Archive of Our Own

“Spider-man’s real name i-“ The video that played all over time square cut out, Quintin’s face momentarily disappearing, before coming on again.

“-Spider-man’s name is Peter Parker!” Peter, perked upon a street light, widened his eyes, his suit matching it perfectly, before grabbing his head in his hands.

“What the fuck!” he yelled. He was staring at the billboard, not yet noticing the murmuring crowd beneath him, people whispering to each other and pointing at him. His heart was beating faster than before and he felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest.

“Peter!” His head snapped towards the voice, distracting him from the panic he felt creeping up his spin. MJ. He knew she could see the fear in his eyes, even when he was wearing the mask, it was almost radiating off of him.

“MJ” he choked out, looking at her before noticing the rest of time square focused on him. He suddenly felt all too aware of all the eyes on him. Most showed pity or surprise or disbelief, but some looked at him like he dropkicked a baby, horrified and disgusted. His head started to spin from all the emotions he felt.

“Peter!” yelled MJ at him again, trying to get him to focus back on her. His head snapped towards her. She gave him a pointed look.

“You have to run,” she said solemnly. Peter shook his head, noticing but further ignoring the police sirens coming their way. They had two minutes tops.

“No, NO! I-I can’t! Wha- what about you? Or May? Or Ned?” he said anxiously. He dropped down from the lamp post and immediately started pacing in front of her, gears turning in his head.

“Peter!” she grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping his further pacing. “You have to run. The Police is on their way and the FBI will come for you soon. You have to go.”

He could hear the sirens coming awfully close. He pulled MJ into a hug before holding her face in his hands.

“You have to promise me to keep them safe. Please MJ. I need you, and them, to be safe,” he pleaded. She nodded.

“I need to hear you say it MJ, please.”

“I promise.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see four police cars approaching fast, sirens blaring. He gave her one last hug before jumping into the air and swinging away. His spidey sense tingled, he dodged the three bullets that came his way, before he disappeared out of sight.

He swung through the city at full speed for what felt like an hour, but were only twenty minutes, when he realized he couldn’t just go home. There was a big chance the FBI or the cops were there. But he really needed some of the stuff that was in his room. So, he formulated a plan.

A couple minutes later he softly landed on the roof of a high building a couple blocks away from his apartment. Swinging would be too noticeable so he hopped roofs until he settles on the roof of an apartment building across the street and a couple building to the left of his own. He had a perfect view of the front door of his apartment building. There he waited for ten minutes. He didn’t hear any police sirens or see cops. Weird. He figured it was safe enough to quickly grab everything he needed before going to check on aunt May at the hospital and if he could, say goodbye to her. He jumped from roof to roof eventually leaping onto his own apartment building.

He figured it was safer to enter the building through the door on the roof, than crawling down the side of the building and slipping through the window or walking through the front door. It was a Saturday around 2 pm. Crawling down the side of a building while there were a lot of people out on the street and in daylight would only cause people to notice him and probably call the cops on him. Walking through the front doors when you’re a new wanted fugitive would just be plain stupid.

He entered the building, listening for anyone on the stairways before quickly making his way down to his own apartment on the fourth floor in the seven-story building. He was almost halfway when he heard someone running up the stairs. He ducked behind a corner and waited in baited breath, hoping the person wouldn’t come his way. But of course, his Parker luck had to mess with him again. The footsteps came closer and closer. When the person was just about to round the corner, Peter quickly relocated to the ceiling. Not daring to breathe, he watched the person, whom he recognized as Mr. Lumbardi, with grocery bags in both hands stop right under him. Mr. Lumbardi sat the groceries down on the ground, fishing his keys out of his pockets. He opened the apartment door, picked up the groceries, headed inside and closed the door. Peter let out a deep breath and lowered himself softy onto the ground again before continuing his way to his apartment.

When he finally got into his apartment, after another almost encounter on the fifth floor, he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders becoming a little less tense. He quickly made his way into his room and put on some real clothes over his spider-man suit. He was probably going to need it soon. He then grabbed a big bag from the bottom of his closet and threw a couple of clothes in it. He lifted a small plate in his ceiling and grabbed his old spider-man suit that fell down, just in case the one he was wearing got damaged. He looked through a couple of drawers grabbing a few things he was going to need and put them in his bag. As last he grabbed his laptop, toothbrush and paste, extra web fluid, some money he had stored away and his phone and laptop charger. He quickly stuffed it all in his bag and headed towards the kitchen to grab some food and leave a note for aunt May in case he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye later.

He had just started writing the note when movement in the living room caught his eye. His head snapped up and his mouth dropped open when he saw who it was.

“Hey Spider-Man,” said the woman. She was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, arms crossed in front of her chest, small smirk playing on her lips.

“You-you’re the Black Widow,” he stuttered out, pointing the pen that was still in his hand at her. She nodded, got up from her seat, walked towards him and leaned against the wall.

“H-how? I thought you died?” he asked, still a little astonished. Natasha smiled. He was a cute kid.

“When Cap brought the soul stone back, he exchanged it for my soul. ‘A soul for a soul’ he said.” Peter couldn’t stop staring at her. He always thought she was awesome, and then they kind of met at the airport fight in Germany, but then she betrayed Mr. Stark and he never got to truly meet her, because she disappeared right after. Then the ‘Blip’ happened and she died but also didn’t or she wouldn’t be standing there, leaning against a wall, in his kitchen. He was only slightly freaking out.

“Cool.”

“Really, that’s all you have to say, little spider?” She asked, one eyebrow raised. Peter threw his hands up in the air, ignoring what she called him.

“What else am I supposed to say? I’ve had enough surprises today! First surprise, I question my aunt and Happy, you know him, about their relationship and I get two different answers while I thought they finally got together but no. Second surprise, Quintin Beck, A.K.A Mysterio, made a video and it got played on the news, a fake video at that. Third surprise, I get accused of murder, destruction of government property, and terrorism. Fourth surprise, my secret identity is outed to the entire fucking world. I’m kinda done with surprises!” he screamed. Natasha tensed a little, not expecting the emotion in his voice or the way it was directed at her. Not even a second later Peter realized what he had done and cringed.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that, I’m just pretty fucked up right now,” he apologized, looking down at his feet, feeling a little ashamed. He suddenly felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright ребенок паук, I know how it feels to not be able to hide in the shadows anymore. Remember, I dumped all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s secrets on the internet,” she said softly. He looked up at her, if anyone knew how it felt it would be her. He was about to ask her about that when he realized something. He frowned.

“Wait, why are you here?” he asked. Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter.

“To help you. You’re a wanted fugitive now.”

“Why would you help me?” he asked puzzled. It didn’t make any sense. They never even properly met each other. He was just a low-level vigilante who sometimes fought alongside the avengers and saved the world.

“Tony used to tell us stories about you. He told us all about how brilliant and kind and amazing you were. About how you two met and you tried to use homework as an excuse to not go to Germany. He told us how you saved New York from a villain with wings, how you saved his life even after he tried to kill you, multiple times. He told us you were the bravest, kindest and most amazing soul he has ever met. When I heard your identity got outed, I just had to help,” she explained.

A few tears rolled down Peter’s face, small smile gracing his lips. He missed Mr. Stark a lot. They’d grown so close before the blip happened. Days working together in the lab, nights fighting crime. Mr. Stark became his new father figure, and then he died, saving the world, and him.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “But how did you know where I live?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. Of course, she’s a spy, she knows everything.

“And how did you get it?”

“The front door.” Peter frowned, he thought he’d locked that immediately when he entered the apartment. Natasha noticed the confusion.

“I picked the lock.” She looked at the clock on the wall before turning to Peter again.

“We need to go. It won’t be long before the cops get here. I could only keep them off our back for a while,” she said. Peter looked at the clock, noticing they’d been there for half an hour now. He knew it was weird the cops weren’t there when he arrived.

“How did you do that?” he asked, hastily writing a note to his aunt, saying goodbye.

“I deleted all of your digital records.”

“Nice!” He grabbed his bag and followed her to the door. She turned to him.

“How did you enter the building?”

“The door to the roof. I figured it was the best way in and go unnoticed,” he answered with a small shrug. Natasha smiled.

“Smart kid. We’re going the same way. We can jump a few buildings and then hide among the people on the street. I’ll teach you a few spy tricks.” Peter smiled back at her; happy he wasn’t alone in this. They headed out the door and followed the plan

Just before they stepped out onto the street, Natasha told him to watch and listen for people to notice him and call the police.

“Why? Isn’t it better if no one sees me?” he asked confused. He thought that was the whole point of disappearing.

“Only for a short while. You’re wearing a hoodie with a science pun on it and jeans, your spiderman suit underneath. If you want to hide in plain side you have to create a decoy distinguishing characteristic. Everyone you know, knows how you normally look, the police don’t. We are going to go out, probably get someone to notice you, get the cops called on you, let them get a basic description, and then we make you vanish,” she explained. He nodded in understanding. It was pretty smart.

“What if no one notices me or calls the cops on me?”

“Then we’ll just go somewhere we can hide. I already have the place ready. And I’d count it as a good thing if nobody calls the cops on you. It means people still believe in you.”

“Won’t anyone recognize you?” he frowned. Natasha was in civilian clothes, black pants, blue shirt and a black jacket, her hair was white again. Natasha smiled softly.

“No, everyone thinks I’m dead. The only people that know I’m alive are the Barton family, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and now you. Being death is the perfect decoy,” she said somberly. It wasn’t easy, staying away from the team that was like family to her. A fucked-up family, but still a family.

Peter wondered if he had to die too to get everyone of his back. He didn’t think he could live that way. He still had a lot of things he wanted to do in life, being death was not one of them, even if it was fake.

“C’mon let’s go little spider. I’ll go first, you stay fifteen feet behind me and follow. I have a vehicle parked eight blocks from here” Peter nodded, a few seconds after she left, he stepped out onto the street. It wasn’t very busy, that would work in their disadvantage.

The first couple of minutes walking down the street was peaceful. Nobody noticed, or recognized, him and Natasha made sure he could catch glimpses of her every few seconds. They walked a few blocks before turning left, still nobody recognizing him. He listened closely to his surroundings. He could hear children laughing at the playground in the park five blocks away from them, he could hear cars honking, some woman chatting to her best friend in an apartment to his left, and then sirens. It was still far away so Natasha probably hadn’t heard it yet. He started walking a faster, trying to catch up to her, sirens getting a bit closer.

When she was about to take a left turn, she noticed the panicked look on Peter’s face. She quickly made her way into an alley, gesturing him to follow her before disappearing. Peter followed her into the alley but couldn’t see her. Suddenly someone came behind him. He whirled around, only to let out a deep breath when he saw it was Natasha.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I heard sirens, I panicked a little,” he said, looking at the ground and his shoulders tense. Natasha placed her hand on his shoulder in what she hoped would be a reassuring gesture.

“It’s alright ребенок паук. We’re going to wait here and you’re going to tell me where those sirens are now.” Peter nodded and looked at her, his shoulders dropping a little, but shrinking a bit. She could see he was still a bit embarrassed by panicking but it was quickly replaced by slight fear. She understood it was difficult for him. From what Tony had told her, Peter always wanted to be good and do good. He fought his enemies with as little force as possible and when he did, he did it as fast as possible, clearly feeling no joy in beating people up, even if they were bad.

Natasha had asked Tony once, why Peter became a hero and fought bad guys when he could just live his own life and be a normal teen. He had told her that she needed to ask Peter that herself.

“There are two police cars to the north, three to the south west and three more to the east,” he said. Suddenly the sound of whirling blades and a heavy motor filled his ears. He paled

“They have a helicopter.” Natasha cursed under her breath. She expected the amount of police but didn’t think they would send a helicopter; this was going to be a bit riskier.

“Okay little spider, slight change of plan. You’re going to go out there in a few minutes and let the police see you. As soon as they start chasing you, you run as fast as you can to the Dunkin’ donuts on the corner of 116th street and Metropolitan avenue, and try to lose them. I’ll be waiting there for you with a disguise. I’ll tell you the rest when you get there. Understood?” Peter nodded.

“Alright, give me your bag and remember, wait a couple of minutes before stepping out of this alley. I need time to get there too and you’re much faster than I am. Good luck ребенок паук, you can do it.” She turned around and ran, leaving him standing alone in the alley.

Peter waited, hearing the police cars approach fast. He dove behind a container when three police cars drove past the alley at full speed. He still had to wait a few minutes, give Natasha a head start like she told him to. The cops seemed to go towards his home instead of searching for him on the street. That would probably give him a couple of extra minutes. He heard the helicopter approaching fast. Peter curled up into a small ball when the helicopter flew over him. There he waited, not even daring to breathe, afraid someone would hear him, even if no one was close by. He heard the tires of the police cars screech to a halt at his apartment building four blocks away, the doors slamming open and closed, the footsteps pounding up four sets of stairs before the sounds of shattering wood filled his ears. May was not going to like that.

The five minutes he was there, curled up in a ball behind a garbage container, listening to the cops ransack his apartment, felt like an hour. He felt exposed. His entire life was going to be put under a microscope. He listened as some of the police left the building and got back into their car. Now was the time leave. He could probably make it another block before the police would spot him and he had to run.

He got out from behind the garbage container and carefully left the alley. There were a couple civilians out on the street, but luckily everybody was minding their own business. He put up the hood of his hoodie, head bent down, and stuffed his hands into his kangaroo pocket. He made it almost two blocks before he heard a police car turn onto the street he was walking. He tensed as he heard the car slowly approach. It slowed even more the closer they got to him. Then the siren gave one single *whoop*, signalling the cops wanting him to stop. He stopped, but didn’t turn around as he heard the car door open.

“Sir, take off the hood and turn around,” the commanding tone of the officer send a chill down his spine. He slowly took his hands out of his pocket, putting them up in the air.

“Please, Mr. officer sir, I’m just walking home,” he said nervously.

“Do as I say,” the officer commanded. Peter could hear the other cop in the car speak into their radio. “One possible suspect on Markwood road, please stand by.”

Peter sighed, he slowly took off his hood before turning around, looking the officer right in the eyes. The cop gasped before quickly pulling out his gun.

“Lay down on the ground hands behind your head!” he yelled. The second cop radioed again; “We have Spider-Man, requesting backup and a bird!”

Peter looked at the cop, hands still raised in the air.

“I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill him. He made it look like I did. That was his thing, manipulating people. I would never do that,” said Peter. He watched a flicker of doubt in the cop’s eyes before they hardened again.

“I’m sorry Spider-Man, I have to take you in. Come peacefully and everything will be alright.” Peter shook his head, listening as the whirling of helicopter blades came closer by the second, other police cars not far away.

“I’m sorry officer, we both know that will end up in my death,” he replied, regret lacing his words. Then he took off down the street. He barely dodged the bullets coming his way. There was a park between him and the location Natasha had told him to go to, she was a genius. Parks meant a high number of civilians, the best way to lose a tail.

He ran as fast as he could towards the park, police cars coming his way fast. He was at the intersection next to the entrance of the park when his spidey sense alerted him of an incoming vehicle on his left. He jumped into the air, flipping over a police car that was about to ram him. Then he disappeared into the park. He wove through the crowd of pedestrians, hearing the cops going after him on foot. He quickly made his way through the park, helicopter whirling above him. When he got to the other side it was blocked by two police cars, cops behind them and pointing their weapons his way. He stopped, the people around him quickly moving away from him.

“Spider-Man! Surrender yourself or be taken with force. The choice is yours!” an officer said through a megaphone.

“You know I can’t! The moment you arrest me, I’m dead!” he yelled back. The cops ignored what he said.

“We won’t ask again! Surrender!” a red dot appeared on his chest, luckily pointed just above his heart. They didn’t want to kill him, they wanted to immobilize him. he couldn’t let that happen. He readied himself.

“No.” he saw the surprised look on a couple of cop’s faces, taken aback by the amount of force coming from the sixteen-year-old kid in front of them.

A shot rang out, he rolled out of the way of the incoming bullet. He Jumped and flipped out of the way of the bullets the cops were firing. The small pause in firing after gave him the chance to run over, flip over the cars and running up the side of a building. He was almost there, two more block to go. He ran, cops beneath him, chopper above him. He leaped from building to building. His web shooters were no use with those low buildings so he had to run. He could see the Dunkin’ Donuts a few buildings ahead of him. He was about to jump to another building when he noticed Natasha on a motorcycle in the alley beneath him. He jumped down, momentarily disappearing from the chopper’s view. He landed in front of her. Natasha jumped a but in surprise before pushing a helmet and a leather jacket in his hands.

“Put those on and hop on!” he quickly did what she asked. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she revved the engine.

“Hold on tight!” he could hear her say through their linked coms in their helmets before she sped off. The force almost made him fall off so he used his stickiness to stick to Natasha’s jacket. She sped out of the alley onto the main road. The cops were a little further down the street behind them, slowed down as they heard the helicopter lost him. Peter turned his head around to take a look, which was a mistake. Even through the helmet he could feel his eyes connect with one of the cop’s who got out of the car to go on foot. The cop immediately grabbed his radio, said something, and slipped back into the car. They quickly turned the car around.

“Shit! They spotted us,” he said. He could feel Natasha tense before she sped up. They were going almost 70mph on a 25mph street.

“You know, normally I don’t approve this kind of driving behaviour. Maybe I should just arrest us,” he joked.

“Shut up ребенок паук, I’m trying not to kill anyone,” she said seriously but not in a mean way.

“Sorry, I joke when I’m nervous.”

“I noticed.”

Peter looked behind him again, the cops not far behind. Natasha took a sharp left, then a sharp right. She wove between cars, switching lanes, heading into oncoming traffic. Peter shrieked when she barely avoided being hit by a car on their right.

“How much room do we have?” she asked him. Peter looked behind them, before looking at the helicopter.

“Around thirty yards, the helicopter is locked in on us,” he answered. They were never going to lose them.

“I can work with that,” she murmured. She took a sharp left and then another left before immediately slowing down a bit, turning right into another alleyway. Peter thanked the gods for the motorcycle as the ally was just big enough for them to fit, no way the cop cars could follow them. He could still hear the Helicopter above them

Natasha navigated them through the allies, taking sharp left and right turns. Peter was baffled by how well she knew where to go.

“In one minute, we reach the end of these allies. We have to drive two blocks before we get to a grant separation. When we drive under one of the highways, I want you to web us up, and web the motorcycle to the side,” she told him.

“Why?” he asked confused.

“Because we need to disappear and that’s the best play to do it. Lots of traffic, and the amount of different roads will confuse the cops in the helicopter.” When she said it like that, it sounded logical.

They reached the end of the ally. There were no police cars chasing them anymore but more were coming and the helicopter was still locked in on them. They quickly drove the two blocks, still no cops chasing them. When he saw the great separation, he readied himself, unwrapping his arms from around her waist, activating the web shooters around his wrists.

“I’m ready, say when,” he told her through the coms. They drove a bit further until they were right under one of the highways.

“When,” Natasha said, quickly running around and grabbing a hold of him. He shot a web to the bottom of the highway above them, grabbed the motorcycle, flung it to the side, webbed it up, and lifted himself and Natasha up. He stuck to the bottom of the highway above them, Natasha in his right arm. He looked at her and smirked.

“What now?” he asked. Natasha looked around, analysing their surroundings.

“We go that way. There should be enough cover to protect us from the chopper,” she answered as she pointed towards their right. He nodded and quickly relocated them back on the ground on the side of the highway. They ran until they got to a small patch of woods, they made their way through the trees until they got to a small neighbourhood. Peter was stopped by Natasha before he could step out from under their cover. He watched confused as she grabbed a cap and a flannel jacket from the bag on her shoulders. Immediately he remembered something.

“Wait, where is my bag?” he asked.

“I stashed it, I can have someone get it for you later, after we’ve left New York. Now put this on.” She shoved the cap and flannel in his hands.

“What! I can’t leave New York! My Aunt is here, I have to see her before going anywhere else,” he objected. Natasha gave him a sharp look.

“That’s not going to happen. Your aunt has already been taken by the police for questioning and is probably kept under close watch. You left her a note, that’s good enough. Now we need to get out of New York. You stay here and get changed, I need to make a quick call,” she ordered him. She waited for him to agree before she left.

Peter changed out of the leather jacket, put on the flannel and the cap and waited for Natasha to return. He knew he could probably listen in on her phone call as she was just a couple yards away, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy. After a couple of minutes, she came back.

“Alright, I fixed us a ride. She’s going to pick up your bag first. We need to keep a low profile, two hours tops,” she told him.

“Where are we going to do that? We can’t exactly stay here, it’s too open and someone in a neighbourhood like this would immediately call the cops if they saw someone hiding in the bushes.”

“Look at you, already learning the ways of a spy.” She smirked. “There is a library not to far away from here, we can hide there.”

The next hour and a half they spend time in the library; Natasha teaching him some Russian, Peter asking every few minutes who’s picking them up, Natasha not answering every time he asked, Peter telling her a little about his life and his friends. They got up from their place when Natasha got message saying their lift was there.

Using the library as hideout was perfect. Nobody paid anyone any attention, probably because almost everyone there suffered from social anxiety and was there to hide away from the world. Peter could relate.

They left the library; a black car was parked out front. It looked a lot like a standard issue S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicle. Natasha quickly slipped into the passenger seat and Peter into the backseat. He quickly looked out the window to see if anyone saw them but nobody had.

“Hello again, Peter,” said the woman in the driver seat. She looked at him through the rear-view mirror. Peter’s jaw dropped.

“Agent Hill?”

“How are you holding up?” She asked him kindly, grown soft on the boy when they were in Europe.

“H-How are you here? Why are you here? What are you doing here?” He rambled. Hill and Natasha both let out a laugh at the awestruck boy. Hill started the car and drove off before answering.

“Natasha called as soon as she saw the news. She knew I worked with you in Europe and that I would gladly help you out. I parked the Quinjet fifteen minutes’ drive from here. You both created a PR nightmare; you know that right. That chase was all over the news,” she answered. Peter and Natasha both smiled sheepishly.

“Oops.”

Peter looked out the window, recognizing a few buildings but it wasn’t Queens anymore. It was silent in the car, but he could see Hill and Natasha hold a silent conversation, mostly with their eyebrows. It always baffled him how two people could know each other so well that only one look was needed to say something. It surprised him even more Hill and Natasha knew each other so well they could do that, until he realized.

“Oh, huh, did not see that one coming,” he muttered to himself, but sadly not soft enough.

“What was that?” asked Natasha, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Just you two, I didn’t know you were together,” he shrugged. Maria looked at him through the mirror.

“Why do you think we’re together?” she asked.

“The silent conversation. And the way мама паук relaxed as soon as she got in the car,” he answered nonchalantly, returning to watching the cars drive by.

“Did you teach him how to read body language while you two had to wait?” Hill asked Natasha, who shook her head and dropped her feet on the dash board.

“Nope,” she said popping the p. “I did teach him Russian though.”

“Well, that answers my next question,” Hill mumbled. “And get those feet off there. We’re just borrowing this car.”

She swatted at Natasha’s feet. Natasha let out a soft laugh before doing what she was told.

“So where are we going?” asked Peter.

“The Quinjet.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“I know that, but after that. What’s going to happen to me?”

It was silent for a few moments. Natasha and Hill shared a look, before Natasha answered.

“You’re going to stay with us for a while. We can figure out a way to clear your name and get you back to your aunt and your friends. Is that okay?” Natasha replied.

Peter smiled. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

They drove in silence for another couple of minutes before the car stopped. Peter followed the two badass women out of the car and into the Quinjet that was parked in the middle of a deserted parking lot. Peter dropped into a seat and closed his eyes. The engines started and soon they were up in the air. Peter could finally relax a little. He closed his eyes and soon fell into a deep sleep.

He was awoken by someone shaking him a little. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Natasha in front of him. He rubbed his eyes and sat up a little straighter.

“We’re here,” Natasha said when he looked at her. Peter frowned.

“How long was I asleep?” he asked.

“Almost two hours,” she answered softly. Peter looked around confused.

“Where are we?”

“Canada,” she answered. Peter’s eyes widened.

“Canada?” he asked rhetorically as he grabbed his bag and followed her out of the Quinjet. He hadn’t seen Hill yet, he figured she’d gone ahead.

When they stepped out of the jet Peter gasped. They were standing in an open field, surrounded by trees and beautiful mountains in the distance. A few yards in front of him stood a cozy looking home, the lights already on inside. Natasha smiled at him, enjoying how amazed he looked.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” she clapped him on the shoulder, walking past him towards the house. Peter was frozen in in place by the beauty of his surroundings for a couple more seconds before he grinned and jogged up behind Natasha.

“So, is this yours, Hill’s or both?” he asked when he finally caught up to her.

“It’s ours,” she answered, a small, content smile gracing her lips. He noticed she looked happy, peaceful.

“I have to ask, how long have you two been together?” Peter asked when they walked through the front door.

“Together for fourteen years, married for eight of them,” answered Hill from the open doorway to the living room. Peter gaped at them in surprise.

“That’s long.” Natasha and Hill laughed, before they both nodded.

“I’ll show you your room and let you settle in while Maria makes dinner. You’re going to love her lasagne.” Peter followed Natasha up the stairs, feeling like everything was going to be okay for the first time in a long while.

They spent dinner laughing and getting to know each other better. Later in the evening, after dinner and after they washed the dishes, they relocated to the porch. Peter had never breathed in such fresh air, it was amazing. He couldn’t help but think about his aunt, and Ned and MJ. About what was happening with them back in New York. He had no way of contacting them, Natasha had taken his phone as early on as she could. He was broken from his thoughts by Natasha standing next to him. Hill had disappeared from view.

“What’re you thinking about ребенок паук?” she asked him.

“My friends, aunt May. I’m worried about them.”

“I know how hard it is to be away from loved ones. We’re going to get you back home ребенок паук, I promise,” she said, hand resting on his shoulder in a comforting manner. He looked at her, a few tears in his eyes.

“Thank you.”

“Can I ask you something I’ve been wanting to ask for a while now?”

“Sure,” he answered, curious what it would be.

“Why did you become a superhero?” she asked him. Peter stared at the mountain tops miles away. Just when she thought he wasn’t going to answer her question he spoke.

“My uncle Ben was shot by a robber eight months before Tony recruited me, almost seven years ago now. I knew that man had a gun, I had seen him steal money from the grocery store a few minutes before. Ben wasn’t supposed to be there, he was looking for me. I had jus gotten my powers, but I knew how they worked. I was across the street when it happened. I turned around when I heard the bang. The robber must’ve thought my uncle was trying to stop him, but he just wanted to ask if he had seen me somewhere. I saw uncle Ben hold his stomach before he fell to the ground. When I got to him, he already lost a lot of blood. His last words to me were; ‘With great power, comes great responsibility.’ He died, all because I didn’t stop that man. From that moment on I promised to do everything I could to save people.” He paused; the air felt heavy between them.

“When Mr. Stark came to me, and asked me why I became a superhero, I told him; ‘When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.’ That is why I became Spider-Man.” Natasha nodded softly, understanding how difficult it all must’ve been for him. She didn’t have the happiest life either. At least, not before she came to S.H.I.E.L.D.

“You don’t fight like any other superhero I know,” she said. Peter gave a light chuckle.

“I have super strength; I have to pull my punches if I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t like the fighting, hurting people. Most of them are criminals, but they’re still people; people who’ve just made some bad choices in life, people who don’t have any other choices because the system Is rigged, people who have a family to feed. I admit that there are also those who do it for selfish reasons or because they like it, but they’re also still people. And I promised to keep people safe, not to keep only the good people safe. After all; who decides what’s good and what’s bad.”

“You’re a good kid, Peter,” she said genuinely.

“This is the first time you called me by my name,” he replied smirking. Natasha let out a laugh before giving him a good-hearted punch to the arm.

“Don’t get used to it, ребенок паук,” she said, before they both fell silent again, enjoying the beautiful view. Everything was going to be okay.