Author's note: Hey guys! Please don't kill me. I know, I know, I have been sooo inactive over the past few days and things are just getting stressful at this point. Like I said, school restarted a while back and soon exams are going to be coming up. UGH GOD! So teachers are freaking out and when they freak out about finishing in time, they give us a lot of homework, so we can finish quicker, don't ask me what type of logic that is, I don't get it either. So this is basically an apology for not uploading. I'm going to try and quickly finish the double upload today itself, and maybe try to get it to 10 chapters. Reviews are always welcome. So as you might be able to see that I have put the Percy Jackson story on hiatus, I recently learned what that word meant, and I think that I should wait till I finish this story before I move on. Enjoy the double upload y'all.


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As Peter laid in bed that night, at the tower in his rather massive room, flicking through the bucket-load of TV channels, all of which were displaying his face with a rather interesting caption, he thought about his day. It had been… unique he could say that. It's not every day that you have your face plastered all of the news, he thought. Peter had felt that revealing to the world that he was Spider-Man would have been daunting. At least that's what he thought at first, but it had been more relieving than anything else.

There had always been a reason for him to hide his identity, that reason being Aunt May, but then she passed away and he didn't have a reason to hide anymore. He wouldn't have to be scared that anyone was going to find out about his identity because everyone already knew. It hadn't been that horrible, he thought.

Then came the big question of school. How was he supposed to explain this? Though his class had already seen the Daily Bugle report, most didn't believe it. And why would they? Who would think that Peter Parker, the science nerd, the loser of the school and the worst student in Gym class, would be the vigilante that roamed the notorious New York streets at night? Yeah, right. No one. Then there was of course his last name. Stark. He was a Stark now, and even if the world and his school knew about Spider-man, what would they think about him being Tony Stark's son? And on that note, his eyelids drooped and a dream-less sleep carried him into the night.

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As Peter sat at breakfast on Saturday, surrounded by the Avengers, he remembered the first time that he had met the Rogues. It had been at the compound, only a few short weeks after Thanos' attack at Wakanda. He had still been grieving, but was forced to go to school by Pepper and Tony, who he had been living with, temporarily. They had been right, it had helped him, being around MJ and Ned, it really had. He remembered walking through the doors, a spring in his step after Happy had picked him up from school to take him to the Compound, to find Tony, Captain America, Scarlet Witch, Black Widow, Hawkeye, the Falcon and a slightly miffed Pepper, sitting around the very table they were sitting on now. He had stiffened and his eyes had narrowed, taking an almost defensive posture before tossing his bag onto the couch. He knew what these people had done to Tony. They seemed slightly alarmed that there was a teenager at the Compound, and were even more put off when he looked visibly angry at them.

He had warily steered towards Tony, keeping one eye at them, his web shooters ready to shoot, as he had put them on in the car, ready to show his Dad the new upgrades he had made to them at school in Chemistry class. As he reached Tony, he gritted his teeth.

"What are they doing here?" he had hissed at him quietly. Tony quirked up an eyebrow, before sighing and placing two hands on his shoulders and pulling him into a warm embrace, something which surprised their company.

"They won't do anything, I promise. I get where you're coming from, but I have security everywhere, everything is fine," he had assured the teenager, looking at him in the eye.

"You are not the only one I'm worried about, Tony," he whispered softly, eyeing Pepper, who had been looking at them curiously.

"Why don't you clean up and come and have a snack with everyone?" Tony had suggested. Peter had nodded an answer distractedly, before throwing one venomous look behind him and leaving for his room, their voices fading as he walked further away.

They had come so far, he thought, watching as Tony swatted at Clint's forehead, playfully. He tucked into his breakfast quietly, before cracking a smile at everyone's antics and asked if anyone wanted to train. There was a chorus of 'yes' from Clint, Natasha, Steve and Sam and 'no' from the others. Spoil sports. They finished their breakfasts, more quickly than what would be considered healthy and stepped into the elevator, ready to go to level 73, where the Gym was situated to practice.

We walked into the training room; the walls were lined with all types of gear, ranging from katanas to revolvers. Amazing, yet dangerous. Peter walked over to his web shooters and pressed them over his wrists. He plodded over to the middle of the Gym, waiting for the others, who one by one, trickled out. Sam and Steve started punching their punching bags; a daily exercise for them, Clint started warming up for archery and Nat walked over to him, gesturing for them to pair up and fight. He nodded eagerly. Natasha had been training him for the past four months in hand-to-hand combat, some days, if he was lucky, he would get to use his web shooters and freaky sticking-to-the wall powers, but when he wasn't he would be left with his heightened senses and 6th sense, the Spidey Sense.

She started off by trying to kick him in the legs, ready to strike him down, but he jumped, landing steadily on his feet before rounding a kick into her side, which seemed to have landed correctly as she grimaced and fell to her feet. It seemed as if they were dancing to the others, kick, jump, roll, punch, duck and repeat. It seemed to be a steady rhythm, something which was flowing smoothly. And they watched, for the first time in the four months that Natasha Romanoff had been training this kid, lose. She fell back onto the ground breathing heavily, as Peter placed a hand softly to her chest and pining her to floor, an awed expression on his face, one matching the others.

"Do you yield?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yeah," Nat started, "yeah, I do. Good job kid."

He smiled his thanks to her, before lifting himself up, to immediately, buckle and fall to the floor, lying flat on his back to catch his breathe. Steve rushed forward at the same time as Clint, to help up the poor kid and Sam, who tried to assist Natasha, but was declined and went to stand at the side. That was tiring, he thought. His breathing stilled and he looked around the training room or should he have said hall, landing on Nat. She was smiling at him.

"You did great Peter, now I just need that energy every time," she said, already recovering from her attack while he was still breathing abnormally, "we also need work on your endurance and recovery, we can't have you out of battle because you're tired and can't take any more hits."

He nodded, before getting up and walking over to the center of the hall.

"One more round?" he asked slyly.

"You're on."

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A/N: Sooo, how was that? Like I said before, leave a review, I hope yo enjoyed this. Little bit of action here and there, would you call this action? I wouldn't have a clue. So tell me if you like it, thanks.