Peter sat on a balcony overlooking the city, the cool night air doing little to settle his racing heart. He was clad in his Spider-Man suit, but the familiar feeling of purpose had vanished. He wasn’t angry, or even particularly sad, just… hollow. The air felt thin inside the mask, so he ripped it off, tossing it aside without a thought. Recognition, scrutiny—they didn’t matter. Nothing did. Dark circles bruised the skin under his bloodshot eyes, a testament to sleepless nights. He simply didn’t care. He just wanted his family back.
He thought he’d exhausted his tears, but they came anyway, a fresh wave of grief washing over him. He felt small, lost.
“Pete?” Tony Stark’s voice, laced with concern, cut through the silence. The clink of metal signaled his approach. Peter tried to speak, but only a sob escaped his lips. Tony pulled him into a tight embrace, the familiar scent of cologne and metal comforting, but not enough. Peter wept anew, burying his face in Tony’s shoulder.
“Hey Peter, what’s wrong?” Tony asked gently, holding him close.
“May… she… it’s all my fault,” Peter choked out. “I should have been there. Instead, I was… being stupid. God, I’m so stupid.” The words dissolved into another wave of sobs.
“Hey Pete, everything’s going to be alright. Come inside, it’s getting cold out here.” Peter nodded numbly, leaning heavily on Tony as they walked toward the door, his head resting on Tony’s shoulder.
~
A low hum vibrated through the tower, a sound that had become background noise. It was almost hypnotic.
~
Steve Rogers and Clint Barton walked into the Avengers’ common room, still chuckling over a story about Clint’s daughter, Lila. They stopped mid-sentence when they saw Peter and Tony, a tableau of grief on the sofa: Peter, tears streaming down his face, and Tony, holding him close. Clint’s paternal instincts flared. He moved immediately to Peter’s side.
“Hey petey, what’s going on, buddy?” He crouched in front of the sixteen-year-old, his hand resting on Peter’s arm.
“It’s May… she got shot. Three times. I could have stopped it if I hadn’t been so distracted with Ned!” Peter’s cries intensified, and Clint sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his thin frame.
“Hey petey, it wasn’t your fault, okay? There was nothing you could have done. Don’t go after the guy just because he killed May. You’ll regret it when the anger fades.”
“Trust me, I know,” Natasha Romanoff said, walking over and settling in front of Peter.
“May was an amazing woman, from everything I’ve heard. Don’t beat yourself up over this. It’s not your fault. She wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for her death.” Steve knelt beside Natasha as Peter’s sobs subsided into silent tears.
“If you need to talk to anyone, we’re here. Always. We won’t judge you. We love you, Peter.” Wanda Maximoff said, sitting on Peter’s other side. Soon, the entire team had gathered around Peter, offering comfort.
“Pep and I will be happy to adopt you, Pete,” Tony said quietly. Peter’s eyes widened, hope flickering within the grief.
“Thank you so much, Dad.” Peter said, his voice thick with emotion. Though he’d lost his biological parents, he had found a new family among the Avengers. And perhaps, for now, that was enough.