Peter woke up the next morning in the same bed he had been in for all of his other past stays in Avenger's Tower. After getting back to the tower last night he had excused himself to the room for some sleep. Sure, it was pretty early, but who could really blame him? The only sleep he had gotten for the past few days was either because he was knocked unconscious or drugged. While dreamless, the sleep wasn't entirely satisfying, since he didn't actually enter REM sleep. That left for an exhausted Peter. Luckily, that exhaustion drove the nightmares away.

He dreaded their reappearance, and really hoped they would go unnoticed by the other occupants of the tower. Speaking of them... what Peter dreaded even more was being formally (or was it informally, considering the domestic context?) introduced to the Avengers as Peter Parker. Sure, he knew them from the past couple of days, it would be stupid of him not to get familiar with the attitudes of his fellow heroes, but this situation was entirely different. He was going to have to live with them, however temporary it might be. He was going to have to have conversations. Peter always hated socializing with new people. Scratch that, he hated socializing in general. He was pretty sure he had some form of social anxiety. He could never think of anything to talk about, and thus every time he had to speak with a stranger he clammed up and things got really awkward. It wasn't that Peter didn't try... he really wanted to have normal conversations! He wanted to be able to make small talk. But every time he tried, fear grabbed him by the throat. He would continuously go through all the ways the conversation could go wrong in his head. He would psych himself out and in the end never say a word.

Peter was just glad Spider-Man didn't have the same crippling social anxiety as Peter Parker.

But that didn't matter, now. That Avengers knew who he was, and no matter how hard he would try to hide behind the mask now, it was pointless. He was Peter Parker to the Super-Powered group now, and Peter was an awkward kid who was so weak and pathetic he couldn't even hold a normal conversation with a store cashier, let alone his idols.

But he digressed. Peter didn't have a single clue how the next few hours of his life would play out. He didn't even know if he should leave the room with or without the mask. And where can he go when he leaves his room? Are certain areas off limits? What if he runs into someone? What's he supposed to say to the Avengers if he does run into them... this is their home! What if he ran into someone? What does one say to an Avenger in their own tower?

Peter hates imposing on the heroes like this.

With a groan, the teenager leaves the soft, comfortable bed. It's probably best to get everything over with. He couldn't just hide in this room forever, however appealing it sounds. He glances around the room for a second, half hoping to find something that needs his attention more than the impending doom waiting for him at the door. Except there's nothing. Peter sighs despairingly, knowing he's probably just being a drama queen. He eventually opts to keep his suit on. It wouldn't protect him from the Avengers opinions on him, not now that they knew his circumstances, but at least it might hopefully ease his self-conscious tendencies.

Spidey leaves the room slowly, glancing down the hall to see if anyone is out there. There isn't. Peter meanders hesitantly down the hall, taking his time. Unlike previous journeys down this way, Peter takes his time looking around him. Every ten or so yards he would pass doors on either side of the hallway, lined perfectly parallel. The boy notices something on each of the doors, marking the wooden barrier. A shield... red hourglass... a hammer... wait, are these symbolizing the Avengers rooms? Do they room next to each other? Oh god... thinking of the World's Greatest Heroes in such a normal way, like college dorm mates or something, is so weird. Peter walks a little faster.

When the teen finally reaches the kitchen, his heart drops to his stomach. Tony Stark is sitting at the island counter, sipping a cup of coffee.

That's yet another thing that disturbed the boy. Tony Stark had gotten close. Too close. Peter was a fool to have allowed the man to get into his mind. That was how it always starts. First the man gains his trust, then stomps it into the ground, and Peter, having put his faith in Tony, wouldn't be able to fight back. Yes, Peter knows that rationally, it isn't likely the Ironman would purposefully get into his head to ruin him. Peter even wants to be able to put trust in someone, because being alone hurt, and even if it is faux comfort, the young hero needs that security. It wasn't to be, though. Peter's brain is now hardwired to assume everyone was and is out to hurt him. He'd subconsciously built the walls that he desperately wants to tear down.

Unless he doesn't really want to break those walls? Peter isn't sure himself anymore. While there's that desperate need for support, there is also an underlying fear that made him absolutely dread it as well. A fear of what would happen if he's wrong. A fear of how broken he would be if he was betrayed a second time by someone he thought he could trust. What's that saying again? Once bitten, twice shy. Well what happened after being bitten twice?

Once bitten, twice shy, bitten twice, Hope will die. His mind supplied helpfully.

Thanks Doctor Seuss, was his sarcastic thought back.

Peter was so confused. He didn't even know himself anymore. He couldn't control his thoughts or feelings... it felt like he was going crazy. He probably shouldn't be here. He should've turned away from Tony when he had the chance...

Chance. Probability. That was something Peter understood. What were the scientific odds of Tony being some evil person trying to get under his skin? They were low. The odds that a superhero billionaire playboy philanthropist wanted to hurt some mutated teen who had nothing to do with the older were very improbable. Peter found comfort in this fact, as he always had found comfort in science and technology. At least those things wouldn't manipulate him. Anyway, the chance of Peter's fears becoming reality were poor. One might say, 'Oh, but what about that Parker luck of your's? Or lack thereof?' Well, Peter doesn't believe in luck. There is only circumstance.

The teen shakes his head. There he went again, off on another tangent. He feels as though he'd done that often lately. Not only that, but these thoughts were constantly contradicting each other. Was he bipolar? He doesn't think so...

"Kid, you listening?" Tony's voice cuts through Peter's musings.

The teen looks to the billionaire, "Umm... well..." Peter blushed.

"Yeah, I figured." Tony smirked, "Anyway, come on over. I've got to talk to you and I figured it might as well be over breakfast." The man presents a plate that Peter hadn't noticed he'd been holding before. There are scrambled eggs and apple slices. Tony hands Peter the plate and guides the boy over to the kitchen table. Peter opts to sit across from Tony. Side by side is too close.

"I might as well just cut to the chase. You're a witness in a police case and a runaway, and harboring you right now is complicated and possibly illegal." The man states matter of factly. Peter cringed. So this was the part where they turned him in...

"Furthermore, If you are filed as a runaway, your parents can press charges against those allowing you stay with them or abiding you. Your aunt would almost certainly try to pin the abuse on someone else, and might try using me, and by extension, the Avengers, as a scapegoat. We really can't afford that bad publicity with all the complaints of damage we already get when we fight the bad guys. So obviously, we can't keep you hidden here forever. That doesn't mean I'm going to bring you to the police right this second, though." Peter looks up at Tony from where he had been playing with his eggs.

"The Avengers and I decided it would be best if we don't go to the police for a few days. We want to let you settle in, perhaps get a bit more comfortable with your new situation before we dive into political formalities. Maybe in a week or so we'll go to authorities. I will hire a lawyer to deal with this and I'll pay for the case and hearing to not be publicized. Anyone who knws about it with be held under a non-disclosure agreement. After all that is settled and Alexandra Parker-" Peter flinches, "Is put away for her crimes, there is, of course, the issue of living situations. I can't control your decision, but I'm guessing you don't want to go into foster care, and no rational CPS representative would allow a 15-year old kid to be adopted by an Avenger. There would also be identity issues on your side as well. If anything, I would recommend emancipation. You're old enough and I'm sure I can pull some strings, maybe set up a fake apartment and job to lead suspicion of you living with the World's Mightiest Heroes away. We'll go from there. Until then, let's just settle. How's all that sound to you?" Tony explains.

Peter is having a hard time digesting everything the man had said. "Why... why are you helping me so much? I don't want to be a bother. You really don't have to-"

"Stop." Tony interrupts. "I know I don't have to. I don't have to do anything. I'm Tony Stark. Anything I do is because I want to do it. I want to help you. Stop worrying about it. And money is no object to me, so don't get your spandex in a twist about it. Just accept it and move on. Speaking of the material from Hell, I would ask why spandex, but I guess it's a given considering your financial circumstances. I am definitely not going to allow someone who lives in my tower to wear something like that in dangerous situations. I'm definitely going to upgrade that."

Peter can't quite catch up to everything that poured out of the billionaire's mouth, "Wait, Mist- I mean Tony, you really don't have to make me a suit. Mine is fine."

"Nonsense. I don't take no for an answer. Besides, it will be a fun challenge. I've never had to take flexibility into account when designing suits before. It will definitely be interesting. But that can wait. We'll talk hero later, until then, you need to settle in." And just like that any chance of Peter talking Tony into not bothering with the suit was lost. Though Peter doubted he would ever be able to convince the hard-headed billionaire genius that he didn't need anything new.

"I might as well debrief you on how life goes around here now. Everyone usually eats supper together. Breakfast and Lunch are a free for all, unless someone decides to make something for everyone, that is. Friday nights are movie nights. Yes, the Avengers have movie nights, and yes, it is as awesome as it sounds. We usually take turns picking since a general consensus of a single movie is rare. Missions are top priority. You won't be joining in on those, not yet at least, but I figured you might want to know in case you are ever wondering where everyone has gone. Well... everyone except Bucky and usually Banner. Bucky is... well, it would be best he didn't go into dangerous situations for awhile. And Bruce is the last resort kind of guy, since he doesn't exactly love going green. So if everyone else is gone, you can ask one of them. I'd recommend Bruce. You're more likely to get a response. And let's see... that's all I can really think of right now. Otherwise everyone has their own routine. Oh yeah, speaking of routine, we've got to figure out yours. There's a bathroom connected to your room. All the necessary utilities are obviously in there... toilet, sink, shower, the likes. There's a small closet in there that should have towels, soap, shampoo, conditioner, extra toothbrushes and toothpaste, deodorant, and the other necessities. Oh, and shavers too, but you won't be needing that for awhile." The smug smirk Tony had at that last statement caused Peter to glare at the man. So what if puberty was hitting a little late? It would be more of a hindrance if anything else if he had to deal with facial hair.

Peter is salty and in denial.

Furthermore, there was a bathroom in that room? He thought that was a closet... He wouldn't give Tony the satisfaction of his surprise.

Seeing that Peter had no intention of responding to his jibe, Tony continued on, "You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen at any time, and the living room is always open for lounging. We hang out in there pretty often. There are a few gaming systems, so I'm sure you could find someone to play with you, or just play on your own. That's what teenagers do, right? Play video games all day?"

Peter shrugged, "More or less." Less in his case. He didn't actually have any video game systems in his old house.

Tony took a moment to inspect Spidey. "You know, kid, you don't have to wear the costume everywhere. We all know who you are and it hardly looks all that comfortable."

"I know, I just..." Peter trailed off, unsure as to how he should elaborate.

"Right. I won't force you into anything you're uncomfortable with. Just know that whether you come out here with that mask on or not won't make anyone think of you any differently. Peter and Spider-Man are the same guy. We won't judge you for that." Tony finished with a sigh.

Peter still wasn't comfortable mentally with taking off the mask... especially around Tony, who had gotten so close to the kid underneath. The others were distant though. Maybe if he kept it off and avoided Tony he would be fine. Peter didn't want to take it off at all, of course. But, he also didn't want to draw attention to himself. Sticking out was always bad.

The nail that sticks out is hammered down.

No, it wasn't a good idea to stick out. Besides that fact, Peter knew he couldn't keep the suit on forever. It would smell, for one. And for two, he would have to deal with the court soon, as Tony had said. Peter needed to be prepared for being open in public. What better place to practice? Sometimes diving right in wasn't the answer.

So, it was decided than. Peter would be taking off the suit.

The teen looked at the billionaire, who had pulled out a Stark tablet and became occupied. Was it that obvious when Peter zoned out?

"Tony, I'm going to take a shower." Peter excused himself, standing up.

"Sounds good, kiddo. There'll be a change of clothes outside the door." Tony's eyes never leave the tablet as he types furiously, fingers gliding across the screen.

Peter couldn't find it in him to protest, and instead simply nodded. He didn't feel he would win this battle, anyway. Plus, the young hero didn't currently have a clean change of clothes. He left the kitchen, going back to the room.

Now that he thought of it, how would he clean his clothes? Peter had a hard time imagining a washroom in this tower. He could always go to the laundromat, but was he allowed to? Peter just realized he had no clue what his leaving privileges entailed. What if they didn't want him to leave? Would they try to keep him where they could monitor him? Would they imprison him if he left?

Peter was probably overreacting. Still, did he have to tell someone when he left? Did he have to ask permission, or just come and go as he pleased?

The teen shook the thoughts from his head. There wasn't any use in thinking so hard over a question he couldn't answer himself. He would ask later, if he could gather the courage. Yes, this was a later problem.

And with that, he found himself in front of the door to the room.

~~~~~~RTB~RTB~RTB~RTB~~~~~~~

It wasn't until Peter had stepped into the shower that he realized how dirty he felt. And not just from the dirt and grime of the past few days, but also because he could still feel venom on him, slithering over his skin, into every pore of his being.

For the second time in his life, the shower heat is on its highest setting. The shower is also much longer than necessary, Peter hopes Tony won't be mad.

When he finally leaves the shower, he glances at himself in the mirror and sighs. He's done it again. Peter hopes whatever clothes he's given will hide the pink tinge covering his entire body. Water burns are a nuisance...

Peter opens the door to the bathroom slightly, towel around his shoulders, and peeks out. As he had been told, there is a small pile of clothes outside the door. He grabs them and shuts the door again, quickly slipping into the clothes. Fortunately for him, the shirt has long sleeves as are the pants. Unfortunately, the clothing is much too big for him. This shouldn't surprise Peter, though. Why would there be teenage-sized clothes in Stark Tower? Also, he is by no means big for his age, as a matter of fact, he is quite the opposite. It's only natural, quite literally, for someone of spider genetics to be lithe, quick, and able to fit into small places.

Peter knows his size isn't his fault, but that doesn't make him feel any less self conscious on how well, or lack of how well, he fills out these clothes. They hang off him in a way that makes him feel like a six year old wearing their father's shirt. If the pants weren't drawstring, they would have surely fallen off by now. The shirt looks like that weird type that girls liked to wear where the neck was too big, thus it hangs off their shoulder in a school inappropriate way, because shoulders in school are illegal. Then again, those type of shirts were also usually cropped, so a girl would wear a tank top under it. He supposed that would mean he looks more like a girl wearing her boyfriend's clothes.

Oh god, Peter has to stop making these analogies that compares himself to a girl. He is as red as a tomato, and it's not even from the water burn. Only he manages to embarrass himself when nobody else is even around.

The teen has the sudden urge to forgo the 'normal' clothes route and simply put the costume back on. It isn't like he told Tony he would come back without the suit(N-Not that he wanted to appease the man!). As appealing as not leaving this room looking like this sounded, Peter wouldn't put the costume back on. He made a commitment to wear civvies, and had solid reasoning behind doing so. Besides... the suit is looking like a lesser choice by the second, what with how tattered and dirty and black it was.

It's this thought process that leads Peter to cautiously open his door, and turning around to close it.

"Huh. Wow, Peter, you look way more ridiculous in that getup that I had originally thought you would." A voice pipes up from behind.

Peter jumps so high he is surprised he didn't hit the ceiling, and turns so fast his back hits the door. It's Tony Stark again.

'Avoid him', his mind whispers.

"Slow down, kiddo, I'm not gonna hurt you." Tony soothes with a quirk at the corner of his lips. He eyes the younger boy critically. "Seriously though, you need something your size. I'll have Pepper go get some things tonight."

"Pepper?" Peter questions, still not leaving the defensive position he had taken against the door. Tony quirks a brow at that, but says nothing regarding it and instead answers his previous question.

"Virginia 'Pepper' Potts is the CEO of Stark Industry."

"Miss Potts really doesn't have to-" Peter is cut off.

"Nonsense. She won't mind. I'm pretty sure women like this kind of stuff. It will give her an excuse to get something for herself, on me of course. Besides, if you walk around my tower looking like that for any longer than necessary, I'll probably die of secondhand embarrassment. Don't apologize." In the end of the small rant, Tony had predicted and acted upon the slightly guilty and apologetic expression that had rose on Peter's face while he had been talking.

There's a moment of tense silence before Tony breaks it again, "Quite the blush you have there, Spidey. You're red all over. Literally."

"Right... I'm just gonna go then... Umm, bye." As Peter makes a hasty retreat, he doesn't notice the slightly quirked brow of confusion and narrowed eyes of suspicion.

—-

Peter doesn't see anyone else for the next hour or so. He spends this time on his computer in the living room. He's working out better dissolvents for his web fluid. Currently, it dissolves slowly over the course of two or three hours, but Peter needs something that would get rid of the webs right away. He had developed an acid based dissolvent that could break apart the proteins of his web earlier in his Spidery career, but it is a bit too acidic, and often irritates human skin. If only he could find a way to catalyze the enzymatic processes that happened naturally without using a substance with a pH lower than that which human skin was adapted to-

The teen's thought process is cut off by a sudden laugh from above him. Peter closes his computer and looks up. Hawkeye's head is poking out of an air vent. The older man holds his chin in his hand as he leans it against the vent floor.

"Spider-Kid, is that you? You look great! Ten stars. You belong on the runway." Clint gushes sarcastically.

Peter gave him an unimpressed stare. "Thanks. It's from my homeless casual collection."

"I'll take twenty." Clint jokes.

"You'd better. It was designed by one Tony Stark." Peter plays along.

Clint laughs, but rather than at Peter this time, it's with him. "You're funny, kid. I like that." Clint pauses for a second, considering something, then says, "Hey, if you're not busy, how about we play a game?"

"A game?" Peter uncertainly repeats.

"Sure, why not?" Clint hops out of the vent. "What do you say to, ah, Minecraft?"

"I- Okay?" Peter doesn't know what caused the sudden... whatever this is, in Hawkeye.

"Great!" The man plops onto the couch next to Peter, who suppresses his jump of surprise. Clint pulles open a drawer in the coffee table that is situated in front of the couch. He grabs two PlayStation remotes and tosses one to Peter, who's Spidey-Sense alerts him to the oncoming device. He catches it with practiced ease.

"Hey JARVIS, turn on the TV and the PlayStation then open 'Minecraft', 'kay?" Clint asks, and the TV immediately switches on, the game already on screen.

Which is how Peter ends up playing the Minecraft for the next three hours.

Because Peter had never played before, Clint has to spend the first half hour teaching the teen the basics, how the controls work, what different mobs do, what materials build what, etc. They stayed together at first when gathering resources and charting the map. They build a house of cobbles near a village they found. It's a big village, with the four different types of houses customary to Minecraft, a blacksmith, and a chapel. Eventually though, they split up to do their own thing. Where Peter prefers mining down with tunnels and occasionally exploring an underground cave, Clint is spelunker. Not only this, but Clint only kill mobs and animals from a distance with bow and arrow, whereas Peter finds that close up with a sword is easier. Clint's obsession with the bow, though founded, is impractical. Peter comments as much. Their chicken farm is getting out of hand, and with the amount of feathers they need every time Clint loses his arrows, the weapon is simply inefficient. But naturally, Clint defends his Paleolithic weapon, and continues using it.

When they eventually get bored and exit the game, it is clear to Peter why the archer wanted to play with the sentence that the man mutters, "Hey kid, I wanna tell you something."

Peter cocks his head, a motion for the man to continue.

Clint looks anywhere but at the teen in front of him as he rubs his head. The older starts a little awkwardly, "Well... I just wanted to say- Well I thought you should know..."

Peter raises a brow.

Clint sighs and looks at his folded hands in his lap. "I'm sorry about what I said to you in that Hydra cell... I didn't know your life circumstances, and I shouldn't have assumed it was your choice to be living with your aunt. I didn't know your age, and maybe the stress of the situation desensitized me, but that's not an excuse. I said things I shouldn't have." The archer apologized, to the surprise of Peter. The teen had not expected this to be what the man wanted to talk about. He thought it would be more 'life around the tower' stuff.

Peter looks Clint in the eyes. "It's okay. I understand. Jokes are a coping mechanism that I use too, and how would you have ever known I am still underage. Assuming I was old enough to at least be out of high school was a given. I don't blame you for that, and I don't hold a grudge." Peter assures. It's the truth, too. Sure, this doesn't mean Peter trusts the man, but at least he seems honest. Hawkeye seems incredibly prideful, and for him to swallow that pride to apologize...

Peter has the sudden urge to put on the mask, the same one he had around Tony. Well Shi-

His speculation is cut off by the chuckle of the Avenger. "God, you really are a good kid... It's such a shame you have it so hard... I guess the kindest people really are treated the worst. That seems to happen a lot in this business..." Another sigh as Clint crossed one leg over the other and leaned back into the couch. There were a couple minutes of comfortable silence as the two were left to their own thoughts.

"Do you have any clue how hard it was to stay serious with what you're wearing?" Barton suddenly asks.

Which is how Clint ends up webbed to the ceiling, something that is never to be spoken of amongst the residents of the tower.

The next day, Peter wakes up significantly earlier than he had the previous day. That is the reason why, when he walks into the kitchen to find almost every Avenger, and then some, in the the same room, he nearly has a sensory overload induced heart attack.

"Steve, can you believe this guy?! It's practically blasphemy!" Tony exclaims, looking at Captain America and throwing his arms in the general direction of Clint, who is sitting next to Natasha, while she is doing a crossword.

The Super Soldier rolls his eyes at the billionaire.

"For the last time, Tony," Clint growls, "It is not considered cannibalism when I eat eggs." The Archer was glaring over a plate of scrambled eggs.

"You can't sleep in a god damn nest and still claim you aren't partial bird, Feathers." Tony challenges.

"It's not a nest, it's a hammock!"

"Oh please, I've heard you refer to it as a nest when you were talking to Natasha once, Merida. Are you two hiding something? Is Clint a bird mutant? When's the last time you've eaten bird seed Clint?! I bet you blame the bird feeder being empty on the squirrels!" Stark says snidely.

Clint facepalms, "I'm sick of your snark, Stark."

Tony crosses his arms over his chest and raises a skeptical brow, " ... How long have you been waiting to use that line?" Tony is suddenly placated.

"All week." Clint grins.

"Twelve letter word for the process of rising bread." Natasha cuts in.

"Fermentation." Steve flipsto the next page of his newspaper.

Most of the room gives him weird looks, as if they hadn't expected his to know the answer.

"What? It's cooking. About the only thing I could do before the serum." Steve defends. It seems this is explanation enough for his team, as they mutter their understanding.

Peter has never seen something so domestic in his life.

He wonders if anybody would notice if he just walks out very slowly. He is too late though, as Bruce, who is typing on a tablet, sees him. The man motions Peter over, towards the empty seat next to him. The obvious signal draws the attention of the other Avengers, who have now noticed the boy in the kitchen entryway.

"'Morning, Peter." Tony greets as Peter makes his way over to sit by Bruce.

"Good morning." Peter says back, and just like that, the conversation between tower residents goes on unhindered. The hero doesn't know what to do now. Do they expect him to join in the conversation or is he supposed to be quiet? He knows which of the two it would have been with Alexandra, but obviously this situation is vastly different. Peter still isn't clear on what his place is here... So far, he feels like a visitor. Like one of those foreign exchange students that move in with another family while learning in another country. But how is he supposed to feel?

The teen doesn't have enough exposure to this environment to come up with a rational answer to that question. For now, he has to continue observing.

Instead, he focuses on what Bruce is doing. The tablet he is working on catches the corner of Peter's eye, and he is immediately intrigued. The formula looks like the radioactive decay of the isotope Uranium-238...

Bruce notices Peter is looking and smiles at the teen softly. He shows Peter the screen, "If you're curious, I'm calculating the gamma secretion of Uranium over the course of several years. Though, my calculations seem to be a bit off... I can't seem to-"

"You've used the wrong half life for that isotope." Peter cuts in, "The one you've put in the original formula is 704 million years, which is the half life of Uranium-235. You need to use 4.46 billion for isotope 238." Peter explains a little over-enthusiastically.

Bruce stares at the 15-year old for a solid minute, only blinking once. Peter blushes. He just corrected Bruce Banner, one of the greatest scientists since Einstein. He cut the man off then started rambling his mistake. If Bruce didn't like Peter before, now he surely-

Bruce shakes out of his stupor, "Wow, I know you said you've read my work, but I didn't think you knew so much about elemental decay... you're a smart kid. I didn't think you would recognize this so easily. And you're right, I did use the wrong half life. Do you have this stuff memorized?" Bruce asks, impressed with Peter's apparent dedication to chemistry.

"Well," Peter blushes in embarrassment, "I wouldn't say I'm brilliant or anything... I've just had a lot of time on my hands, and science is the only subject I was ever interested in, apart from math. Learning about the Mesopotamian code of Hammurabi and its effects on society don't really do it in for me... I like consistency. Human behavior isn't an exact science like, well, science."

Bruce chuckles as he sips his cup of hot tea, "I understand that. Social Studies was never my strong suit either."

Peter nods.

The scientist takes a minute to think, and then, "You know, the lab gets pretty drab at times. Maybe, if you'd like, you could come down every so often. You could learn some things, and teach me some things as well. Would you mind?" The man offers.

Peter can't stop the excitement that bubbles in his chest. Him? Work with Doctor Banner? Peter must be dreaming, but he isn't. He is really at Avengers Tower, being offered the chance to work with a world famous scientist. Peter could scarcely believe it. That's why, without thinking, he answered, "I don't mind at all! Working with you sounds great, Doctor Banner! I- I mean if you don't think I'll get in the way, that is..."

Bruce smiles, "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Meanwhile, Peter wants to slap himself. Seriously? He wants to seclude himself with a biogenetic scientist? Experimentation was a large possibility- No! This is Bruce Banner he's talking about. He is timid, and most certainly understands Peter in the subject of being a genetic freak of nature. But still... Peter shouldn't be getting so close... or maybe he should? These people were going to help him. Unless they double cross him that is. But if you can't trust the Avengers, who can you trust? The Avengers work with the government, though...

Peter is in so much turmoil nowadays... he really wants to take his mind off it all, to just relax. Nothing has ever done that for him except science. Perhaps the risk was worth it... Maybe he would be alright.

Peter knows he won't be able to resist the temptation, no matter how potentially dangerous the situation is. The boy makes up his mind. He is going to take Bruce up on that offer.

As Peter looks around the kitchen full of conversing Avengers, he feels a little twinge in his chest.

Which is accompanied by the sudden urge to run, hide, and put on his mask.

Blah... three whole weeks. That might become my new update schedule, though, sorry everyone.

By the way, this is called chapter 11 (Part One) because it was supposed to be longer, but that's too much for only one chapter.

Furthermore, if you've noticed a change in writing style, good. Sbayless44, account on , has become my beta editor, so a big shout out and thanks to them! Hopefully my writing can improve now. Looking forward to seeing you all next time!

~Sayonara