced. "It was all over the news, dude, I'm surprised you haven't heard anything. Some guy got all hyped up on crack or something and tried to rob the pharmacy in there at gunpoint. By the time the police were able to get there he'd already killed a pharmacy tech and two nurses, and then he ended up shooting one of the police officers in the leg before they could take him down. It was bad."

"Oh wow, that's horrible!" Peter exclaimed. "Those poor people!"

"Yeah," Ned said sadly. "And my mom told me the wife of one of the nurses had just had a baby a couple months ago too, so now she's never gonna know her father."

"I'm gonna tell my dad about it," Peter said as they sat down with their lunch trays. "I know he'd wanna help those families out somehow."

"Sure he would," Flash cut in as he passed their table. "Just throw some money at 'em, that'll make everything better! That's what Tony Stark is good at, isn't it?"

"Don't, Peter," warned Ned as Peter's eyes narrowed. While he very much disliked the intentional jabs thrown at himself, Peter absolutely hated anyone talking trash about his father, or any of his other Avengers family members. "Flash is just talking out of his ass, you know that."

"Well, then he should learn to keep his trap shut," grumbled Peter. "My father is very generous with his money, and everyone knows it. I mean, he completely overhauled all of the science labs at this place not even a year ago and offered to take our entire class on a field trip to MIT."

"I know that, Peter," Ned said. "Flash is just jealous, and not only because you got to meet a real-life princess. Don't let him get to you."

"Mmm," Peter mumbled. "I know." But as Ned tactfully changed the subject over to discussing the release date of the the new Lego Death Star, Peter fiddled with the napkin on his tray, his mind wandering. There had to be ways to help prevent horrible crimes like the one at the hospital that didn't involve money. Peter knew if he'd been at that hospital for whatever reason when all that stuff had gone down, he wouldn't have hesitated to jump in and help somehow. And now, thanks to his new enhancements from the spider bite, he wouldn't even have to worry about getting hurt.

"Dude, have you even heard a word I've said in the last five minutes?" Ned asked, breaking Peter from his reverie. "I just asked you when you wanted to come over and help me set up my new computer."

"Huh?" asked Peter. "When did you get a new computer?"

"When you were down in Wakanda flirting with the princess!" Ned retorted.

"I wasn't flirting with her!" snapped Peter. "Shuri's my friend, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever. So, when can you come over?"

Peter let out a sigh. "I dunno, I'll have to talk to my dad first."

"Why would your dad care about it? He's let you come over whenever you wanted to before, as long as you let him know ahead of time."

'Cause the last time I went to your house we were kidnapped by freaking super soldiers on the way home, Peter thought. "Yeah, I know, but he's just been a bit overprotective lately. I'll talk to him, okay? Hopefully by the end of the week."

"But I'll have it done already by then," grumbled Ned.

"Ned—"

"Nevermind, it's okay," Ned said dismissively. "Don't worry about it."

"You know I wanna come and help!" Peter protested. "It's just…"

"More super-secret Avengers stuff?" asked Ned, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well… yeah," Peter answered. "I'm sorry, Ned, but I really can't tell you any more than that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Ned. "Just sometimes I wish you didn't have to keep so many secrets."

Peter's eyebrows shot up and he bit his lip, nodding. "Yeah. You have no idea, dude."

---

"Hey, buddy!" Dad said as Peter slid into the backseat of the car a few hours later, following Peter's practice session with the Academic Decathlon team. Happy was driving, which was normal, but Steve was sitting in the front passenger seat, which Peter took to mean that Dad was still paranoid about being jumped on the way home. He'd probably even stashed an extra set of gauntlets in the trunk, right next to Steve's shield.

Peter supposed he really couldn't blame Dad for being paranoid. The Raft incident had only happened a couple of weeks ago and was still very fresh in everyone's minds, even after their relaxing and recuperating stay in Wakanda. But Peter really didn't feel like discussing the incident at May's hospital in front of Steve, and it was late enough already that Pepper would likely be home shortly after they arrived back at the Tower.

"How was school, Peter?" asked Steve. "Did you miss all your friends?"

"It was okay," Peter replied. "And yeah, it was nice to see everyone again."

"You didn't get too many nosy questions, did you?" asked Dad, frowning. "Because I warned Principal Morita to make sure that—"

"No, Dad," interrupted Peter. "It was fine. Everyone thinks we just went to Disneyland again."

"Again?" Steve said with a grin. "I'm still waiting to go for the first time."

"Yeah, well, after spending time in Wakanda, I'm afraid the kid's not gonna care all that much about Disneyland anymore," said Dad as he ruffled Peter's hair. "Might as well start working on Thor, see if we can get ourselves invited out to Asgard before Pete here graduates from high school."

"Whoa!" exclaimed Peter. "I'd love to go to Asgard sometime! Do you think Thor would let us?"

"If he'd ever call we could ask him, bud," Dad sighed. "It's been awhile since we've heard from Thor and the big guy, and I'm starting to wonder what the hell they're up to out there." He pinched the bridge of his nose, which usually meant he was fighting a headache.

"We're you talking with Mr. Fury again today, Dad?" Peter asked. "How's all that going?"

Dad huffed out a sharp breath. "Ah, you know, Pete. Even though everything's been reset now, Fury still thinks the Avengers should have some sort of documented rules and regulations, indicating what our criteria are for taking care of who we deem to be the bad guys."

"But at least he's allowing us to come up with most of it ourselves," Steve said firmly. "There's no way I'd be on board with something like this otherwise, especially since we now have people like Scott and T'Challa out there who aren't technically part of the Avengers, but who still could be if we needed them."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Peter said. "So, something like a check off sheet for each mission?"

"Yeah, something like that," said Dad. He tripped his head back, closing his eyes. "And a list of countries that don't want us crossing their borders under any circumstance. Because for whatever reason, there's still world leaders out there who would rather try and take on their super-badass bad guys by themselves than ask us for help."

"But even so," Steve said, throwing Dad a look. "We would still go in if they asked, as long as we deemed it necessary."

"Yeah, sure," mumbled Dad. "It always comes down to your call, Cap. We all trust your judgement."

The rest of the short drive passed in silence as Peter bounced his legs, eager to get home so he could ask Dad some questions out of Steve's—and hopefully Pepper's—earshot.

"Hey, Dad?" Peter asked once they arrived in their Tower apartment and he'd had a chance to dump off his school stuff. Dad had headed straight to his lab when they got home, and Steve was planning on coming back up for dinner in about an hour, so Peter knew he didn't have much time. "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Anytime, Pete," Dad said, setting down the tech he was working on, which appeared to be a type of portable repulsor. "What's up?"

Peter looked down at his palms, picking at a piece of dead skin by his fingers. "Um… I was wondering… if it would be okay for me to start training with the team. You know, when we go to the Compound on weekends?"

Dad pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes. "And why would you want to start doing that?"

"Well… because…" Peter mumbled, gulping. "Because I think I can help. I wanna help. And with what I can do now, I think—"

"You think you wanna be an Avenger?"

"Well… yeah."

"No, Pete," said Dad, shaking his head. "You're a bit too young still. Maybe when you're older."

"But, Dad, I can help now! And I know if I started training with the team, I could be even better!"

"And I said no, Pete!" Dad snapped. "You're too young, barely even a teenager! And yes, I know that you can climb up the walls, and that you managed to remodel the face of one of those Winter Soldiers there on the Raft, but that was a somewhat controlled situation. It's completely different out there in the field. Besides. We're supposed to be keeping your new… skills… a secret, aren't we?"

Anger and shame flooded Peter's body, and he bit his lip, trying to stay calm. He probably should've waited to bring this up until the Raft incident was further behind them, but who knows how many more instances like that one at the hospital would happen in the meantime? "But, Dad, what if we shouldn't keep it a secret? I'm strong, even stronger than Steve. You've seen what I can do, so why can't I help? And if you're that concerned about keeping what I can do secret, then why couldn't I just wear a mask or something?"

"Peter, the answer is no. End of discussion—"

"You guys let Wanda and Pietro train, and they're only a couple years older than me! How am I any different? Why should I be any different?"

"The twins train with us because Barton says that they can," Dad barked, his brow furrowing in frustration. "Since he's one of their responsible adults. And for the record, the twins are eighteen, which is an entire four years older than you, Pete."

"Thanks, I know how to add," Peter mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me, child? I didn't quite catch that. My ears don't work as well as yours, remember?"

"Nothing!" grumbled Peter. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter."

Dad's shoulders sagged, and he stepped over to Peter, placing his hands on Peter's shoulders. "And as your responsible adult, I'm telling you no," he said. "C'mon, Pete, I don't wanna argue with you. Just… trust me on this, okay? It would be much easier for everyone for you to just stay the awesome kid that you are."

Easier for who? Peter thought bitterly. Easier for you, maybe. But what about those poor people at that hospital? What about the next person who gets mugged on a Queens street? What about when the next mission comes along and you guys all leave me here alone again?

"Hmph," Peter muttered. "Fine."

"Fine," Dad echoed. "Now, why don't you get started on your homework before Pepper gets home, yeah?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'm gonna go and work in my room."

"Oh. Okay, sure," said Dad. Peter usually did his homework in the lab because he enjoyed watching Dad work, but he didn't really feel like being around his father at the moment. Peter needed to think, and he knew he couldn't do that in the lab when he was supposed to be doing homework.

Shuffling into his room, Peter flopped onto his bed with a heavy sigh, shoving his backpack onto the floor. He hated arguing with anyone, especially his father, because it always made him feel horrible. Deep down he knew that Dad loved him and was just trying to protect him like he always had, but Peter hated the thought of just sitting around, pretending that everything was still the same with him since the spider bite when it absolutely wasn't anymore. All his life he'd been too small and too weak to do much of anything useful, but now that was no longer the case, and there was no good reason that Peter could see for not using his new abilities to try and help people.

A long time ago, back when Peter was around five or six years old, there was one night when Uncle Ben was nearly three hours late coming home from work and wouldn't answer his cell phone. Peter and May were both worried sick, pacing back and forth in their small Queens apartment, with May trying to keep a brave face on for Peter even as her narrow shoulders were shaking with fear and anxiety. When Ben finally unlocked the apartment door and walked in, May flung herself into his arms and broke down, completely ignoring the fact that Ben was so filthy that he seemed like he'd been splashing around in a puddle of grease.

It wasn't until after May had pushed Ben into the bathroom to clean up and he'd had a chance to eat his reheated dinner that he explained why he'd been so late. Ben had been on his way home—taking a shortcut through some not-so-nice side streets—when he happened to see a woman on the side of the road whose car had gotten a flat tire. He'd stopped to help the woman, and was just about finished with changing her tire when he was hit in the back of his head by someone else and knocked out. By the time he came to, the woman he was helping was gone and the entire contents of his truck, all the tools that he used for his work as an electrician, had been stolen.

May, of course, immediately became frantic, asking Ben why he always felt the need to stop and help every random stranger that he saw and trying to insist that they bring him to the hospital to have him checked out. And Ben had refused, saying he was fine, that there was nothing wrong with him that a couple of aspirins couldn't fix. He was far more concerned about having to replace the stolen tools than with any of his own injuries.

And later that night, when Ben was tucking Peter into bed, Peter remembered asking him why he'd stopped to help the lady in such a poor area of town, where the danger of something bad happening was so high. And Peter would never, ever forget his response.

"Peter," he'd said. "If you are able to do something good for someone else, then you have a moral obligation to do that something."

Peter hadn't quite understood what Uncle Ben meant way back then, but his words reverberated through Peter's head now, as if he'd only heard them a few moments ago. The spider bite had given Peter his new enhanced senses and strength, so why shouldn't he use those skills to try and help people. It's what the Avengers did all the time.

And if Dad said he couldn't be an Avenger yet, well… then Peter would just have to show Dad that he was wrong.

But first, he'd need equipment. One of the last things Steve always did before the team left on a mission was to double-check all of their equipment and gear, to make sure everything was there and it was all in good working order. Even with Peter's enhancements, he knew he would need things to help him fight so he didn't have to resort to using his fists. After seeing what only one punch had done to that Winter Soldier, Peter knew that could never happen again.

He would need something that would help him stop the bad guys without hurting them too much, and help protect himself at the same time. Something like Steve's shield or Mr. Barton's arrows. And he would also need a suit; all of the Avengers had uniforms. Peter's would need a mask, so people wouldn't be able to recognize him, but Peter was sure he could come up with something that would hide his face but still allow him to see well.

Rolling over, Peter grabbed George from on top of his pillows, squeezing the polar bear to his chest as he brainstormed. I was bit by a spider… I can climb walls like a spider… so… I should build something that helps me act like a spider…

"Spider webs are sticky and strong," Peter mumbled into George's neck. "So… that means I should build… something to help me make a web."

"Pardon me, Young Peter?" asked FRIDAY. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Huh?" replied Peter. He'd completely forgotten about FRIDAY; he would need to deactivate her or something once he started working so she wouldn't be constantly asking him what he was doing. "Oh, nevermind, FRIDAY. Just… talking to myself."

"Oh, all right, then," said FRIDAY. "Please let me know if I can be of further assistance."

"I will, FRIDAY, thanks."

Okay, I'm gonna build spider web shooters, Peter thought. But what can I use for webbing?

Glancing to his left, Peter's eyes landed on the huge framed poster of the starship Enterprise-D hanging on the wall of his room, held in place by the glue he'd invented for that science fair a few years ago. Peter had tinkered with the recipe a bit since then and had now found one that was so strong that Dad had started using it in some of the new tech he was designing, instead of soldering pieces together. It was also being used as wall adhesive for all of Steve's drawings and paintings around the Tower and up at the Compound, so hopefully it would be easy for Peter to adjust the recipe yet again and make some kind of webbing fluid that he could store in the shooters.

Reaching into his bedside table, Peter pulled out one of his spare chemistry lab notebooks and a pencil and started sketching out ideas for possible web-shooter designs. Getting all of the necessary materials for the tech shouldn't be a problem since Dad always kept his lab very well-stocked, so Peter was pretty certain he'd be able to find everything he'd need in there. Sneaking the stuff out could pose a problem, but since Peter had always been pretty light on his feet, and even more so since the spider bite, he wasn't too worried about that. Dad still listened to his loud music most of the time anyway when he was working alone, so chances were very good that he wouldn't notice anything.

"Miss Potts and Captain Rogers have just arrived, Young Peter," FRIDAY said a few moments later. "It is time for you to eat dinner now."

"Yeah, thanks, FRIDAY," Peter answered. He set George back down on his pillow, patting the polar bear's head as he pushed himself up off the bed, shoving the notebook under his mattress to keep it away from potentially prying eyes. With any luck, Peter would be able to have a preliminary design nailed down by tonight, and hopefully be able to start building tomorrow.

But as Peter opened his bedroom door and heard Dad's boisterous voice bantering back and forth with Steve, he felt a sharp twinge of guilt. He couldn't remember the last time he'd so blatantly disobeyed his father, and this wasn't just some little white lie he was telling. This was a lot bigger than another misplaced backpack or pair of glasses, and Dad had always told Peter that he was a terrible liar.

As a matter of fact, Steve, Bruce, Pepper, Natasha, Sam, and Ned had all told Peter the same thing at one time or another.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Hey, Peter!" Pepper exclaimed as Peter sat down next to her at the table. She leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Were you talking to your princess friend again?"

Peter shook his head, his cheeks flushing red like they did pretty much anytime someone mentioned Shuri. "No," he said, clearing his throat. "I just talked with her yesterday, and she said she was gonna be really busy for the next few days. T'Challa's getting officially crowned as king, and apparently that's a pretty big deal down there."

"Yeah, I would imagine that would be a big deal," said Pepper. "It's too bad you guys couldn't've stuck around for it."

"Well, us even being there in the first place was kinda a big deal," Peter answered. "So I can understand why they'd wanna keep something like that private."

"I'm sure Pete can ask for pictures later," Dad said with a wink, ruffling Peter's hair.

Ducking his head, Peter nodded, shoving a huge bite of curry into his mouth. With all of her recent trips to India lately Pepper had acquired a fondness for Indian food, which Peter greatly enjoyed. He'd always loved spicy dishes.

"Hey, Steve?" Peter asked a few minutes later, halfway through his second plate of curry. "I was wondering, um… did you see anything on the news about a shooting at a hospital in Queens? It happened while we were gone, so—"

"Yeah, I did hear a couple mentions about that," Steve answered. He shook his head. "It's too bad, what happened there. Those poor people."

"What's this?" asked Dad.

"Yeah, I was gonna ask you about it too," Peter said. "Ned told me about it. Two nurses and a pharmacy tech were killed when some crazy guy tried to rob the pharmacy at Aunt May's old hospital. One of the nurses had a brand-new baby at home."

"That the same place where we brought that fixed-up gaming system way back when?" Dad asked.

"Mmmhmm, that's the one," answered Peter. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "And I was thinking, maybe we could—"

"I'm sure we could do something for those families, Peter," said Pepper. "With all the work we do with the Stark Relief Foundation around the world, sometimes it's easy to forget that there's tragedies that happen here at home too."

"Well… yeah," Peter stammered. "That would be great of you—I mean, of us—but I was also wondering… you know… maybe during downtimes like this, when we're—I mean you guys—aren't on one of your missions, wouldn't you be able to help out with stuff like that? I mean, I keep thinking that if Iron Man and Captain America had showed up at that hospital during the robbery, maybe those poor people wouldn't've been killed."

Steve and Dad looked at each other, both raising their eyebrows. "Well… Peter," said Steve after a short pause. "What happened at that hospital was tragic, but I really don't think that we—"

"What Cap means, is that regular police work is a bit below the Avengers paygrade," Dad interrupted.

"Tony, that sounds a bit callous, don't you think?" said Pepper.

"Not if it's true," Dad protested. "Besides, I prefer to think of it as blunt, not callous."

"We wouldn't want to undermine the authority of the local police forces, Peter," Steve said gently. "Unless they were to specifically ask for our help, it wouldn't be proper for us to intervene."

"And in a city the size of New York, there are literally hundreds of police incidents in a day, Pete," Dad said. "Even if we wanted to, there'd be no way we could respond to every single one."

"Yeah," Peter whispered. He set down his fork, no longer hungry. "I suppose not."

"Where's all this coming from, Pete?" asked Dad. "You've never mentioned anything about this kind of thing before."

"I dunno," mumbled Peter. "It just seems like we—you guys—get so busy fighting against aliens and homicidal robots and corrupt government officials, that the regular people just get forgotten."

"So you're just trying to look out for the little guys?" Dad asked. "That's very noble of you, Pete."

"Yeah, well, someone's got+—"

"I can have my office contact the local police chiefs," said Pepper. "Maybe there's something we can donate that would help. And I'll definitely see about setting up something for that poor baby whose father was killed, and for the rest of the families too."

Stifling a sigh, Peter nodded. "Thanks, Pepper. That's really nice of you."

"That's my boy," Dad said proudly, clapping his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Always thinking of others."

"Yeah," whispered Peter. He quickly downed the rest of his water glass and wiped his mouth. "Can I please be excused now? I got more homework to do."

"Yeah, sure," answered Dad. "Come to the lab when you're done, okay? I could use your help with this new repulsor I'm working on."

"Sure," Peter said with a brief smile. "Sounds good."

Hurrying back to his room, Peter closed the door, retrieving the notebook from under his mattress. "All right," he murmured as he picked up his pencil, looking at what he'd already drawn with a critical eye. "Let's do this."

---

As Peter had anticipated, it wasn't that difficult for him to acquire the necessary materials that he needed to build his tech. After finalizing the design for his web shooters over the course of a couple of weeks, Peter deactivated FRIDAY for a few minutes and snuck the required hardware out of Dad's lab one evening while Dad was down talking with Steve in his apartment and Pepper was working late. Peter was also able to sneak several yards of the Stark Industries bullet-resistant fabric out as well, thankful that Dad's record-keeping at home was sketchy at best. Dad was in the planning stages of yet another new set of uniforms for the team and had asked for Peter's help with them since he did all of the construction by hand, but he was notoriously bad at keeping track of exactly how much of the stuff he had at any given time, so it was easy for Peter to make off with some of it without him noticing.

Since the fabric came in only two colors, black and a rather ugly, taupe-like shade, dyeing the lighter version into the dark blue and red colors that Peter wanted for his suit wasn't too difficult. In fact, cleaning up the massive, crime scene-like mess in his bathtub afterwards was much more difficult, requiring Peter to scrub so hard when he was done that he nearly took the finish off the tub. Next time he'd have to use some sort of disposable tub or something.

Piecing the suit together proved to be a bit more challenging, though. It was one thing to sew together a uniform for Steve or Sam while following a specific set of measurements, and a completely different thing to try to do it on yourself. Since Peter had never had a superhero suit before his measurements weren't listed anywhere, and while Peter's initial guesses were fairly accurate, they didn't exactly produce the end results that he wanted. Using a pair of his jeans as a model for the legs of the suit would have worked out fine if Peter had indeed wanted his suit bottoms to resemble a pair of jeans.

Which he didn't. Peter wanted the whole suit to be tight-fitting, so as to decrease wind resistance as much as possible when he was swinging between buildings. And if Peter thought that sewing an entire suit by hand was difficult and time-consuming, having to then rip out all of the hand-sewn stitches and re-sew them was even more so. The fact that he ran out of thread twice and had to wait for Dad to stock more of that particular color didn't help either.

The mask was even trickier. Peter realized very quickly that he wouldn't be able to use the mesh he'd initially chosen for the eyes, as while he could see through it well enough, it didn't allow him to use his enhanced peripheral vision at all. Since that was unacceptable, Peter instead came up with the idea to take the lenses from one of his pairs of glasses and install those into the mask instead. Dad had initially designed the glasses for Peter to use when he was tired or feeling overwhelmed, as his IMAX vision tended to go a bit haywire the more tired he got. And with Peter's tendency to misplace things, he now had four pairs of the glasses.

Peter had initially thought he would be done with designing and building by the time spring rolled around, but with having to hide what he was doing most of the time and then the mistakes with the measurements, it ended up taking the entire rest of the school year and most of the summer before Peter had a suit, web shooters, and web fluid that he considered useable.

"Hey, bud," Dad said after dinner one evening near the end of July, stopping Peter as he was about to head back to his room. "We need to talk."

"Uhh," Peter stammered, gulping. Oh, shit! "Um… about what?"

Dad shot Peter a rather impish grin. "In case you've forgotten, it's your birthday coming up here pretty soon, and I was thinking we could do something different this year than Coney Island or Disneyland."

"Oh!" Peter stuttered, so relieved that his knees nearly buckled. "Like what?"

"Well, how does Wakanda sound?"

"Really?" Peter squeaked as his heart skipped a beat. "Oh, that sounds awesome!"

"Yeah, I thought you'd be excited about seeing your little princess again," Dad laughed. "And Steve and Pepper are gonna come with us too. Steve wants to check in on Barnes, make sure he's recovering well."

"Yeah! That sounds so awesome, Dad, thank you!" Throwing his arms around his father's torso, Peter ducked his head down under Dad's chin, sighing happily when Dad patted his back. It was getting harder and harder for Peter to do that lately with how much he'd grown, but he still loved hearing his father's heartbeat beneath his ear.

I'll even be able to ask Shuri to look over my designs for me!

"Mmm, good," Dad murmured, kissing Peter's temple. "It'll do you some good to get dragged out of that room of yours for a few days. What the hell are you doing in there all day, anyway?"

"Aahh," Peter stammered, biting his lip as he raised his head. "Well—"

"No, no, on second thought, maybe I don't wanna know," Dad said, shaking his head. "Just remember, kid, I started college when I was fifteen, so if anyone was an expert at getting into trouble, it was me. But, that also made me something of an expert at sniffing out trouble. So… just try and keep that in mind, okay? 'Cause I don't wanna get down there to Wakanda only to have T'Challa pull me aside and tell me that he caught you and Shuri trying to do… something inappropriate for two people of your esteemed stature."

"Oh my God, Dad!" Peter moaned, ducking his head back down, his face flushing so hard he felt dizzy. "Good grief, no! I would never!" Dad had sat Peter down for The Talk just a few months ago, and Peter couldn't remember another time when he'd wanted nothing more than to just melt into a puddle of goo right there in the lab. It had been absolutely mortifying, to say the least. On both of their parts.

Dad chuckled. "No, probably not. There's no question that you're much more of a saint than I was at almost fifteen."

"Sure," Peter whispered, his throat thick with embarrassment. "No, Dad. You won't have to worry about anything like that."

"Good. Then we're leaving in three days, so you might wanna start packing."

"I will," Peter said, clearing his throat. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, buddy," said Dad with a smirk. He patted Peter on the cheek. "It'll be nice to see you smiling again. You've been a bit on the teenage-angsty side lately."

As it turned out, the birthday trip to Wakanda was even more fun than Peter could have hoped for. Peter was beyond excited to see Shuri in person again, even more so after the scary incident that she and T'Challa had gone through with their long-lost cousin, N'Jadaka. The son of King T'Chaka's brother, who had been sent to live in the United States on an intelligence mission but was later found to have betrayed Wakanda, N'Jadaka was raised in a rough Oakland neighborhood and eventually became a US Armed Forces black ops specialist, obtaining a high kill ratio that was high enough to earn him the nickname Killmonger. After traveling to Wakanda to make a claim to the throne, N'Jadaka nearly killed T'Challa during a ritual challenge battle and forced Shuri and her mother into a temporary exile in the mountains until they were able to regroup and defeat N'Jadaka.

Peter showed Shuri the designs for his web shooters and asked her opinion, knowing she'd be able to keep things a secret, and was thrilled when she gave them her impressed stamp of approval. They also spent several hours going over the data Shuri had collected on the mind stone during the last trip, still trying to make some sense of all of it.

Bucky Barnes was there, freed from his cryosleep and looking a bit thinner and more worn than Peter remembered him being, but with a clarity in his eyes that wasn't at all there during the fight at the Raft. Steve was absolutely overjoyed to see his best friend looking so well, and he and Bucky spent a lot of time catching up, so much so that Peter only saw them a few times the whole time they were there.

And Peter's birthday celebration itself, well, it pretty much blew Disneyland out of the water. Following a feast literally fit for a king, dozens of men and women dressed in elaborate costumes of bright teal, blue, and purple performed an elaborate dance to a long line of drummers. After the dance a birthday cake was wheeled out, which was five entire tiers of the richest chocolate Peter had ever tasted, and it was all capped off with an incredible fireworks display that would have rivaled any presidential inauguration party, all designed by Shuri, of course.

By the time it was all over, Peter was so exhausted that he was sure he'd be able to sleep nonstop for the next month.

But the best part was, without a doubt, the tight hug and kiss on the cheek that Shuri gave Peter right before he boarded the Quinjet to come home. He could still remember the nearly intoxicating smell of her beautiful hair, sandalwood, and something else he couldn't quite place.

Yeah. It was probably safe for Peter to admit that he didn't think of Shuri as only a friend anymore.

---

"Hey, Ned? I was wondering if you'd do me a favor," Peter said as he and Ned walked down the hall to their lockers after their last class. Since school had started up again he and Ned had gotten into the habit of spending a few hours in the robotics lab every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, but now that Peter's suit and web shooters were finally ready, he wanted to start patrolling during those hours instead.

"Sure," Ned said, his nose buried in the latest issue of Lego Magazine. "What's up?"

"Um… I was thinking of skipping out on the robotics lab for awhile," Peter said in a low voice. "There's… some other stuff I need to do."

"Huh?" Ned asked as he looked up. "You wanna quit the robotics lab?"

"No!" exclaimed Peter as he opened his locker. "Well, yeah. Sorta. Think of it more as I'm like taking a hiatus or something."

"Okay, why?" asked Ned.

"Because I need to do some things by myself," Peter said through clenched teeth. "Secret things. But I need you to help me with an alibi in case my dad or Steve or someone else asks about it."

"What the hell do you gotta do that's so secret you wanna hide it from your dad?" Ned demanded. "And even more secrets from me? That's low, dude."

"Look, it'll only be for a little while!" begged Peter. Just long enough for Dad to see what I'm capable of. "Please? You know I wouldn't ask something like this if it wasn't important!"

Ned frowned, dropping his shoulders. "Mmm. Okay, but I don't think Shuri's gonna like it if she finds out you're cheating on her or something. Her brother'll probably send his warrior army up here to get ya."

"What? No, this has nothing to do with Shuri! Good grief, you're just as bad as my dad!"

"Okay, okay!" said Ned. "But it pretty much sucks that you're asking me to do this without telling me what's going on."

"Look," Peter said, lowering his voice. "With any luck you won't have to do anything. It's for emergency purposes only. And like I said, hopefully it won't have to be for too long."

"Fine," grumbled Ned. "But don't expect me to lie for you more than once or twice. I don't need Captain America dressing me down like he did to Flash that one time."

Peter breathed out a huge sigh of relief as he patted Ned on the shoulder. "Thanks, dude. I owe you one."

"Yeah. I think this is at least worth an invitation to Wakanda," Ned said. "Just be careful, okay?"

Smiling, Peter nodded as he slung his backpack over his shoulders, his suit and web shooters carefully tucked inside. "Yeah, I will."

---

As soon as the coast was clear at the school Peter took off in the direction of the subway, hopping on the train headed for Queens. Stepping off the train, a massive wave of nostalgia washed over Peter as he climbed up the steps to the sidewalk. How long had it been since he'd walked along these streets? Dad used to bring him over here every now and then, to eat at Delmar's and walk around a bit, but with everything that had happened in recent years—Project Insight, the HYDRA raids, Ultron, and all the government stuff that had led to the fight at the Raft—Peter couldn't remember the last time they'd done so.

Well, that was about to change.

"Good Lord!" Mr. Delmar exclaimed as Peter walked in, the pungent smell of baking bread making his mouth water. "Look at you, Mr. Parker, sorry, I mean, Mr. Stark! You're at least twice the size you were the last time I saw you!"

"Hey, Mr. Delmar!" Peter said, waving at the bushy-haired deli owner. "Yeah, it has been way too long. How're things?"

"Ah, you know how it is," said Mr. Delmar as he swept his arm around the store. "Just trying to make a living, ya know? Are you here for your regular, kid?"

"Oh yeah," answered Peter with a wide smile. His stomach was growling so loudly he was surprised Mr. Delmar couldn't hear it. "And smoosh it down real flat, please."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember you like your sandwiches smashed down," Mr. Delmar said with a wink. He tossed Peter a small bag of gummy worms. "So, how're things up there at that big ole fancy tower? Those Avenger people still treating you okay?"

"Oh yeah," Peter answered, scooting down to pet the floofy ginger cat perched on the far end of the counter. "You don't need to worry about me, Mr. Delmar. My dad's the best, and the rest of them are really great too. It's pretty awesome."

Handing Peter his sandwich, Mr. Delmar quirked one bushy eyebrow. "Hmm. Well, just don't forget where you came from, all right, kid? I'd love to see your face around here more often than once every couple of years."

Peter smiled, thinking of the suit hidden away in his backpack. "Yeah, I think you'll be seeing me a bit more often from now on."

"Sounds good! Stay safe out there, okay?"

"Thanks, Mr. Delmar!" answered Peter. "See ya soon!"

Peter headed down the busy street, munching on his sandwich as he walked about three blocks before ducking into a dead-end alleyway. Shoving the final bite into his mouth, Peter tossed the trash into the dumpster and unzipped his backpack, pulling out his brand-new suit. With a quick glance around to make sure no one could see him, Peter proceeded to strip out of his clothes and pull on the suit. With a quick check of the time, Peter tucked his phone into its special pocket and activated his web shooters, webbing his backpack to the brick side of a building. He'd designed the webbing to dissolve after a couple of hours, and he needed to make sure that he enough time afterwards to change and get back to the school before Dad or Steve came to pick him up, so he needed to get started.

Pulling on his mask, Peter inhaled a deep breath and looked up at the side of the building, easily ten stories high, and aimed his web shooter. The string of webbing shot out, attaching itself firmly to the very top ledge of the building. Tugging on it to make sure it could support his weight, Peter smiled and took off.

The first few times that he patrolled not too much happened. Since Peter hadn't had a chance to really test his equipment before, he ended up spending the first few patrolling afternoons just getting the timing and rhythm down with the swinging between buildings. There were a few things that he was able to help with; an attempted stolen bicycle and a couple of lost old ladies, but nothing too interesting happened until the afternoon where he noticed a speeding car that had run a red light and was heading straight for the side of a bus. With his heart in his throat, Peter managed to swing down and land directly in front of the car, stopping it just in time to avoid t-boning the bus. And while he didn't then wait around for the police to show up, Peter did manage to web the man's hands to the steering wheel, preventing him from escaping before the police arrived.

"Who the hell are you?" the man asked, panting as he struggled against the ironclad hold of the webbing.

"Call me Spider-Man," Peter answered proudly before flipping away. The newest Queens crime-fighter.

With his confidence growing higher every time, Peter continued with his patrols, boosted up even more when he got the idea to tell Dad that Ned's mom could start bringing him home on Tuesdays and Thursdays instead of Dad or Steve coming to pick him up. Without the time constraints of having to make it back to the school before the designated pickup time, Peter was able to relax even more into his new role.

And, judging by how normal everything seemed to be at home, no one in Avengers Tower was any the wiser.

One afternoon around three weeks later, Peter had just swung up to the top of a building about a block away from Delmar's, taking a quick breather after a bad mix-up with a guy who Peter had thought was trying to steal a car when he actually had just locked his keys inside. Since it had been a rather boring afternoon other than that, Peter was just about ready to call it quits and head back home when he noticed a group of four men, all wearing toy Avengers masks, entering a bank on one of the corners.

"Finally, something good!" Peter muttered as he flipped down from the building. Hurrying down the street, Peter silently entered the bank, closing the door behind him.

"Whoa, this high-tech stuff makes this all too easy!" one of the guys—the one wearing the Hulk mask—said as he aimed what appeared to be some sort of laser rifle at the ATM, completely cutting away the front of the machine. He backed away once he was done, allowing the guy in the Thor mask to step forward with another, three-pronged weapon that removed the front of the machine using what looked like a magnetic field of some kind.

Where the hell would a bunch of random bank robbers get fancy weapons like this? Peter thought. The only time Peter had seen anything that even resembled stuff like this were back in some of the old SHIELD files he'd peaked at after the whole Project Insight mess.

Peter watched as the robbers yanked the drawers full of money out of the ATM and proceeded to empty them into the black duffle bags they were carrying, chattering the whole time about how they could hit at least four more banks that evening.

"Hey, what's up, guys?" Peter said a few seconds later. "Did you forget your PIN number or something?"

The four men immediately froze and looked up, the Iron Man guy cocking his rifle and taking two steps forward as Peter shot a web towards him, yanking the rifle from his hands.

"You're not really the Avengers!" Peter said as he shot up to cling to the ceiling, bringing his feet down into the chest of the Thor robber, knocking him backwards and into a sign hanging on the wall. I would know.

Dodging a punch from the Iron Man robber, Peter caught the guy's hand, diverting it to hit the Hulk guy instead and knocking him down. He jumped down from the ceiling, intending to start webbing up the robbers and leave them for the police when the Captain America guy picked up the three-pronged rifle and shot it towards Peter, encasing him in the same magnetic field that they'd used to rip apart the ATM.

"Oh my God, this feels so weird!" Peter gasped, his voice sounding like it was coming from the deep innards of a wind tunnel. The Cap dude raised the rifle, slamming Peter up against the ceiling of the bank and back down again. Peter managed to fire his web on the third pass, catching it on a shelf filled with bank flyers and hurling into the back of the Cap guy, sending him flying into the window and knocking him down.

"C'mon, guys, let's wrap this up!" said Peter, flipping out of the way of yet another flying fist sent by the fake Iron Man. "It's a school night! And how did jerks like you get tech like this anyway?" Webbing the Iron Man's three-pronged rifle to the wall, Peter turned just in time to see the Hulk guy raise his weapon and pull the trigger.

The sound of the weapon as it powered up reminded Peter of the Stark Industries jet taking off from a runway. The entire back end of the weapon started to glow a bright pinky-purplish color just a few seconds before a massive energy beam discharged from the barrel. Peter was barely able to shove the Iron Man guy out of the way before the beam cut completely through the windows of the bank, shooting across the street and directly into Mr. Delmar's store.

"Mr. Delmar!" Peter cried, the robbers instantly forgotten as he ran down the street, hurdling burning pieces of debris as he jumped inside the destroyed deli, calling Mr. Delmar's name. Peter found the store owner bent over on his hands and knees behind the deli counter, coughing violently against the dense smoke filling the store.

"Who the hell are you?" Mr. Delmar gasped as Peter wrapped Mr. Delmar's arm around his shoulders and lifted him up, dragging him out of the destroyed building, with Murph the fat ginger cat tucked under his other arm. "Where'd you come from?"

"Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, sir, " answered Peter. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

"No way," said Mr. Delmar with another cough. "It would take a lot more than that to get me to go to a hospital. I'll take my cat back though, if ya don't mind, Spider Boy."

"Huh?" asked Peter, his attention drawn back to the now-empty bank, with currency bills still fluttering to the ground. The Avengers robbers had all fled the scene.

"My cat?" Mr. Delmar asked, pointing to the meowing animal under Peter's arm. "Can I have my cat back, please?"

"Oh, sure," mumbled Peter, handing the fuzzy cat to Mr. Delmar, who immediately tucked him to his chest. "You okay then, sir?"

"Yeah, yeah. I can hear the sirens already," Mr. Delmar said as he tried to shush the cat, who was still meowing furiously. "I'll be fine."

"All right then," Peter said, his shoulders sagging in frustration. He was going to have to figure out some way of telling Dad and Steve about these hi-tech weapons without making it seem like he'd seen them in action. These things were far too dangerous to be just floating around on regular city streets.

As twilight began to stretch across the city, Peter hurried back to the alleyway where he kept his backpack and clothes, his heart dropping down to his knees when he got there and realized that the webbing he'd used to secure it earlier had already dissolved, and the backpack was gone.

"Oh, crap!" Peter muttered. He was already on his second backpack of the school year, and it had barely even started. "Dad's gonna kill me!"

Not to mention the fact that he now had absolutely nothing with which to cover his Spider-Man suit, which meant he was going to have to figure out a way to sneak back into the Tower, which, for all intents and purposes, was a building that was supposed to be impossible to sneak into.

"Crap, crap, crap!" mumbled Peter as he swung from building to building, his heart thudding wildly as he crossed the distance between Queens and Midtown as quickly as possible. He and Ned had never stayed in the robotics lab this late, and Peter had a feeling Dad was going to have a few questions for him once he got home.

Landing about a half a block away from the Tower, Peter ducked under a large awning, pulling out his phone with a shaky hand. "FRIDAY?" he whispered. "Can you tell me my dad's location?"

"Mr. Stark is currently speaking with Captain Rogers and Mr. Wilson in Captain Rogers' apartment, Young Peter," answered FRIDAY. "Would you like me to contact him for you?"

"No, no, FRIDAY, thanks," Peter said quickly. "Um… I'll be home in a few minutes, so I'll call him when I get in."

"Very well," said FRIDAY.

Securing his phone, Peter swallowed hard as he approached the Tower. The only thing he could think of that could possibly work would be to climb up the side of the thing and try to get in using the entrance on the Quinjet landing pad, which led directly into Dad's lab. Looking up at the huge, tall Tower, Peter inhaled a deep breath and began to climb, avoiding any windows with lights still on and trying to stay on the west side of the building. All of the residential apartments were on the ten uppermost floors of the huge building and mainly faced east, so Peter was hoping that none of his family members would happen to be looking out of one of their westward-facing windows at the same exact moment as he climbed up past them.

Huffing and puffing, Peter finally reached the top of the Tower several minutes later. As he dropped down onto the landing pad, Peter ducked down behind the Quinjet to catch his breath. He was sweating profusely under his suit from all his exertion, and was really looking forward to a hot shower once he got inside, hopefully to be followed by a large dinner.

Peter punched his alarm code into the panel next to the door, relieved when the door immediately clicked open. Crawling up onto the ceiling, Peter made his way across the lab, down the dark main hallway, past Dad and Pepper's bedroom and into his own room, dropping down silently onto the floor with a huge sigh of relief. Pulling off his mask, Peter flopped backwards onto his bed and squeezed his eyes closed. He had made it.

"FRIDAY, lights," a low voice suddenly said from the corner. Peter gasped, shooting up from the bed so fast that his head started to swim, causing him to flop right back onto his pillows. Blinking against the sudden brightness of the lights, Peter winced as he turned towards the corner, his tired eyes slowly focusing in on the person sitting in the chair over by the window.

"Care to explain where you've been all afternoon?" asked Dad, his voice thick with anger and disappointment. "And that goddamn Halloween costume you're wearing?"

---

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