Alright guys, it took a long time, but here is the third and final part. Now, the reason it took so long is because this chapter is a little over 12K words. I wasn't shooting for that much in the slightest, but I really didn't want to split it in half and mess up the flow or make you guys wait even longer for the ending. I hope that's alright.

Also, I just want to say thank you to you guys for giving this fic so much support. I really hope this part lives up to your expectations.

Okay, that's enough, I'll shut up. Get some water and maybe a snack because this part is really long. Enjoy :)

Later that night, Peter sits on the edge of his and MJ's shared bed after having already taken Morgan home earlier, his elbows resting on his knees, his cheek resting in the palm of his right hand. He's completely lost in thought, unable to think about anything other than tomorrow. Tomorrow he'll be forced to come back to the person he ran away from twelve years ago. It scares him, not knowing what's going to happen, what Tony's going to say—that is if the man even remembers enough to say anything at all. There is the looming threat that their plan may not work, and Peter feels guilty because he almost hopes that it won't work. But that would crush Morgan, and Peter doesn't want to see that happen.

The door to the bathroom opens, and MJ comes out, already in her pajamas. Her hair is dripping wet from the shower she'd just gotten out of, and she's currently brushing it out with a hairbrush, a towel draped over one arm.

"The hot water's pretty much gone," MJ says, but she doesn't sound apologetic in the slightest. "If you had joined me like I asked, maybe you would have been able to catch some of it."

Peter laughs, straightening his spine. MJ sits next to him on the bed, setting the towel down as she continues to work through her hair.

"Your sister is cute," MJ says softly, segway-ing into the conversation they were bound to have at some point in the night.

"She's not really—" Peter stops himself because he knows very well by now that blood does not determine family. His Aunt May's blood doesn't flow through Peter's veins, yet she's practically his mother in every way possible. Tony Stark, though he is certainly not related to Peter, had been his father figure a long time ago, and might still be if it wasn't for Hydra wanting to rid Peter of everything he held dear. "Yeah, she is, isn't she?"

"Does she remind you of him?"

"In literally every way. She's his carbon copy."

"She's very persistent," MJ observes. Peter chuckles.

"Very. I almost changed my email address."

"How are you feeling about what she's asking you to do?" MJ asks, and Peter's eyebrows raise, not bothering to hide his surprise. He's pretty sure he hasn't said anything about the situation he's found himself in.. MJ notices his surprise and gives a tiny smirk. "I'm very—"

"—observant," Peter finishes for her, shaking his head with a smile because that's MJ's superpower: to be able to pick up on everything that's going on around her. "Yeah, I mean… it's just a lot, you know? I made the decision to leave, and I never thought I'd be backtracking. At least, not at this point in my life."

"Do you regret saying yes?"

Peter thinks on that for a moment, biting his bottom lip.

"No. At least, I don't think so. It's… it's like how anyone would feel when facing their fears," Peter says. "If you're afraid of rollercoasters, you don't exactly regret saying yes to going on one, but you can feel nothing but dread as the line gets shorter and shorter."

"But then, when the roller coaster stops, you feel nothing but relief," MJ points out. She puts a hand on his bicep, leaning in so her head is resting against his shoulder. "Because you did it. You survived the ride."

"Right," Peter nods, her words slowly beginning to sink in. "Question is: will I survive?"

"I think that's a question you have to answer for yourself," MJ lifts her head to look him in the eyes.

Peter sighs, breaking away eye contact. "It's just—MJ, if it does end up working, and he remembers, what am I going to do? What—what is he going to say?"

"He may be upset at first," MJ admits. "But I don't believe that the results will be as negative as you think they'll be. Peter, you're his son in practically every way, and I'm sure he'll still love you the same way he loved you twelve years ago."

Peter can't bring himself to say anything, and the room is enveloped in silence for a few moments.

"Okay, look at it this way," MJ tries a different approach. "Tell me, if you were in Tony's place and Ben was in yours, would you love Ben any less?"

"Of course not," Peter answers with a quick shake of his head. "Nothing could make me love him less. He's my son."

"Then why is it any different with you and Tony?" MJ raises an eyebrow, her sharp green eyes not leaving his face.

"It's not," Peter says quietly. "But it feels like it is."

"You've been waiting in line for that roller coaster for so long," MJ whispers. "But Peter, you have to stop letting people in front of you and get on the damn ride. You'll feel so much better once you do. I promise."

"What if I don't?"

"Well, then you'll have me," MJ answers. "I'll always be here to pull you back onto your feet, just like you did for me when my dad died. We're in this together, Parker. Don't you dare forget that."

"How the hell did I get so lucky to have a girl as amazing as you?" Peter pulls her back so they're both laying down on the bed looking up at the ceiling.

"I really couldn't tell you," MJ laughs.

They lie in that position for a while, MJ eventually falling asleep on his arm. Peter can't help but smile at the sight because damn if he doesn't love this woman so much.

Sure, what's to come is unknown and scary, but at least he has the most badass woman he's ever met in his corner.

The wind howled, whipping through the trees as Spider-man lept straight into a near-abandoned Hydra base.

He supposed he wasn't thinking rationally, but when was he ever these days? Nevertheless, Peter forced himself to not think at all as he tore through the base, unsure what he was looking for but keeping an eye out anyways. There had to be something here, anything that could be helpful in his now months-long quest.

He was halfway through the base when he noticed a man, a Hydra agent, dressed in all black, holding a gun out towards him. Peter slowed down to a halt, a smirk forming on his mouth because finally, something useful.

"You know, buddy, I'd put the gun down if I were you," Spider-man told the man, slowly approaching to where the agent was standing.

"I'm not afraid of you, Spider-boy," the man snarled, readjusting his grip on his gun. "You made a mistake coming down here."

"Did I?" In a flash, Peter shot a web at the wall above the man's head, flipping onto the agent's shoulders, twisting around, grabbing the gun and sending the agent crashing to the ground. He webbed the agent's arms and legs down to the floor, pointing the gun straight at the agent. "You know, I think you're the one who made a mistake coming down here."

"So what, are you gonna kill me?" The agent taunted, a sneer on his face.

"Maybe," Peter shrugged, "only if you don't cooperate."

"You're full of shit, Spidey," the agent spat. "Spider-man's not a killer. You can hardly arrest muggers and drug dealers."

"People can change. But that's enough small talk. Now, onto the real business," Peter crouched down beside the agent's head. "You're going to tell me everything you know about Project X."

"Project X? You mean the memory erasure project?" Peter nodded. The agent just simply laughed. "Look, even if I knew anything, why the hell would I tell you ?"

"The gun pointed at your head could be great motivation," Peter suggested, pressing the gun against the agent's temple. "Now, if you don't want me to blow your brains out all over such a pretty Hydra base, you'll tell me what I need to know."

"Do it," the agent dared. "Pull the trigger. Shoot me. C'mon, Spider-man, prove that you're not all talk."

To Peter's horror, he came close to giving in and firing the gun. But at the last second, his conscience finally caught up with him. The agent was right; Spider-man wasn't a killer. So instead, he angrily slammed the butt of the gun down onto the agent's head, knocking the man unconscious. He fell back onto his ass, putting the gun on safety before setting it onto the ground.

He was so wrapped up in what he had done that he almost didn't see the shadow standing in the corner. He would have gotten up to fight, but his Spidey-sense didn't go off, so he made no move to get up. Besides, he could tell who it was just from the way the person was standing.

"How long have you been standing there?" He asked, and Natasha Romanoff came out from under the shadows, the moonlight seeping in from the windows illuminating her blood red hair.

"Long enough," Natasha said, not willing to elaborate further.

"How did you know where I'd be?"

"You're leaving behind trails these days," Natasha said, and Peter hoped she wouldn't start scolding him about covering up his tracks better. "So it was easy to predict where you'd go next. I've gotta say, you're starting to run out of Hydra bases to rummage through."

Peter didn't say anything, looking down at his hands.

"Peter, the thirst for revenge doesn't look good on you," Natasha told him.

"I'm not—I'm not after revenge," Peter protested.

Natasha raised her eyebrow at that, nudging the unconscious agent with her foot. "I think this guy would beg to differ."

"I wasn't gonna do it," Peter said quietly. "I just wanted answers. I'm not a murderer."

"What did you want answers for? I thought you decided you were going to let Tony forget?"

"I just wanted to find the guy responsible," Peter told her, his voice weak, but he didn't want to tell the assassin that it's the guilt of running that's fueling his refusal to give up the search for anything that had to do with Project X.

"To get revenge?" Natasha sat down onto the ground next to him, grabbing the gun and shoving it into her combat boot.

"No, I—" Peter sighed. "Honestly, I don't know what I'll do when I find him. But I'm not a murderer. You know that, right?"

"I know, Peter," Natasha assured him, her green eyes uncharacteristically soft as she looked at him. "I know you'd do the right thing. But, kid, trust me when I say that this kind of road that you're going down isn't healthy. You need to accept what's happened and move on."

"Did Steve tell you to say that?" Peter asked with a chuckle.

"Kind of, yes," Natasha admitted. "But I can't help but agree with him. Peter, we're all worried about you, and if you don't stop what you're doing soon, you're going to turn into the person that you've been trying so hard not to be."

Peter bit his lip, looking down at the unmoving agent on the ground.

"Peter, I know all of this has been hard on you… but Tony would want you to be happy and, most of all, safe. But if anything, do it for your aunt."

Peter nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the agent. He was frightened to death by the road he was on, so much that he wanted to turn around. Natasha stood up, holding her hand out to help Peter up. Peter took one last look at the agent before taking Natasha's hand, getting to his feet.

Together, they walked out of that base, and Peter never looked back. That was the day Peter officially gave up the hunt.

That was the day Peter Parker went on the run from his past.

But no one can run forever.

Peter is waiting to meet Morgan in front of the same coffee shop that they'd met in yesterday, only this time, instead of being Peter Parker, he's Spider-man. He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, occasionally checking the watch on his wrist as minutes pass by. Eventually, she shows up, sauntering over with her inseparable backpack slung over her shoulder as per usual.

"Would it kill you to be on time for once?" Peter grumbles, kicking off of the wall to stand in front of her.

Morgan just shrugs, not looking guilty in the slightest. "I'm not late, you're just early. Now come on, we only have a short window of time before my dad has to leave for a board meeting."

They get into Peter's car, the old Ford Focus reluctantly sputtering to life.

"Hey, you should get a Spider-man themed car," Morgan suggests, buckling herself into the passenger seat. "You could call it the Spidey Mobile."

"I think that's the worst idea I've literally ever heard," Peter tells her. "And I live with a three-year-old."

"Don't knock it until you try it."

They pull up to Stark Mansion, Peter parking the car a little further away so that it's not easily visible from the front door. They both get out, and Peter can feel his heart rate start to pick up. Morgan glances at him as she comes around the front of the car.

"This is your last chance to back out," Morgan reminds him gently.

"I'm good," Peter assures her, but he's more saying it to himself. He nods his head and starts walking towards the front door. Once they get there, Peter's fingers hover over the doorbell.

He can back out. He can turn around, leave this all behind, and things will all go back to normal. But then he catches a glimpse of Morgan's hopeful, determined face, and rings the doorbell.

He's not going to back out.

Not again.

He raises his chin up high and waits for the door to open, expecting to see Happy or even Pepper, so he's in for a surprise when Tony himself opens the door. For what it's worth, Tony seems equally surprised to see Spider-man standing on his doorstep with his eleven-year-old daughter. Peter opens his mouth to say something, but Morgan beats him to it.

"Dad, I was in the city, walking to the library to do some homework, when I was attacked by some really scary men!" Morgan cries out, and Peter's taken aback by her on parr acting skills. He feels like he should be afraid of her on some level. "But Spider-man saved me and offered to take me home!"

Tony steps forwards and takes Morgan's face in his hands. "Are you alright, Maguna?" He wipes a tear that's falling down her cheek. Wait, tears? Damn. Peter almost takes a step back. Tony draws his daughter in for a hug, Morgan wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"You're alright," Tony murmurs, kissing the top of her head. "You're okay. Okay?"

Morgan pulls away, wiping her eyes and sniffling. She nods in agreement.

"I'm okay."

"Good. Why don't you go upstairs and take a nap? I'll bring you some dinner in bed later, okay? Sound good?"

Morgan nods again and slowly makes her way up the stairs. Before she disappears, she looks back at Peter, who is now the subject of Tony's full attention. She has a grin on her face as she gives him a quick thumbs up. Then, she skips the rest of the way up, leaving Peter alone with Tony in the foyer.

Tony straightens up. "I can't even express how grateful I am. Thanks for saving her—I don't know what I'd do if something happened to her."

"Well, that's my job, Mr. Stark," Peter says with a wave of his hand. Something flashes across Tony's face when Peter calls him "Mr. Stark". He seems to be trying to recall something, but when he can't, he brushes it off.

"Please, call me Tony. Anyways, I have to admit, I am a very huge fan of your work," Tony says. "This is going to make me sound creepy, but I've been keeping an eye on you for quite some time now, and I'm very interested in your abilities and your tech. Say, would you mind if we went down to my lab and looked at a few things? Just because you're here."

"Yeah, no, I'd love that," Peter agrees, and Tony leads him over to an elevator which takes them down to the workshop. Peter's not surprised to see that the workshop is huge—at least three times as big as Peter's personal lab. When they enter, Dum-E greets them with an excited whirl.

"Hey, Dum-E," Peter smiles, finding that he'd missed the old bot.

Tony turns around, perplexed. "How do you know its name?"

Peter bites his lip, unsure of what to say. "Just, lucky guess…" he decides on and instantly regrets it because Tony still seems very skeptical.

"Okay, then… anyway, Spidey, come look at this," Tony walks over to one of his multiple hologram tables and waves his hand up, pulling up a blueprint. Peter moves closer and sees that it's a blueprint for a Spider-man suit.

Man, Morgan really wasn't kidding. Tony Stark really likes Spider-man.

"I have lots of ideas for designs for a potential Iron Spider suit. I know that's not your usual style, but there are so many potential features that could be added in with it," Tony says. Peter doesn't have the heart to tell Tony that years ago, Tony had gifted this same exact suit to Peter, minus a feature here and there.

(That suit is still locked away in Peter's workshop. He hasn't used it since Titan, but sometimes he likes to look at it and remember how it felt to have Iron Man care about him.)

"It looks really cool, Tony," Peter says, giving a small, sad smile that the mechanic can't see because he still has his mask on.

"It's not cool enough, though," Tony says. "That's where you come in. What would you say to partnering up with me? I can supply you tech and back you up with funds, and you can come in and give input on designs.

"I know this is kind of sudden," Tony continues, "But I'll be honest, I'd really like to work with you. As I said, I'm a big fan of what you do. You look out for the little guy and I admire that a lot. So what do you say?"

"Uh, y-yeah, yeah, that sounds great," Peter agrees, and he's surprised that he actually does want to do it. It doesn't feel like he's doing it for Morgan or MJ or even Tony… no, it feels like he's doing it for Peter Parker. Maybe that's a sign that deep down, he does want this to work. That maybe he's hoping to get one of the most important people in his life back.

"Awesome," Tony cheers, raising his fists in triumph. Then, he clasps his hands together and looks at Peter with one eyebrow raised. "Now… is there any chance you'll take off the mask?"

Peter knows that he should take off the mask—if anything will help jog Tony's memory, it'll be revealing Spider-man's identity. But as he realizes this, he feels himself start to tense up and panic, and at the last minute, he decides against it.

"No, sorry," Peter blurts, aware that he's going to regret this decision in the future. Oh well—he can always do it next time. Besides, he tells himself that he can't throw everything at Tony all at once—it has to be taken slowly in order for Tony to safely get all his memories back.

(Is it Tony who needs this to be taken slowly?

Or is it Peter?)

"I just, I have to protect my family, so the fewer people who know my identity the better," Peter explains, his tone apologetic, and it doesn't feel like a lie.

"No worries, Spidey," Tony says, not unkindly. "I completely understand that."

"Thanks," Peter says gratefully.

They fall into more silence as Peter begins to flip through the different holographic blueprints that Tony's drawn up. There are so many design ideas, most of them for the Iron Spider suit, but there's more for potential web shooters and other tools that Peter hadn't even thought of. It's all so cool, and it makes Peter want to be the Peter that Tony knows now. Maybe, instead of regaining past memories, they could just make new ones. No harm, no foul, right? That way, everyone wins.

Aside from that, Peter can't help but notice that Tony's being oddly trusting of him. He's been around Tony Stark long enough to know that the man doesn't let people in easily at all—it takes time and perseverance. He figures he might as well ask about it. "Are you okay with not knowing my identity?"

It takes a minute for Tony to answer the question, but finally, he says, "Yeah, I am. This kind of thing is not my usual move, I gotta be honest, but… I don't know. For some reason, I trust you. Not just because you're Spider-man and you saved my daughter. I don't know how to explain it, but I trust the man under the mask, even if I don't know who you are."

"Well, thanks. For trusting me, I mean," Peter reaches up to scratch his neck because he has a feeling he knows why Tony trusts him so much.

("You know, my dad knows that he's missing something. He doesn't know what it is, but I can tell that he's aware that something important in his life isn't there anymore.

"You can't get rid of a hole in your heart, even if you manage to forget who used to fill it.")

"So! The blueprints," Tony claps his hands, turning his attention back to the blueprints. "Got any inputs?"

He does. He gives his ideas and Tony gives his own ideas, and it's starting to feel like the old days when they used to work in the Compound for hours on end until Pepper had to come downstairs and physically drag them up to the kitchen to eat something. Some of Peter's favorite memories were made in that Compound workshop.

But while this feels the kind of the same, it's different, because there's no parental affection shining in Tony's eyes, no "good work, kid" when he discovers a solution to a design flaw, no prideful expression whenever Peter does something right. Instead, Tony looks at him the same way he'd look at a co-worker—with politeness, but no familiarity.

But that's just the way things are now. He just has to get used to it.

And as the days go on, he finds himself managing to adjust.

Around every three days, Spider-man stops by Stark Mansion to help Tony with the Iron Spider suit. It becomes natural, and Peter has to admit that sometimes he forgets what he's supposed to be doing. He enjoys Tony's company, and Tony seems to enjoy his, and Peter just can't find it in himself to ruin the rhythm that they have going. So the mask continues to stay on.

Three weeks after their initial meeting, Peter is sitting at one of the workshop benches, tinkering with his newest pair of web shooters. The mood is quite relaxed, and Tony sits across the table from him, tapping on his tablet as he works on mandatory stuff for Stark Industries. They've been talking small talk for the last hour, but Peter notices that Tony's gone quiet. He glances up from his web shooters and realizes that Tony is staring straight at him.

"Uh, is everything okay, Tony?" Peter asks with a frown, the name still feeling weird in his mouth. Tony starts, quickly looking back down at his tablet before sighing and setting it down on the table.

"Yeah, I'm peachy, just didn't get much sleep last night," Tony assures Peter, but Peter knows the man well enough to know he's hiding something.

"You sure that's all?"

Tony purses his lips together, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table, resting his chin on the back of his hand. "Okay, this is going to sound super weird. Like, you-might-run-away-screaming weird. In fact, I don't know if I should…"

"Tony," Peter says, making sure his tone is soft, "Trust me, I've seen a lot of "weird" things in my life. You can tell me—I promise I won't run away."

Not again. Not like last time.

"Alright then, if you say so…" Tony rubs his goatee before continuing. "Ever since I met you, I keep having these dreams. You're in them—with your mask off. And the thing is, the dreams are always so vivid like it's a memory, but the only thing I can never remember is what you look like."

Peter feels his heart stop. Was it happening? Was Tony finally beginning to remember? He tries to keep his voice steady as he prompts Tony to continue. "What's happens in the dreams?" Peter's long since put down his web shooters, as his fingers are starting to shake. It crosses his mind that Tony will probably notice this at some point, so he puts his hands in his lap, out of sight.

"They're not all the same. Some are normal, where we're kicking ass together, but some…" Tony stops, rubbing the back of his head. "Let's just say they're not as fun. It's just so strange, seeing as I'm pretty sure none of those things have happened. If they did, surely I would remember them, right?"

Peter swallows thickly. "Yeah. Right, yeah, totally. I'm sure they don't mean anything so I wouldn't worry about it."

"Yeah, I'll try not to. Sorry, I probably shouldn't have told you about it."

"No, no, it's okay," Peter assures the man. "It's not healthy to bottle things up. I know that better than anyone."

Tony's eyebrows furrow. "Are you the kind of guy to keep it all in?"

"No, I try not to. A long time ago, I knew someone who almost tore himself apart because he refused to talk to anyone," Peter says, and he thinks back to the time when he found Tony passed out in his workshop, surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol, a flip phone gripped loosely in his hand. "So yeah. Even though the dreams are probably just… well, dreams , I'm glad you told me."

("I just wanted to be like you…"

"And I wanted you to be better. ")

Peter hopes he's what Tony would have wanted him to be.

Although it was a bumpy ride, with several setbacks along the way, Peter finally graduated high school.

He imagined that somewhere out there, Uncle Ben and his parents were watching, proud expressions on their faces as he walked across that stage. He did it for them, after all—them and Aunt May. He had pushed through even when life got so tough that he didn't think he'd ever move on.

He did it for Tony too. He wasn't self-deprecating enough to believe that his former mentor wouldn't be proud of him. No, Peter liked to believe that if Hydra has never meddled in their lives, Tony Stark would be cheering him on right beside Aunt May.

So when he walked the stage and accepted his diploma (a huge cheer erupted from a single portion of the venue as he did), he thought about those who had loved him and those who still loved him.

There were a lot of people to think about. For an orphan, Peter Parker sure did have a lot of people in his boat.

After the ceremony, he finds those people outside, secluded far away from the large crowds. Aunt May is the first person he sees, and she wrapped him up into her arms, holding him tightly while she cried tears of joy.

"I'm so proud of you," May whispered, pulling away so that she can cup his face in her hand. "My baby boy is all grown up. I just wish Ben and your parents were here to see this."

"I owe it all to you, May," Peter grinned. He'd gotten taller in the past few months to where he slightly towered over her. "Thank you so much for all you've done for me."

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You know that, right?" May dropped her hand to take Peter's own hand, holding it tightly in her grasp.

"I know. You tell me all the time," Peter says, and they both laughed because there was no one on Earth—or off of it for that matter—who doubted May Parker's unconditional love for her nephew.

Peter pulled away from May to turn his attention to everyone else standing around him. The Avengers, very well disguised in sunglasses and hats, were standing there, proud expressions on each of their faces.

"Congrats, Petey!" Clint cheered, looping his arm around Peter's next and putting him in a loose headlock, fondly ruffling Peter's hair. "You passed all your classes and got a piece of paper in return!"

"Yeah, congratulations, Short Stack," Sam came up next and gave Peter a few pats on the back. "Can't wait to see you do this all over again in college."

Peter rolled his eyes, releasing himself from Clint's hold and reaching up to quickly fix his hair. Yet, he's far from annoyed, because all of the faces there was a good distraction from the fact that one of the most important faces in Peter's life wasn't there. "Thanks, guys."

Bruce made his way in front of Peter next, and he held out his hand, a proud smile on his face.

"Congratulations, Peter. We're all very proud of you," he said as Peter shook his hand. "And please, don't let these ding dongs diminish your accomplishments. Clint dropped out of college and literally joined the circus."

"Hey, AP classes may be hard, but have you ever tried tightrope walking forty feet in the air while shooting flaming arrows at a small target?" Clint challenged Bruce. Peter just laughed—his team really was the best.

"Hey, really, thank you for everything, Bruce," Peter said earnestly. Really, Peter owed a lot to the scientist. The man had taken Peter in when he'd just lost a huge part of his life. Peter hoped that one day he could repay Bruce in some way.

Steve and Natasha approached him next, and like Bruce, Steve shook Peter's hand. "Congratulations, son. All your hard work really paid off, and I can't wait what you do from here."

Natasha gave him a soft smile, breaking her usually stoic expression. The last time Peter had seen her was when she'd found him beating the life out of a group of Hydra agents about three months ago. "You should be proud of yourself, Peter. You pulled yourself back together. That takes strength."

"Well, I had the help of an amazing super spy assassin," Peter grinned. Natasha just winked before stepping back.

Wanda came up and gave Peter a hug, a human version of Vision following close behind her. Peter returns the hug, as over the years of knowing Wanda, she'd really started to become something of an older sister to him.

"Congrats, Peter," She whispered. "We love you so much." Vision put a hand on Peter's shoulder, a fond expression on the android's face.

"You have accomplished a great deal in your young life so far," Vision said. "That in itself is an accomplishment, Peter Parker."

"Yes, it sure is, Man of Spiders!" Thor boomed, nudging everyone else out of the way to get his turn with the teenager. Practically everyone shushed him for almost exposing Peter's identity to the entire graduating class of Midtown High. "Sorry. Anyways, it is always a joyous occasion when anyone graduates from the highest of schools! After this, we shall feast!"

"'Feast' meaning a small party at the Compound," Bruce quickly informed Peter. "We assumed you wouldn't want anything too grand."

"Really? There's gonna be a party?" Peter looked around at each teammate and his Aunt May, excitement forming when he saw each of them confirm with nods and smiles. "Oh my gosh, that's—that's amazing! Thank you guys so much! For the party, and for just being here in general. Seriously, it means a whole lot that you came."

"Awe, you couldn't have kept us away, kiddo," Clint chuckled, and all of their teammates nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, the sea of Peter's teammates splits apart, and a familiar strawberry-blonde woman appears, sunglasses and a smile on her face.

"Mrs. Potts?" Peter breathed because he had not expected her to be there.

"Hey, Peter, honey," Pepper greeted him, pulling him in for a hug.

"You came?"

"Of course we came, sweetheart. We wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Wait," Peter frowned, as he caught on to what Pepper had said before. "Who did you mean by "we"?"

As if Peter had summoned it with his question, he heard a familiar voice coming from behind Steve. He glanced over in that direction and caught a glimpse of a fancy Armani suit and a flashy pair of red tinted sunglasses. Peter's eyes snapped back to Pepper, who didn't look guilty in the slightest.

"He's here?" He tried to keep his voice light for the sake of everyone around him, but he was given away when it broke.

"I made him come to see Bruce Banner's intern graduate," Pepper explained, her voice soft. "I know that your relationship isn't the same but… I just felt like he should be here. I hope that's okay with you, hun."

Steve stepped out of the way to reveal Tony Stark, who looked like this is one of the last places he'd like to be. Rhodey was walking next to him, but then made a beeline for Peter when he saw the teenager.

"Great job, Pete," Rhodey praised, clapping Peter on the shoulder. Peter gave him a nod of acknowledgment, but it's getting hard to speak because his former mentor slash father-figure was there, and yet there's none of the parental pride that shines in May's eyes. There's nothing but politeness. Still, Peter figured he shouldn't complain—it was better than Tony not being there at all.

"Congratulations, Mr. Parker," Tony said, holding out his hand for a shake. Peter accepted the shake, hardly able to utter out a "thanks". "Say, Pepper mentioned you got into MIT?"

"Yes, sir, I did," Peter said, and he didn't fail to notice the way Aunt May beamed with pride.

"He sure did, alright, along with a full ride scholarship," May chimed in from where she stood next to Peter.

"Well, that is quite an accomplishment. You know, I used to go there, like, eons ago," Tony told him.

"Yeah, I know, Mr. Stark."

"Stark, everyone and their dog knows where you went to college," Sam said while rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, you haven't exactly kept it a secret," Clint said.

"I'm sorry, what was your degree in again, Barton?" Tony asked flippantly.

"Damn, everyone's dishing out the low blows on Hawkeye today," Clint muttered, but he doesn't say anything else to elongate the conversation.

"That's what I thought. Anyways! If you ever need anything at all, I have pull there, obviously. So let me know if anything ever comes up. Now, let's get back to the Compound and get the party started, shall we?"

Before Peter left, he quickly found Ned, high fiving him when he did.

"I can't believe we're going to college," Ned cried out in joy. Ned had also gotten into MIT.

Right before Peter's about to leave, he noticed Michelle Jones watching them from where she was standing with her parents and grandparents.

"Congratulations, MJ," Peter said, giving her a wave.

"You too, Parker," MJ said in her usual casual tone. Peter was about to walk off when she said, "Keep in touch, okay, losers?"

"Will do, MJ," Peter grinned, but despite what he said, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever see her again as he and Ned walked away. He figured it would be nice to keep in touch with her. She was a really cool girl.

Though he brushes Tony's dreams off at that moment, he later recalls the conversation with Morgan while they're sitting inside their usual crap-tastic coffee shop, Peter in his usual clothes—his Spider-man suit is stuffed inside his backpack.

"Wait, he's been having dreams about you?" Morgan looks like she's about to jump out of her mind with excitement. "Peter, you're almost there! Like, he's literally on the verge of remembering everything!"

"Yeah, I know. Awesome, right?" Peter smiles, but he finds he's having to force himself to keep the happy facade up.

"Yeah, totally!" Morgan is grinning from ear to ear. "So, obviously, the next step is to reveal your identity to him. Will you do it today?"

Peter bites his lip, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm not sure about today…"

"Okay, then how about tomorrow?" Peter can feel the vibrations of Morgan's knee bouncing up and down with anticipation.

Peter hesitates. "I don't think tomorrow's a good idea, either, kid…"

Morgan's smile starts to slowly fade.

"So when? This weekend?"

"It'll happen, eventually…" Peter sighs, unable to give her a straightforward answer.

"Eventually? Does that mean in a week, two weeks… or…?"

"I just don't know, Morgan," Peter snaps, and the moment the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Morgan's face crumples entirely.

"Are you ever going to do it?" Morgan challenges, her expression morphing into one of upset.

"Yes, Morgan, I'm going to do it," Peter says, his voice weary. "Just, not now. Later."

"Later isn't an answer," Morgan's eyes are now narrowed, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "So stop saying that. When are you gonna do it?"

"Morgan, just listen to me, will you? I know it seems like things are going fast, but they're not—there's still a lot of progress to be made," and maybe his words are true, but they feel like a lie when they come out of his mouth.

"So revealing your identity will help speed things along! Don't lie and say that it won't, because we both read the research!"

"Kid, I don't—"

"Why won't you just admit that you're too much of a coward to try and fix the mess that you created?"

"I don't know what you're wanting here!" Peter blurts out. "What outcome are you waiting for? Why is it so important to you that he remembers? This doesn't affect you! This is between Tony and me—no one else."

"It "doesn't affect" me?" Morgan's voice lowers significantly, and she glares at him with such hatred that if looks could kill, Peter would be six feet under by now. "I lied before, you know. I didn't find the custody agreement form the other day. I found it six months ago. And since then, all my mom and Happy can talk about is how perfect you were, and how much different our family would be if my dad still remembered you. How much happier my dad would be if you hadn't left all those years ago.

"Mom kept saying that you're the missing piece of the puzzle and that if you came back, we'd be whole again. So I found you and tried to bring you back," A tear falls down Morgan's cheek, and all Peter can do is sit with his jaw hung open because he never would have imagined this meant so damn much to the kid. "But I guess you just don't want to come back. So I won't force you anymore."

She lifts up her purple backpack and rummages through it for a second before pulling out a familiar black picture frame. It's the photo of him and Tony that they'd found in the box of research. Peter hadn't even realized she'd taken it. She slides it across the table face up so that Peter can see the picture.

"Go back to your normal life or whatever," Morgan says, her voice low and shaky. "I just wanted to put my family back together again, but I guess we'll continue to live without you."

She swings her backpack onto her shoulder and storms out of the coffee shop. Peter leaps to his feet. "Morgan…"

But she's already gone. Peter considers following her, but decides against it. He's been that age before, and he's pretty sure that if he had been in his situation, he would have wanted to be left alone too. He sits back down, setting his head in his hands.

He glances back up at the picture, remembering the happiness he was feeling when that photo was taken. The feeling of being apart of a family that accepted him for who he was. His gaze shifts up towards the door where Morgan had disappeared. He bites his lip, picking up the picture frame and holding it tightly in his hands. He takes a deep breath.

Today's the day he gets on that damn ride.

He has to. For Morgan.

For his little sister.

He stands up, placing the photograph into his backpack before zipping it up and racing out of the shop. He stops into a nearby alleyway, quickly changing into his Spider-man suit. He pulls the mask over his head before jumping into his car and slamming on the gas, driving in the direction of Stark Mansion.

Today's the day he faces his biggest fear.

Because being a coward is one thing Peter hopes his children will never know him as.

He gets to his destination in record time. He can feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, blood roaring in his ears as he doesn't even give himself time to think about what he's doing. This isn't about Peter Parker. This is about the Stark family and helping them become whole again. This is about Morgan, who is the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the world, and yet still feels like she's responsible for safety pinning her family's holes back together again. This is about Tony, who deserves to have the dreams stop, who needs to know the truth.

Peter's tired of living with his lies.

He gets out of the car, grabbing his backpack from the passenger seat before running up the front door and knocking. Happy is the one who answers.

"Uh, hey, Pete. Spidey," Happy says, seemingly still confused with Peter and Tony's current arrangements. "Tony isn't expecting you for another half hour."

"I know, sorry, should I come back?" Maybe there's a part of Peter hoping Happy will send him away, tell him to go home, but Peter ignores that part. He now recognizes that voice as fear, but he doesn't want to be afraid anymore.

"No, I'm sure it'll be fine," Happy decides. "He's up in his workshop, I'm pretty sure."

Peter thanks the man and walks towards the elevator that will take him to the workshop. On his way, he keeps an eye out for Morgan, because he really wants to talk to her, but she's out of sight. He rides the elevator up and steps into the workshop.

"Hey, Spidey!" Tony calls from their usual workstation. He's staring at something that isn't visible to Peter. "You're just in time. I've finished the Iron Spider suit. Wanna take a look?"

Peter moves over to where Tony is and finds that the man is looking at the completed Iron Spider suit, which is standing up in a display case. "Wow, Tony, that looks amazing."

"You want to try it out?"

"Um, well…" Peter hesitates before continuing. His heart is racing, but he has to do this. "I don't really need to, because I already have the Iron Spider suit. It's back at home."

Tony's face twists in confusion. "What?"

"Friday, can you pull up the Iron Spider blueprints from 2018?" Peter asks the AI, and on the holo-screen Friday shows them the blueprints. Tony is frowning, eyebrows furrowed, as he studies the blueprints. "Do you remember these, Tony?"

"No, I don't…" Tony slowly reaches through and flips through them. He reaches up and puts his fingers to his temple. "I mean, it's my work, it has to be, the designs are familiar. How… how did you know about this?"

Peter doesn't say anything, instead opting to sit down onto a stool.

Tony whips around to look at Peter. "Who… who the hell are you?"

"You know who I am, Mr. Stark," Peter says quietly. "You've heard my voice before. Just… think." The man just shakes his head, grabbing the back of his head.

"I have a headache. Shit," Tony says, striding over to the other side of the workshop and reaching into the cabinet. He grabs a bottle of Advil and swallows a couple of tablets. "So you're saying I do know you?"

"That's right, Mr. Stark."

Tony doesn't say anything, just leans against the cabinets, squeezing his eyes shut. Minutes pass, silence enveloping the room, until Tony's eyes fly open again, realization striking his features.

"The dreams—you're the boy from my dreams," Tony's since gone pale, gripping the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles are going white. Peter starts to worry that the man is going to pass out. "I remember your voice. But I can't remember who you are… or how I know you in the first place…"

Peter gets up and goes over to his backpack, fishing out the picture frame. He walks back over to Tony, holding out the picture frame. "Maybe this will help," he says as the man takes the frame into his own hands.

Tony holds the picture in front of him, staring at it with wide, unblinking eyes. For several seconds, he doesn't move, and Peter's just beginning to think he's broken his former mentor when the man drops the picture, the frame clattering onto the floor. He slides to the ground and grabs both sides of his head in pain, his hands white and shaking, and Peter lunges forward, his hands hovering, unsure what to do—if there's anything he can do.

Peter watches as Tony sits there, drumming his fingers against his skull. Time seems to stand still, and the only thing Peter can hear is the blood pulsing in his ears. The lab is silent, but the moment is loud.

Then, Tony slowly raises his head, his eyes moving up to look at Peter, and there's something in the man's eyes that Peter hasn't seen in a long time—not since the day they'd been captured by Hydra. There are familiarity and recognition in them.

"Kid?"

Peter stays quiet, the shock of what's happening keeping him frozen in his spot. He did it. He got on the ride, but he doesn't feel relieved. He just feels… regret. Sadness.

"Pete? Peter?" Tony's palms are now flat on the ground, his whole body shaking as he continues to stare at Peter.

Peter reaches up and pulls the mask off of his face. "Hey, Mr—Mr. Stark."

Time is crawling. Tony reaches up with one of his hands, the tips of his fingers brushing against Peter's cheek.

Tony retracts his hand back to his side. "Peter—what? What happened? Where did you go?"

Peter swallows, biting the bottom of his lip, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, because that's the question he's been dreading for so long.

"Peter?"

"Do you remember Hydra? And Project X?" Peter asks. He can answer the what. He doesn't want to answer the where, or the why.

"Kind of… it's kind of all jumbled up, but I… I remember being in a cage with you. You'd just been shot," Tony recalls. His eyes drop to the floor. "That memory, you being hurt like that—that was one of the dreams I've been having the last few weeks."

"He erased all of your memories of me," Peter explains, toying with his fingers. Tony frowns and nods, understanding. For a moment, Tony's quiet, probably trying to process all this information, and although Peter knows it's wishful thinking, he can't help but hope that's all the man wants to know.

But like always, Peter has no such luck.

"That was—that was twelve years ago. Why did it take so long for you to make me remember?"

"Because I let you forget," Peter finally admits, feeling the adrenaline fade, and he's now left bone tired, all of the guilt and the hurt that's he's been trying to run from catching up to him. He hates the look that Tony gives him when he realizes exactly what Peter means. The shock and confusion mixed with underlying disappointment, because Peter failed to be the son Tony had thought he was.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Tony asks him, and Peter has to look away because he can't bear Tony's expression or the way his voice breaks. "I don't understand, what were you thinking? Twelve years, Peter!"

"I was just a kid," Peter finds himself dumbly trying to defend himself, but he cringes at how weak that argument sounds. "I didn't know what else to do."

Silence befalls the workshop yet again. Tony won't stop staring at him, to the point where Peter is starting to fidget under his hard, shell-shocked gaze. Finally, Peter decides that enough is enough, and shakily rises to his feet.

"I—I should go," Peter announces, taking a few steps back towards the shop doors. "But I'm sorry. For what I've done. Really. I… I am." He turns around and heads for the doors, wringing his mask in his hands.

Tony doesn't say anything, nor does he make a move to stop him. He just stays on the ground, leaning against the cabinets, his eyes not leaving Peter's figure. Not that Peter expects anything different.

So he leaves.

When he reaches the first floor of Stark Mansion, he runs into Morgan, who seems significantly less upset than she had earlier. When she sees him, her eyebrows raise in surprise, obviously not expecting him back here so soon, if even at all. He stops when he's in front of her, looking her straight in the eyes.

"It's done. He remembers," Peter tells her, and Morgan's jaw drops. "But just so you know? I shouldn't have been the missing piece of your puzzle. Your family still makes a pretty neat picture without me. You're just looking at it the wrong way."

With that, he walks out the front door, leaving Morgan frozen in her place.

He's running yet again because running is the only thing Peter Parker knows how to do.

He gets into his car, refusing to let himself cry because that's a luxury that Peter doesn't deserve. He pulls away from Stark Mansion, probably for the last time in his life. He considers going home, but even though he wants to curl up in MJ's arms and fall apart, Anna and Ben are probably still awake, and he doesn't want his children to see him like this. So instead, he directs his course to Aunt May's apartment, because his aunt will always make things better.

He's halfway to Queens when his phone vibrates. He glances over at it, and when he's sitting at a red light he picks it up, reading the text. It's from Bruce.

Bruce Banner: Peter, I need you to come to my lab ASAP, please. There's something important we need to discuss. Let me know if you can make it.

Peter almost wants to ignore it in order to properly mourn losing his third father figure for the second time in a little over a decade. But then, what if Bruce really needs him? The last thing Peter wants to do is push more people out of his life.

So he grips the steering wheel in his hands, turning it sharply to the right in order to turn around. He gets a few honks from behind, but at this point, Peter really can't find it in himself to care. He presses on the gas, speeding through New York City as fast as he can. As soon as he can, he picks up his phone and quickly types out a response to Bruce.

Peter Parker: on my way.

It was probably because Tony Stark, the lord of parties, had given some input (and funding too, probably) for it, but Peter's grad party was the best time he'd ever had. Sure, Bruce had made sure that Tony didn't go overboard, but there were still tons of decorations and food all over the place. Although Peter had to admit, the best part of his party was the fact that he was celebrating his graduation with the Avengers.

The party lasted a long time, but one by one people started leaving. Clint had to fly back to his family, Wanda and Vision went back to their shared house outside of the city, and Natasha, Steve, and Sam had a mission they had to get back to. Still, there were a lot of people there, and Peter wasn't sure how he managed to be able to get away by himself for a little bit—but he did. He was sitting in the side living space, which only had a couch and two tables—it was designed to be somewhere you could go for some peace and quiet.

"How did you manage to sneak off?" Peter sensed Tony before he heard him. He didn't bother turning around to look at his former mentor, instead opting to stare straight ahead out the window.

"Sometimes, the more people there are looking for you, the easier it is to slip away," Peter replied.

"Now those are words to live by," Tony said. There was silence until Peter heard the babbling of a baby, and since there was no way that was Tony, Peter turned around to see who made the noise.

Perched on Tony's hip was, in fact, a baby girl, who couldn't have been over the age of one. She had brown hair and brown eyes and Peter's heart flips because he knows exactly who that little girl it.

"This is my daughter, Morgan," Tony said, looking down at her with so much love in his expression, and Peter remembered what it was like to receive even a fraction of that look. That baby had to be the luckiest baby in the whole goddamn world. "She's a year old, but I feel like she was born yesterday."

"She's adorable," Peter said, a blush creeping up his neck. Tony gave him an amused look.

"Do you like kids?"

"Yeah, my aunt works in the maternity ward, so sometimes I get to go and hold the babies," Peter explained.

"Great. That's awesome news because I really have to pee, and I'd give her back to Happy but he seems more interested in the cold cut sandwiches that Laura Barton sent in," Tony said. He holds Morgan out towards Peter. "Would you mind watching her for a minute?"

Peter agreed, and Morgan was put into his lap. Tony disappeared, leaving the two of them alone together.

Peter couldn't help but feel a strong connection to this child. If things were different, Morgan would easily be Peter's little sister. He bounced her on his knee, making her giggle.

"I gotta tell you a secret, Morgan," Peter said quietly. Morgan raised her head to look at him. "Well, it's not much of a secret—I mean, the only person who doesn't know is your dad." He took a deep breath, unable to pinpoint the reason why he was nervous to talk to a one-year-old. "My name's Peter, and I think you're my little sister. Not by blood, but by paper—although, I think that's the best way to be related, don't you?"

Morgan squealed in response as if she's taking in every word he's saying. Peter felt a smile spread across his face.

"Now, I'm not gonna be around a lot, because your dad forgot about me," Peter swallowed, a mixture of emotions swirling around his heart. "So if I was around a lot I think it'd just get weird. Which sucks, because I'd love to watch you grow up." Peter held out a finger, and Morgan grasped it in her tiny hand. It was crazy, but Peter already felt like he loved her, even though they'd only known each other for less than five minutes.

"But I promise, if you're ever in trouble, or if you ever just need to be put back together, I'll help you. No matter what, because I'm your older brother and I'm pretty sure that's what they do, right?" Morgan yawned, rubbing her eyes and falling against Peter's chest. Peter froze for a second, just listening to her heartbeat. "I'll give you the world, Morgan. Just say the word and I'm there."

After Tony came back and took her out of his arms, Peter couldn't help but feel saddened by the loss of her presence. Tony, Pepper, and Happy took Morgan home, and he didn't ever see her again. That is, not until ten years later when she shows up on his doorstep, soaked to the bone from the rain, begging him to come back and put her and her family back together again.

And even though it's the hardest thing he's ever done, he tries to help her.

Because that's what older brothers do, right?

Bruce Banner lives about five miles out from Avenger's Compound, in a small, modest cabin in the woods. The cabin is built to contain the Hulk just incase an accident is ever to happen, but from the outside, you would never expect that the skeleton of the house is built out of Vibranium. There's a little dirt path that leads from the main road to the cabin, and that's the path that Peter's Ford Focus is following now, although it's struggling because this type of car can barely drive on a normal, much less one made of dirt and rock.

He parks the car out in front of the cabin. His curiosity is strong, but not strong enough to block out all the emotions he's feeling at the moment. He just can't get Tony's shock or Morgan's hurt out of his head.

He doesn't even bother knocking on the door. If whatever Bruce has to talk about is so important, there's no time to waste on social curtsies. He just walks straight in, noting how the living room and kitchen are empty.

"Bruce?" He calls out, closing the door behind him. "I'm here. Where are you?"

"In my lab, Peter," Bruce's voice answers.

Peter follows the voice into Bruce's lab. The lab is more the size of Peter's, and like the rest of the cabin, reflects Bruce Banner's modest personality. The man is sitting at a workstation, fiddling with his glasses that are perched on his nose.

"Hey, Bruce," Peter greets the man as he steps into the lab. They've long since been on a first name basis. "Is everything okay?"

"Take a seat, Peter," Bruce says, his voice soft, and Peter frowns at the heavy atmosphere. For a second, Peter has the sickening feeling that something happened to MJ and the kids, but he waves the thought away because Karen would have alerted him by now.

"Bruce, what's going on?" Despite the lack of word from Karen, Peter's starting to get worried.

Instead of answering the question, Bruce turns head and nods at something behind Peter's shoulder. Peter twists around to see that it's not something, but someone standing in the corner of the lab, and he starts to feel a strong sense of deja vu because Natasha Romanoff is staring straight at him, watching.

"Hey, Nat," Peter says. It's not surprising to see her here—no matter what they say, Bruce and Natasha have some sort of romantic relationship going on, so she's over at his cabin a lot.

"Peter, we have something to talk to you about," Natasha says, moving closer to where Bruce and Peter are sitting at the workstation. Peter notices a flash drive in her left hand. "It has to do with Project X."

Peter freezes at those words, but it doesn't matter because Natasha isn't done speaking.

"We found the guy, Peter. We found him and everything that has to do with his work on Project X," Natasha continues. "Clint and I found it buried deep in Hydra's servers. We weren't even looking for it. It was pure coincidence that we stumbled across it in the first place."

Natasha holds out the flash drive. "Everything we found is on here. Though you should probably know that there is no cure if that's what you were always looking for."

Peter doesn't take the flash drive right away. He just stares at it, unable to look away because that flash drive contains all the answers that he'd ever wanted. It's proof of what Peter had taken away, stolen from him. He's ached for it, yearned for it, but yet now it's right in front of him—close enough for him to touch.

"So what do you want me to do with it?" Peter asks, glancing back and forth between Bruce and Natasha. The two exchange their own glance.

"Peter, I don't think you should take it," Bruce says hesitantly. "You worked so hard to move on. Don't let that hard work go to waste."

Peter's eyes flick over to Natasha. "And what do you think?"

Natasha considers her words before speaking. "I think that you'll never get the closure you need if you don't take it," she says. Bruce sputters in protest, but one hard look from Natasha quiets him back down. "Peter, it's up to you." she gives him a knowing look, holding the flash drive out to him. He hesitates at first, but he eventually takes it from her.

All the answers are now in his hands. He gives her a ghost of a smile, closing his fist around the flash drive.

"I should get home," Peter says, "But thanks, Natasha. Really, this means a lot."

"You're welcome. Just… remember to make the right choice."

"I'll do my best," Peter turns to leave but stops before he reaches the door. "I did it, you know. I made him remember."

"You did?" Bruce's eyebrows rise. "What made you change your mind?"

"A long time ago, I made a promise," Peter tells him. "I just needed the right push to follow through on it."

Ten minutes later, he's driving towards home, the flash drive sitting on the dashboard. It taunts him, begging him to look at the contents inside. He tries to ignore it, but there's use. Peter can't stop glancing at it.

Do the right thing. Make the right choice.

His phone vibrates. An incoming text.

Tony Stark: I'm sorry I was acting so weird. It was just a lot to take in. Can we talk?

Without responding, Peter flips the phone over so he can't see the illuminating glow of the screen.

Everything. That's what Hydra took from Peter Parker. He feels a spark of rage flutter in his chest, and he pulls over onto the side of the road, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and plugging the flash drive in. Dozens of files come up onto the screen, and Peter hungrily reads through each one, his fingers shaking as he scrolls further and farther down.

Project X. A scientific study of the brain, or more specifically, of the hippocampus. The goal was to be able to erase a specific person or event from someone's memories. It was lead by a scientist named Doctor Ronald Campbell, who was secretly working for Hydra. Once Project X was deemed a success after it was tested and proven on an undisclosed subject, Hydra used it for various things, including torture and kidnappings.

Meanwhile, Campbell went free.

He retired to a small cottage in east Pennsylvania, right next to the New York state border. He never paid for his crimes against the many people who had their lives (including Peter's) ruined because of an evil science experiment. Peter stares at the screen, unable to believe that justice hasn't been served.

Peter slams the laptop shut and shoves it into the passenger seat, turning the car back on and speeding in the opposite direction of Queens.

Ronald Campbell is going to pay—Peter's going to make sure of that.

His Ford Focus isn't built for speed, but damn if he doesn't push it as fast as it can go. It's a miracle he doesn't get a speeding ticket while he's racing down highway 78 towards Easton, Pennsylvania because he doesn't think he's driven a car so fast since MJ went into labor with Anna. Speaking of MJ, he's able to come out of the cloud of emotions that he's impulsively acting out on enough to remember to tell Karen to let her know that he's going to be very late tonight. Already he can see the sun setting on the horizon, the road in front of him getting darker after every minute.

While he's driving, he gets a call from Pepper, but he lets it go to voicemail.

" Peter, Tony told me what happened ," her voicemail says, " call me back so we can know you're doing okay. Please. "

Peter doesn't call her back. There's no way he can have an easy adult conversation right now—that can wait until tomorrow.

Five minutes later, Bruce tries to call. It, too, goes to voicemail. " Peter, I called MJ—she said you haven't come home yet. Where are you?

Please don't be where I think you are. "

The drive to Ronald Campbell's house is an hour and forty-five minutes. Peter cuts that time down to an hour. He's just pulling up outside the house when MJ herself calls.

Voicemail.

" Peter, the kids are wondering where you are. You told Ben you'd finish telling him the story that you started yesterday. He keeps bothering me about it.

I heard you did it. I'm proud of you, but if you're not okay, please let me help. We're in this together, Parker.

Call me back, or come home. One of the two. I love you. We all do."

Ronald Campbell's house is in a neighborhood where every residence is spread out by a mile of land. The porch light is on, practically a beacon in the sea of darkness, as the sun has long since set. It also means that someone is home, so Peter gets out, trying to be quiet as to keep the element of surprise.

He makes it to the porch before he realizes he had changed out of his Spider-man suit. Instead of changing back into it, he simply opens the trunk of his car, pulling out a handgun and a knife that he keeps in a locked compartment. He's never had to use either tool before, but it's looking like today might be the day. Still, he grabs one of his web shooters before walking towards the house. Just in case.

He's not walking in as Spider-man. No, this is Peter Parker's fight.

The front door is unlocked, but Peter hardly finds that unnerving. Later, he'll look back and realize that there are zero rational thoughts going through his head as he opens it and walks through the house. The house is dark, the walls bare and empty, making it seem like no one actually lives here, but the glow from the TV in the living room states otherwise. There's hardly any furniture, only a small table in the kitchen and an armchair in the living room that faces the TV.

In that armchair is a man. It's turned away from Peter, so he can only see the silver grey head of hair peeking over the back of the chair. Even though he can't see his face, he immediately knows that this is, in fact, the Hydra man in the white lab coat. Peter grabs his gun, his finger hovering over the trigger as he comes to a stop in the living room doorway.

"Have you come to kill me?" Peter almost drops his weapon at Campbell's words. His voice is shriveled and horse, but it still has the same menacing tone.

"I don't know," Peter answers honestly. He comes around the armchair so that he's facing the old man. Campbell's eyes don't leave the TV, but he's not watching. His pale, wrinkled lips are stretched into a sickening smile. "Should I?"

"I've upset a lot of people in my day. It wouldn't come as a surprise if you do."

"Do you even remember who I am?" Peter watches Campbell through narrow eyes.

The man turns his head to look at Peter. He thinks for a moment before saying, "No. I don't."

Anger flares up in Peter, and he brings the gun up to point the barrel straight at Campbell.

"Wait," Campbell gives Peter a second look before recognition hits him. "You're the kid who was with Stark. The Spider-boy. Yes, I remember you—I'm guessing you were the one he lost his memories of? Though I must say, you didn't seem to be anyone worth remembering in the first place."

"You asshole," Peter hisses. "Do you not regret anything? All of the people whose lives you ruined?"

Campbell laughs. Peter sees red.

"Of course not. That's just the price of science."

Peter lunges himself at Campbell, pulling him out of the armchair and throwing him to the ground. Campbell just continues to laugh, and Peter puts his foot on his chest, pressing down hard so that the man can hardly breathe.

Faintly in the background, he hears the sound of repulsors outside the house, but he doesn't take the time to process what that means.

"Now this is the price of science," Peter snarls, "And you're gonna be the one to pay it."

He holds the gun out, seconds away from pulling the trigger.

"Peter!"

Peter looks up from where he's standing and is taken aback by the sight in front of him.

Iron Man is standing in Ronald Campbell's living room, both iron gauntlets held out in front of him, ready to fire if necessary. The helmet folds back into the suit, exposing Tony Stark's calm but concerned face. Tony takes a cautious step forward as if he's approaching an injured animal.

"Pete, put the gun down," Tony says, his words careful and slow.

"You don't understand, Mr. Stark," Peter cries, glancing from Campbell and back to Tony. "This guy took so much from so many people!"

"I know. And trust me, he will pay for what he's done by rotting in a jail cell for the rest of his life," Tony tries to reason. "But if you kill him, you will live with it for the rest of your life. I don't want that for you. So put the gun down and we'll call the FBI."

"He ruined my life," Peter's voice breaks.

"No, he didn't. Peter, you have a wife and two kids that you love. You have Bruce, Natasha, and even Rhodey," Tony's voice is soft and gentle, and it's able to calm Peter down a little. "You have a little sister who went through hell and back to bring you home... and you have me."

"I lost twelve years with you," Peter says, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, sure, you did," Tony agrees, "but we have a lot of years left together. You've gotta stop living in the past, Pete. You're wasting your future—and it's too bright for me to stand by and watch that happen."

("I know you'd do the right thing. ")

Peter takes his foot off of Campbell's chest, dropping the gun onto the ground before silently walking past Tony out of the house.

He sits on the porch steps, watching the wind rustle the trees. It's so peaceful, so tranquil. Peter's anger has now faded, leaving a dark emptiness in its place.

Tony comes to sit on the step next to him, the Iron Man suit put away, and for a moment they just sit there, taking in the beauty of the nature in front of them.

"I thought you're retired from Iron Man, Mr. Stark," Peter says, glancing over at the man.

"I am, but I needed a quick ride and none of my cars sufficed, believe it or not."

Peter hums in understanding.

"I'm not angry with you, Pete," Tony says suddenly, and Peter knows he's not talking about the incident with Campbell just now.

"I know," Peter nods. "You're disappointed."

"I'm not, Peter," Tony sighs. "I need you to understand that."

When Peter doesn't say anything, Tony continues. "You were a sixteen-year-old kid who had already lost so much already. No one besides yourself blames you for wanting to give up and move on." Tony puts a hand on Peter's shoulder. "You're my kid, and I want you to be happy. That's all I care about, Pete."

Without giving any warning, Tony pulls Peter in for a hug, holding him tightly, and Peter eases into it, returning the hug with all his might. Suddenly, he feels like a kid again, huddling in his parent's arms while a thunderstorm rains down on their roof. Tony's hands touch the back of Peter's head protectively, and Peter buries his head into his father-figure's shoulder, hoping that this will never ever end.

"I'm happy now," Peter whispers, feeling his eyes getting wet.

"Me too, kid," Tony says. "Me too."

They sit there for a while before Tony speaks up again. "You mind giving me a lift home?"

"Yeah, sure. What about Campbell?"

"Friday called the FBI and the cops; they should be here any minute."

Peter nods, standing up and walking over to his Ford Focus. Tony follows him but stops dead in his tracks when he gets a good look at the car.

"Kid, what the hell is this piece of junk?" Tony asks, bewildered.

"It's my car. It gets me places," Peter answers defensively, getting into the front seat.

"No. This will absolutely not do," Tony declares, sitting down in the passenger seat. "When we get back, we're getting you a new car."

Peter rolls his eyes as he pulls onto the highway, but he hasn't felt this happy in a long time.

On the way home, they catch up. Peter tells Tony about his wife ("you know the girl I was friends with in high school? The one who you said scared you? Well, I married her"), and his kids ("Anna's almost two and Ben's four—he actually just had a birthday last week" "A birthday? Well, that's something we'll have to celebrate soon. Maybe a trip to Disney?" "Yeah, he'd love that, Mr. Stark" "Great. I'll have to make a call or two, but I'm pretty sure I can rent it out" "Rent what? A house?" "No, Disney").

Tony tells Peter about the newest things happening at Stark Industries, and in return, Peter tells him about Parker Industries ("Yes, I've heard about your business. I have to tell you, you're starting to give SI some serious competition. Great job, Pete, I'm so proud of you").

The drive flies by, and Peter is slightly disappointed when they pull up to Stark Mansion because he doesn't want the moment to end, but Tony invites him and his family to come to have dinner tomorrow night.

"Night, kid," Tony says as he's starting to get out of the car. "I love you."

After so long, the words feel good.

"Love you too, Mr. Stark," Peter smiles before Tony gets out of the car and heads inside. Before Peter drives away, however, a shape darts out from inside the house and runs up to Peter's car, coming up to the driver's window. Peter rolls the window down to see Morgan's face.

"Peter, I just wanted to say thanks," Morgan says, glancing down at the ground before looking Peter straight in the eyes.

"You were the one who pushed me to make things right," Peter points out.

"Yeah, I know, but you didn't have to come back and you did. Maybe I was the one who pushed you, but you're the one who did it. So again: thank you. So much."

"Yeah, well," Peter gives her a smile that she can't help but mirror. "That's what older brothers are for. Right?"

Morgan beams at that.

"Go get some sleep, Morgan," Peter says gently. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She nods, giving him one last wave before disappearing into the house. Peter drives off, feeling weightless. He goes home to his family, falling into MJ's arms, thinking of nothing but the future.

Tomorrow, when they go to dinner, Tony will take Peter into his lab, and Peter will notice that the black picture frame that holds the photo of Peter and Tony is now placed on a shelf where it's visible from anywhere in the workshop you look.

"It's a great picture," Tony will say, his tone fond.

"It sure is, Mr. Stark," Peter will agree.

And it is.

It took twelve years, but Peter's family is finally put back together.

It's a nice picture.

Well. That's it!

I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Have a great rest of your day :)