Peter met Wade on the way home from school after the Christmas break. Everyone had new bags, shoes, and phones. Peter himself had only a new hoodie from Ned’s parents, the same old jeans, bag, and shoes. He didn’t mind; he was more than happy with what he had.
“What happened to your face?” Wade asked, concern etched on his face as he lifted Peter’s chin to examine the black eye.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Peter lied, pulling away. It was Sean, a constant source of friction since they’d both been placed in the foster home.
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Wade said, looping an arm around Peter’s shoulders.
“Don’t worry about it,” Peter mumbled, leaning closer to Wade and clutching the arm around his shoulder.
Once they were back at the house, a car sat parked outside – unusual for this time of day.
“Finally, put your bags in your room and come back down quick,” Mrs. Quinn said as they walked in, her tone unusually kind.
People must be here.
They raced upstairs, tossing their bags into their rooms. Peter noticed Jack and Sam, the youngest children in the house. They must not want younger kids.
They hurried back down, Peter clutching the book Ned had gifted him for Christmas. They walked into the room to find Tony Stark and Steve Rogers standing there. Peter simply walked past, sat at the table, and resumed reading.
They wouldn’t want him. Why would they? Everyone else was excited, but Peter wasn’t. That indifference, ironically, had caught Tony’s attention.
“Hey kid, what’re you reading?” Tony asked, approaching him after a moment.
“A book,” Peter said, not looking up.
“Well, what book?” Tony asked, picking it up and examining it, then glancing at Steve. “This for school? You’re like fourteen?”
“Fifteen. And no. My friend got it for me for Christmas,” Peter said, finally turning to face them.
“Whoa, what happened, kid?” Tony asked, his concern evident as he looked at the bruising around Peter’s eye.
“Nothing. Can I get my book back?”
“Come on, Tony, he’s obviously hiding something,” Steve said softly, leaning in close enough for Peter to overhear. The whisper stung. He reached for the book in Tony’s hand, took it, and retreated.
“Nice one,” Tony said as he heard a door slam. “Where’s his room?”
Mrs. Quinn directed Wade to show them. They walked into Peter’s room, Wade left Peter with Tony and Steve.
“Hey, I’m sorry you just…” Tony began.
“I don’t care what you said, okay? I don’t deserve a family anyway. The kids downstairs, they do. They’re good people. Just don’t be assholes to whoever you foster. They’ve had enough of that already,” Peter said, trying to find his place in his book.
“You deserve a family as much as anyone else. Why don’t you believe that?” Steve asked, his voice gentle and laced with concern.
“Because I don’t, okay.”
“What’s your name?”
“Peter Parker.”
Steve and Tony exchanged a look before turning back to Peter. “We read all your files. We liked you,” Steve said softly.
“Why?”
“Well, you’re athletic like me and smart like Tony. We wanted a kid who reminded us of ourselves.”
“Peter, we’re going to talk to Mrs. Quinn. We want to foster you, if you’re up for it,” Tony said, and they stood up and left.
Ten minutes later, they returned. “Pack your stuff. We’re fostering you.”
“Wait, you actually want me?” Peter asked, closing his book. “Why?”
“Yeah, we do. You seem like a good kid.”
“Come on. Do you need any help?” Steve asked, watching Peter pick up his duffel bag.
“Nah, I’m good. Not got much,” he said, tucking a few books and his Star Wars blanket into Ned’s old duffel bag.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Peter slung the bag over his shoulder, and Tony took it from him.
Peter said goodbye to everyone. Wade hugged him, promising to meet him tomorrow. Peter smiled.
He tossed his bag into the car and climbed in. The drive to his new home was quiet, less awkward than he’d anticipated. He didn’t try to make conversation, simply watching the scenery blur past the window.
“So, Peter, what do you want for dinner?” Steve asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
“I don’t mind. Whatever.”
“What about pizza? There’s a really nice place not far from here,” Tony said, turning to look at Peter.
“Yeah, sure,” Peter said, turning and managing a small, practiced smile.
“So, kid, are you going to tell us what happened? Did that happen at that house?” Tony asked.
“No, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it,” Peter said, turning back to the window.
After a while, Steve said, “We’re here. Do you guys want to go in? I’ll wait here.”
They got out of the car and went into the pizza place, ordered three pizzas, and returned to the car.
Back home, Peter was shown his room. It was…
Holy shit.
It was bigger than any room he’d ever had before. He put his bags down and went out for dinner. They all sat on the couch and watched a film.
Peter didn’t eat much and tried to excuse himself.
“Where’re you going, Pete?” Tony asked, concerned by how little he’d eaten. The first thing he and Steve had noticed was how thin he was.
“I’m tired. I think I’m going to bed. Is that alright?”
“Yeah, of course. Are you sure that’s all you’re wanting?” Steve asked, equally worried.
“Yeah, not really hungry. Sorry,” Peter said before leaving.
“What’s he sorry for?” Steve asked Tony.
“I don’t know. I still want to talk to him about earlier,” Tony said, glancing at his husband.
Peter walked into his room and closed the door. He slid down the wall and started crying, arms wrapped around his knees, head buried in his arms. He didn’t stop until he heard a knock at the door.
“Peter, can I talk to you?” It was Tony.
“Yeah, one…one minute,” Peter said, standing up and going into the bathroom to splash water on his face to hide the tears. He unlocked the door and sat on the edge of the bed, watching Tony walk in and sit.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Peter lied, forcing a smile.
“Alright uhh…look…when you…when you reached up for your book, your sleeve rolled down a bit…and…I saw your arm,” Tony said, watching Peter’s face. “Hey, it’s alright. Just know that you’re not alone, you can talk to us.”
Peter didn’t say anything, just stared at the ground and played with the sleeves of his hoodie.
“Can you do that, Peter?” Tony asked, “can you talk to one of us instead of doing that again?”
“I’ll try,” Peter said, still not looking up.
“You said earlier that you didn’t deserve a family. What did you mean by that?”
“I’ve been in the system my whole life…in and out of different homes and…juvie…I don…I don’t know. I guess I sort of gave up on the fact that maybe someone would actually want me, like you guys won’t. I’ve never believed in happy endings, not even as a kid.”
“Well, you got one now. We won’t send you back,” Tony said, smiling but worried.
“You know I’m still tired. Do you mind…”
“Yeah, alright. Good night, Peter,” Tony said, leaving and closing the door.
Peter woke up and got dressed instantly in one of the hoodies Ned’s parents had bought him and his usual faded ripped black skinny jeans. He went to the bathroom, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair. Then he went downstairs, where Steve and Tony had a large breakfast set up.
“What’s this?”
“Breakfast,” Tony said, smiling.
“Oh…uhhh I’m late for school. I gotta go,” Peter said quickly, heading for the door.
“We really gotta do something about that,” Steve sighed, handing Tony a coffee.
“About what? Him not eating?”
“Yeah,” Steve said, sitting next to Tony and starting their meal.
Peter met Wade and Ned where they usually met.
“Hey, congrats, dude, what are they like?”
“You told him already?” Peter asked, smiling. “They’re great, really nice. Probably won’t keep me but still…I’m used to it.”
“Who are they?” Ned asked, ignoring the last comment.
“Tony and Steve Stark-Rogers,” Peter said, watching Ned’s reaction.
Wade hugged Peter before kissing him on the cheek and whispering, “because you didn’t yesterday.” Peter smiled, wondering why. They weren’t together anymore.
All day at school, Ned peppered Peter with questions about his new foster parents. Tony texted him saying he would pick Peter up, so Peter waited at school with Wade and Ned until Tony arrived.
After a short while, Peter hugged Wade goodbye. Peter climbed into the car. Tony smiled as they started driving.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Tony said, still smiling.
“Come on, what? Why are you smiling?”
“You and that guy, your boyfriend,” he said, smiling wider.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Peter said, the denial unconvincing.
“Is he not? Oh, alright,” he said, dropping the subject.
Once they got home, Peter went straight to his room and locked the door. He climbed out the window, onto the roof, and started his homework with a leg dangling over the edge.
He was worried about what would happen if one of them tried to enter his room, but he didn’t really care.