Peter painstakingly scaled the Avengers tower, taking great care to concentrate on sticking to the glass surface. His trusty drone hovered nearby, recording his monumental effort per instructions from TIMH, his AI. Peter didn't know that the program had recorded every single fight he'd been involved in. He just created the drone to take pictures of himself to sell to The Daily Bugle.

He finally reached his destination. He was fixated on an open window above him. He figured he could slither in and find Rocket.

He could hear voices and realized that he was in forbidden territory; he had climbed into the Avenger's quarters. 'Maybe that's for the best,' he thought to himself. 'I really need Rocket right about now. I haven't ever been beaten up this badly before.'

"Rocket! Uh, guys? I need some help," he said as he limped towards the voices. Rocket popped his head around the corner and froze.

"Somebody get a medic or something! Kid, you look like someone dropped you on your flarkin' ass or something," Rocket swore. He got out of the way as he heard Steve Rogers come out of the living room.

"Oh my," Steve said. "Tony! Call Dr. Cho and get a gurney up here stat!" Steve ran to pick up Peter. He carried his slight form into the living room and sat him on one of the couches.

Peter's normally shaggy hair was plastered to one side of his head with clotted blood where Osborne had dragged his up the side of the building. His side, which he had put a makeshift bandage on, was still oozing blood, and he appeared to have a broken wrist and ankle. Natasha came over and looked at his head. "The head wound has already healed," she marveled. "Peter, I'm going to work on your hair, if that's ok with you."

Peter looked at her with glassy eyes. "Ok, but my side is killing me and I've got a splitting headache."

She looked at his eyes and was alarmed. "You're concussed." She looked at Tony. "How long until that gurney gets here?"

Just then, the gurney rolled up. Steve and Tony followed behind as they took Peter to the center for treatment. The two older men had grave expressions on their faces as they sat in the waiting room.

They didn't have to wait long Dr. Cho came out after taking care of Peter's wounds and putting him through the MRI. She had an astounded look on her face.

"Gentlemen, Mr. Parker is an extremely lucky young man," she said as she approached them. "His regenerative capabilities are absolutely astounding. His side has already begun healing."

"That must be from the spider bite," Tony said thoughtfully. "Osborne must have been insane to think he could claim him as property. I'd never even entertain a thought like that. It's enslavement."

Peter's phone rang, and Tony automatically answered it. "Stark," he said, then grimaced. "I mean, this is Peter's phone."

"Good. Just the person I needed, actually," MJ said briskly. "How is he? I'd like to see him if I could. I'd love to give him a piece of my mind." She took a deep breath, then continued on. "I also have information for you, Mr. Stark, but I don't want to give it to you over the phone."

Tony chuckled. "What are you, his secretary?"

"Kind of," MJ admitted. "May I come to see Peter?"

"It's not a pretty sight," Cap said, grimacing.

"Is it ever?" MJ snarked.

MJ arrived an hour later, trailed by Happy, who had a 'whoo, boy' look on his face. Pepper followed, looking confused.

"I thought we were on lockdown," Pepper said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping a foot in irritation. "What gives, Tony?"

"Oh, don't blame Tony," Happy said. "That young lady is a pack of C-4. I would not cross her. Ever. That's Peter's girlfriend MJ."

They watched as MJ went in to Peter, who was asleep. Tony made sure audio was on. He was very interested in what she was going to say.

"There's my sleepy little spider," MJ murmured, a frown crossing her face. Peter stirred and slowly opened his eyes.

"Oh, hey, MJ. What are you doing here? It's great to see you," he said, trying to sit up. "I've missed you."

MJ got a stern look on her face, and everyone listening and watching caught their breaths. The words that came out of her mouth sounded familiar. "What the hell, Peter? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Are you out of your mind?"

"I wasn't about to let that bus load of people fall victim to the Goblin's zombie gas when I had the antidote," Peter protested. "He just caught me off guard."

MJ softened a bit. "Then you haven't been eating enough. Peter, don't you have any self-preservation skills at all?"

"I do. Otherwise, I would have been skewered by that stupid glider of his. He skewered himself and he's dead," Peter protested weakly.

"I'm going to let you rest," MJ said softly, kissing him on the forehead. She turned and went out into the waiting room where the adults sat. "What?" she snapped. "He does stupid stuff sometimes."

"What was the information you wanted to share with me?" Tony asked impatiently.

"I knew Peter would lose this, so I kept the information for him," she said, flipping through her phone. Everyone looked pointedly at Tony and Pepper, but they ignored them.

"We had to run our own DNA tests with our partners. I ran Peter's, he ran mine. I didn't let him know that his paternal line is Stark. 49 percent. His maternal line is Fitzsimmons. I reran the test after the spider bite and the Stark DNA was 51 percent. Mr. Stark, why was your DNA tied into a spider?"

"Oh, no, they didn't," Tony gasped. "Osborne and my dad were good friends at one point. They worked on the spider project along with Richard Parker and Curt Connors."

Pepper was incredulous. "They used your DNA to splice into spiders? Why would your father do that?" She stopped. "You have a son!"

"She's the one who dumped me," Tony said sadly. "I loved that woman, I really did. I couldn't believe it when she just disappeared. Broke my heart."

"Oh, Tony," Pepper said sympathetically. Mary had broken it off with Tony right before she was hired.

Pepper looked in the room, and Peter was out like a light. She watched him sleep momentarily and wondered why she hadn't noticed his resemblance to Tony in the first place; perhaps it was that she simply wasn't expecting it.

"Let him sleep," she suggested, "and maybe he can get a haircut tomorrow. His hair is all over the place."