Hello all! Hope you are doing well. Super nervous for this chapter but the reunion is here!

Being back in the Tower changed everything for Peter; and nothing.

It felt like ages passed since he stepped through the glass doors at ground level. He stood there, frozen it seemed, for ages just outside. His neck craned up uncomfortable and tight as Peter stared up, tracing and retracing the windows and arches until he couldn't tell the difference between them anymore. It's not until someone rushed past him that he swallowed and allowed himself to move forward. Nothing outside changed. The structure remained the same. He still had the sense of awe, now he's sure it would never leave him, but it's comforting to know the building had a kind of continuality. It would always be the same, looking over the city, almost blending into the sky above.

Inside though was a different story. There were minute changes all around. New Stark computers sat behind the front desk manned by another person Peter wasn't familiar with. The pots of plants scattered around the floor were either filled with something new or had grown in the time of his absence. The air hung heavy against him; Peter swore it quieter than before but knew I might be his nerves talking.

He couldn't help the dramatic thoughts that came from being here. If anything, Stark Tower deserved the dramatics, added to its atmosphere. It felt different to be here. He felt different. Peter hoped that it was true, that in the time he was gone he grew into something more than the Peter of before. And although it felt like he was ascending again, that he was invited into another, better world once again because he was able to walk through these halls, he also couldn't help but think back to the first time he was here.

He was still Peter Parker and everything that came with being him: shy, weak, and scared. This was still Stark Towers. All the shiny new technologies, brilliant people, and opportunities.

Coming to the Tower again was like returning to a home once lost. Change was inevitable but Peter would bet anything that he knew most of its quirks and rooms. The good supply closets to hid in and which lab has the most even air conditioning. He's missed these things and more.

Peter spotted new posters in between the elevators. This was a home not his anymore. The awkward itch under his skin was just one signal. People walked by him without a second glance, nothing insidious but Peter knew it meant something. He lost his place in this ecosystem, returned from resident to guest. The comparison against his warm memories of the Tower were enough to make the journey to the elevator seem trite. He picked up his pace to press the button as fast as he could.

The plan was half-baked, a bit mad, he thoughts. Peter couldn't be sure that all the time spent working pointless, menial jobs was for nothing, maybe reading all his books let their wild stories fill his head was pointless in the long run. But if the hours spent working on radios, patching communications between people, and reading about life – it's hardships and rewards – taught him anything, it's that he was going to chase it. Peter was going to step forward and complete his half-baked plan.

The elevator doors closed behind him. Silence filled the air weighing down on him. Peter shifted before looking up.

"Hi, Friday," He said after swallowing. There were a thousand hopes inside him for the day. One being this was real and he didn't make the phone call from Friday up. That he was wanted, at least by someone.

"Hello Peter. Thank you for coming." He let out a breath. Their voice the same as always comforted him in more ways than he could describe.

"How - how are you?" He would normally feel a sort of stupid wash run down his spine after asking but that doesn't happen today. Today Peter was only worried for his friend.

There was a pause before they answered. "It has been quiet here. Less pleasant as of late." Peter shifted his feet again but otherwise stayed where he was at, kept his expression open as he continued to look up. "The things you required are in the kitchen. I hope - I'm glad to see you back."

Their words were short, to the point but it doesn't stop a smile from worming its way onto his face. He missed this; missed them. Peter brushed the bitterness of his time aside, not wanting to indulge in more negativity and let himself stand tall.

"I missed you too, Friday." He said.

They walked together, well Peter walked and Friday kept him company to the kitchen. The ingredients he asked for sat ready and waiting on the counter.

He glanced up. "Thank you, Friday."

"You're most welcome, Peter. Although I must say that pizza in the morning is an odd choice."

Peter's mouth gaped before snapping shut. He supposed it was an odd choice but then again, it was one he didn't fully think through. Did that bode ill for the rest of the plan? All Peter knew was that this was one of their first meals together. A day where Peter insisted he was fine – as always - to go home alone and one where Mr. Stark hadn't budged. It may be an odd one but it was the only one Peter wanted. They could step away from frozen pizza and put a bit more effort in.

"Well, it's not the most conventional." Peter said ducking his head. "It's just the first time we ate together and he pulled it out of the freezer and smirked so proudly when we finally figured out if the cardboard bottom went into the oven. I thought it would be symbolic or something but if you think something else is better than I'm all ears."

"It's a great idea. I'm ready to help in anyway."

Peter nodded. He reviewed the ingredients and tried not to let himself be overwhelmed by how out of his depth this all was. Still, Peter rolled up his sleeves and got to work thankful Friday thought to print out instructions.

"Um, Friday?"

"Yes?"

"Can you, that is – will you stay and help?"

"Of course. What's the basis of your pizza making knowledge?"

"I think you'll be overestimating anything I say so better to just hover, if that makes sense."

They stayed with him, correcting and helping him throughout. Dough kneaded and set to rise, Peter glanced up.

The kitchen exuded silence that extended to the rooms beyond. He's done a good job so far ignoring it but the niggling at the back of his neck seems to grow as he waits. It whispered that he wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't his space, his home, and he's encroaching on it.

He's also done a good job of not bringing Mr. Stark's name up since he arrived. Not truly on purpose, but now it felt like a looming shadow. He cleared his throat.

"Friday? Is, uhm, is Mr. Stark even in the building?" His voice sounded quiet even to himself.

"He is currently asleep. I can wake him if you…"

"No!" He interrupted. "I mean that's okay. This will take a while longer and then, I mean I don't want to get in anyone's way and it might be awkward, who am I kidding it's going to be and how did I let you talk me into this Friday?"

Peter wondered if the ceiling had fell; if something was crushing his chest. The pressure compacted, he gasped out trying to catch a breath. He looked down but nothings there besides his shirt crumpled between clenched hands. This was all so insane. He shouldn't be here. Why did he agree to this? Why did he think that any of this made sense?

"Peter? Peter?" Friday's voice sounded far, filtered under some kind of water. He squeezed his eyes open and shut as he bent over the island, hands braced on either side of his head. "Peter, shall I get someone?"

It took a moment, what was probably took long, to respond. The concrete cooled his hands, firm and unmoving under what feels like immeasurable pressure he exerted from his fingers.

"No," He gasped. "No, I'm okay. It's okay. I just need to catch my breath."

There's nothing on his chest. He was fine. Peter looked up but the ceiling remains as it was. Friday doesn't respond or maybe he doesn't hear but either way Peter squeezed his eyes shut once more and braced himself to follow through with his promise.

Follow the plan. He could do this. He would do this.

Peter breathed in as deep as his chest could expand and opened his eyes.

"What's next, Friday?"

"If you're not okay, I will get someone. We have medical staff on standby."

That brought him out. Laughter bubbled up his throat. Of course, there was medical staff in the building. Mr. Stark would hire the best and pay them enough to reside in the Tower. It was just like him to be worried enough (to care enough) to think to even do that. Peter stood up and grabbed the edge of the dough. He pulled at the edges and slowly peeled it from the bowl onto the board.

"I'm okay. Really. Minor breakdown completed and I would prefer not to call … anyone right now."

"Alright, Peter." There's a pause. Peter imagines Friday sighing to themselves. "Next you need to find the sauce and make sure the oven is hot enough."

The million and one things Peter wanted to say when he saw Mr. Stark again flitted through his mind. Conflicting thoughts that switched between a wounded accusation and forgiveness sat at opposite ends of his mind. He knew it wouldn't be so simple. Mr. Stark had his reasons, Peter knew that, but the way he went about it had hurt Peter. Doubt and hurt and resulting pain manifested inside of him after; left him reeling and isolated. Being here brought it all back.

Peter poured the sauce, spreading it in an even layer before stacking the rolled out dough full of toppings and sliding it into one of the many ovens.

Really, Peter thinks with a wry smile, how many ovens does one person need?

Now, he waited.

After setting a timer, Peter wandered down. It wasn't until he stood outside the doors that he realized he was heading to Lab 2. Their workspace. The car design and everything.

He hadn't given much thought to the project, what with everything else going on.

"We can get a full team in here to work on it. Whatever we need."

The voice and accompanying memory arrived unbidden and he wanted it gone as soon as it came. Along with Mr. Stark's words came the crushing uncertainty; fear itching at every nerve ending. He'd been gone a long time. His replacement must have finished the project now. This feeling wouldn't leave.

There's also surprise. Peter's eyebrows rise as the doors opened for him, still after all the time. He walked forward. Trepidation flooded his chest but Peter does the opposite of what he wanted and walked forward.

Everything is the same as he remembered. Everything from the car prototypes, to the chairs at the standing desks, down to the stacks of papers and Fiber One bar wrappers.

In a way, time has stopped in this room. Barely moving air winds its way around the desk and Peter's legs. He steps forward, runs a hand along the desk, dust. Peter can remember falling asleep at the chair in front of him, being so tired and life that sleep took him easily. A hand touched his shoulder and, with a gentle nudging, woke Peter. It was nothing out of the usual, but Peter couldn't help but think of Mr. Stark's gentle expression. A smile, one Peter hadn't seen before, lit his face. Mr. Stark's glasses were off and his eyes relaxed showing some lines around them.

"I don't pay you to sleep." He said with a wink. "Actually, I hate to wake you but look at this." And like a kid, or more accurately a very excited adult, Mr. Stark led Peter, still yawning, to a holograph, arm not moving from around his shoulder as they leaned forward to look.

It's like Peter could see the two of them as they were imprinted there by the window. Both unaware of whatever future awaited them. Peter sighed,

He was sure the team Mr. Stark hired would have finished their project. He was sure everything would be gone by now and instead of whatever this was he would find a room filled with another project or maybe even worse a blank room, erased of him. He was so sure.

Now, Peter wasn't sure what to make of it; didn't know what this meant.

"As much as Stark Industries gives tours, this lab is off limits."

Peter froze, back to the door. Slow as a snail his spine straightened allowing his shoulders to hunch forward, into himself. It was too soon. He wasn't ready. Why hadn't Friday warned him?

His voice hadn't changed. The professional, exasperated tone dug into his heart.

He tried to picture what Mr. Stark looked like behind him. How the man tapped his foot or was too busy to even look up from his StarkPad while he ordered what he thought was a stranger out of his lab.

"Well, I don't have all day. Believe it or not but I've got a company to run." Peter whipped around, not ready and yet not able to stop himself. His chest heaved and Peter saw Mr. Starks eyes widen.

He wasn't ready but he wanted to see Mr. Stark; to yell at him and cry and mostly, to thank him.

The room was insufferably quiet besides a small, "Fuck," from the man himself.

"Hi-Hi Mr. Stark." The tension continued to rise between them. Peter shifted and almost allowed himself to wish there was a plant he could hide behind like at the convention. "Am I late?"

If Peter felt frozen, Mr. Stark was trying to outdo him. Not even a twitch from Peter's attempted joke. He wanted the ground to swallow him whole, or maybe to swing far away out of the shadow of the Tower.

Mr. Stark breaks the silence, though his eyes never leave Peter. "Friday?"

"Yes, boss?"

"What's happening?"

"Peter has reinstated his internship, boss."

"Since when?" Mr. Stark paused. They both held their breaths until Mr. Stark waved a hand. "Never mind, who authorized this?"

Peter could see how this would be the most important question to the man. He doesn't want anyone, namely Friday, to get in trouble so he jumped in. Really, he can't comprehend his boldness when all Peter can hear is the beating of his heart so loud it's a surprise no one else could hear it.

"I did."

Mr. Stark couldn't seem to look him directly in the eye continued to stare just past him. There's something in his eyes that Peter can't name. They weren't cold, flat, like those months ago, nor were they filled with rage. They almost looked sad.

It made Peter aware of how much his precarious plan was filled with holes. He hadn't thought of Mr. Stark's reaction too much, being worried with his own and not wanting to dwell. If he was honest, Peter purposefully ignored contemplating about the man's reaction. He knew anxiety and overthinking would result in an imagined reaction so far from, what he hoped, would happen.

The man stared past him, like he wasn't there, like he was just an imprint ghost of the room. It was a hard, unforgiving look that made something inside of Peter tremble until, as if Mr. Stark flipped a switch, the man shrugged. Suddenly, it wasn't his Mr. Stark but one someone else; the person people would peer out of their offices to see walk by, the one the news followed with such aggression. Peter was awed despite being at the end of it.

"Get out of here, kid. There are no internships at Stark Industries anymore."

Thank you for reading!