"Why do you want to go back?" Hank levels Connor with a stare. "There's literally nothing back there to make you want to go back. They probably would have realised by now that you're gone and already would have replaced you with an RK800 identical to yourself."

Connor bows his head down, thinking carefully. It's true, now that he thinks about it, Hank didn't really have any personal connections left for him back there, and Connor was just as easily replaceable. The effort doesn't really amount when the pay off is returning to a shitty world where Androids, his very own kind, are treated like second class citizens.

Maybe it's the guilt factor in him playing up, the nagging reminder that he really isn't a person - far from it actually. He's just labelled as property. To be broken at a whim and to be sold on every other street corner. He's just merchandise, that somebody has made to fulfil a purpose. He has a purpose, and to give that up simply because he doesn't like it or agree with it would be to give up on the very reason he was created in the first place.

It wasn't fair, but really what was the moral grounding here? While everything Hank suggested was one hundred per cent true, without a doubt, Connor felt (?) strongly about the topic. It was a sore spot in him, an error in his programming. He didn't want to follow orders, but he also didn't want to be pointless. Following orders was his point, so if he didn't have that, he didn't have anything.

In this universe, even down to his very mortality, he was on the same level as everybody else. If he died, Connor knew that he wouldn't be coming back, not in this form, unless extreme repairs were made by a Cyberlife professional, which this universe severely lacked. There was no local Cyberlife cloud to upload his saved data. Everything that made him, him. Everything that separates himself from the countless other identical RK800's could be lost, just as easily as anybody else could lose their life.

The thought filled him with warmth. Here he was just like anybody else, and here, people didn't treat him like he was expendable or replaceable.

"I…" He begins, hesitating with his words, an unusual act for him. Hank notices this and softly encourages him.

"You..?" Hank is being surprisingly patient with him, given his background with Androids and other people in his life.

"I don't really want to go back," Connor admits. It's alarming, to say the least, that he's finally said something to secure him in the category of deviant, the very thing he's been programmed to track down, fight and help prevent from occurring.

Connor now lacked a clear purpose.

—

In an office in a S.H.I.E.L.D. sanctioned building, an old woman writes out a prescription for one Peter Benjamin Parker, while aggressively shoving a small bottle of pills at him. On the label, it reads 'Pre-mutation X-Gene Suppressants'. Peter huffs as she scrambles out of the room. Director Fury is sat behind a desk on the other side of the room, quietly spectating.

"What was that about?" Peter bites out. Fury raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"One Thaddeus Ross wanted all aspects of every vigilante documented down on a register. That just then? Wasn't up to me. I can't control what the council wants, and I know jackshit about their motives most of the time, but what I do know is that they probably just want this as step one into controlling the Avengers."

Peter rolls his eyes but doesn't argue when Fury passes him a pile of stapled documents for him to fill in, some of which included multiple choice questions. 'What the actual Fuck?' Peter thinks when faced with the fourth question. It's a 'number in order of importance' one asking him to state whom he'd consider was his closest friend, with three names as options. 'Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, Mary-Jane Watson, Gwen Stacey and Connor Anderson'. A) Gwen Stacey happened to be dead and B) How the hell did they have all this down on paper like that?

After getting over his initial shock, Peter answered the rest of the questions and made his way out of there. The moment he steps out of the front door of the building, he breaks into a sprint. Making his way to Stark Tower, not stopping until he got there. He locks himself up in his room, throwing the white bottle of pills on his bedside, reminding himself to discard it later, in a place where the contents of the trash aren't recorded by the tower's software.

Knowing now that the government had information that he could now have used against him, including for some reason his favourite Thai food place, was not comforting in any way. Peter was aware of the Spiderman controversy that the press and media had whipped up for him. The daily bugle always calling him a menace, trying to put a gruesome twist to every one of his outings, bringing up the number of people he couldn't save.

Peter knew that there wasn't anything wrong with saving people, but for every person, he couldn't save, made him wonder if maybe he was fast enough - or agile enough, that maybe things would've turned out differently. A great quote he'd once heard that he'd never been able to find who said was "There is always room for improvement."

That's just how it starts though. There's the nasty press exposure which he ignores, and then there are the people closest to him reinforcing him, telling him that he is enough. That's when the doubt is seeded. When people tell him things that he knows he wants to hear is when he begins to really think, is that true? Or are they just humouring me?.

It's a difficult market to break into, and he knows that New York demands nothing short of perfection from its local vigilante. If the philosophy that there was always room to improve was true, then Peter knows that he'll never be anywhere near perfect enough for New York.

—

"Peter," Tony begins the next day at the breakfast bar, catching Peter scull down a pint of orange juice in a few seconds, while shovelling dry toast down his throat. It's unusual, as this early in the morning Tony's either in his lab or having his daily sleep in until one in the afternoon. His tone sobers the mood completely, and catches Peter completely off guard.

Peter sets down his empty glass, and puts down the rest of the toast.

"Yes?" He responds, giving his complete attention in. Tony puts a document on the breakfast bar, in the space between them. Peter looks through it. He can hardly understand anything in it. In through the door walks a man dressed in a suit, wearing round sunglasses. When he takes a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar that Peter realises he puts down a cane by himself. He's blind.

"It means, that somebody is proposing to take custody/adopt you. Tony's never formally adopted you and you've just been in his custody as a temporary foster situation, which would typically last until you turn 18." Peter scrunches up his face. Who'd be interested in adopting him anyways? When he looks further into the signed documents he reads the words name 'Norman Osborn' signed at the end of the page.

The blind man, holds out his hand and introduces himself.

"I'm a lawyer, Matthew Murdock." Peter gently takes the hand in his own, shaking it. "In the case that you don't want to be placed in the care of Norman Osborn with a legitimate reason that can be recognised in court, I'm here to make an argument on behalf of Mr. Stark to keep you in his custody. If you consent to Mr Osborn having custody of you though, then everything is agreed and I'm required. Custody transition should be pretty simple and standard."

Peter nods slowly, as if he were a child and understanding Matthews simple terminology was extremely difficult for him. Tony takes out a file with a few other sheets in it. He hands it over to Peter.

"You have until the end of the week to turn these into the court, if no preference of custody is shown, then a custody battle will occur. Since you were only under my custody via foster care, you're technically open for adoption." Tony slowly leaves the room, not before stealing a piece of toast off of Peter's tower of bread.

Peter flicks through the new documents. They had already been prepared with Norman Osborn's and Tony's signature in all the required spots. Even most of his own details had been filled out for him beforehand. They only blank space was the line at the bottom of the last page for own signature. It'd almost seem like Tony was setting up all the proper documents in favour of Norman Osborn adopting him.

But Tony didn't want him gone, did he? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him in his mind. All he had caused for Tony was pain and grief. All he had done was waste his time, money and resources. And what had he given back? Absolutely nothing. Peter can't recall a single thing that he had done for Tony. That's when it hit him. He was probably like a parasite in Tony's eyes. Taking more than he gave up.

What an extremely selfish teen he must be? Who in their right mind even wants to work with teens in the first place. They were moody, hard to work with and downright uncooperative in most situations. Norman Osborn on the other hand, clearly he had experience in the subject matter, already having a probably moody and uncooperative teen of his own, Harry.

Now that he thinks back on it properly, and delves into his memories, Peter remembers Harry as nothing but delightful in his childhood. He had been one of the only kids in his childhood class to approach him and form a, what would seem like a lifelong lasting friendship if it hadn't been for Harry moving to a different preppy school half way through primary school.

Peter delicately places the bundle of documents and folders in his bag, flat against his laptop. He'd sign them later. If that was how Tony wanted to do things, then he'd play along. He didn't need Tony, and by the way, the papers had been pre-signed, then clearly Tony didn't want him here either.

Maybe he'd been alerted that Peter was a carrier of the X-Gene and had decided to drop him there and then. That was fine. Whatever. It was Tony's choice, and Peter honestly couldn't really blame him for wanting to drop him. Everybody else who had been rather close to him ended up with a less than favourable fate. Aunt May, Uncle Ben, his parents. The list went on, even extending to those who weren't related to him, such as his long-time crush Gwen Stacy.

Maybe all this was for the best.

—

After school that day Peter showed up at the local government administration office and turned in the papers himself. He'd also gone out of his way to drop by the stark tower administrative offices to register his two-week notice for his resignation from his position as an intern. He supposed it would be a little bit awkward between Mr Stark and himself if they were to continue to work together. Peter had made up his mind. It'd probably be better to become an independent vigilante rather than be in cahoots with the avengers, regarding the controversy around Spiderman as a vigilante, he'd basically just be bad press for the Avengers if he were to stay.

He doesn't really feel anything when writing out his resignation, nothing except for regrets that he didn't do it sooner. It was rather childish of him to believe that he could've stayed with Mr Stark for the rest of his life. He should've seen it sooner. Mr Stark taking custody of him was at the most temporal.

He stays that night at Ned's, whom had somehow gotten into contact with Connor and asked him also to stay over. The three of them watched movies late into the night, and when the last movie of the original star wars trilogy had ended, they stared at the blank screen in silence. Peter hadn't really been feeling the mood that night, or really concentrating on the movies in general.

Rather than having a great time with Ned and Connor, he'd been reflecting of the events that had transpired through the past few months. Everything he had ever known had been torn away from him, and not much good things had come out of the situation to compensate for his losses.

It was quite possibly that this offer to be taken in by Norman Osborn was the silver lining that he was looking for. Although his motives were unknown, Peter had a good feeling about it.

There's a buzzing in his back pocket, Peter carefully removes his phone to see that it's Mr Stark trying to reach him, not really feeling it, Peter declines the call. He doesn't really want to talk to Mr Stark right now, not after what had just transpired that morning. He's not exactly sure, but sometimes the things you weren't so sure about turned out to be the best possible ending to things. If he cut all ties to Mr Stark, he could start anew.

He didn't want to put Mr Stark through what Peter knew was an inevitable future. He could see it now, if he stayed there'd be nothing but bad press, as more and more evidence was pushing that Spiderman was closely knit with the Avengers, and what would the point be in delaying the heartbreak of leaving?

There was no doubt in his mind, this was absolutely necessary both for his own wellbeing and Tony's wellbeing. He hoped that there wouldn't be any hard feelings from Tony, and also hoped that he'd understand.

—

Dear Tony,

It is in both of our best interests that I just disappear from your own life and the Avengers.

I was never an Avenger to begin with.

Please, don't contact me unless there is an emergency.

I hope you understand,

Best wishes, with love from,

Peter Benjamin Parker.

—

No, Tony wasn't crying, you were.

Why did this have to be the first time that Peter called him Tony?