Author's Note: Finally! I've had this on my computer for ages, and I've been dying to post it. It was originally a one-shot, but I'll probably be posting a second chapter. I haven't decided whether or not to take it further. I just just make a separate story that follows more along the lines of the Amazing Spider-man. Anyways, I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Peter stumbled as he tried to walk home after his rooftop encounter with Dr. Connors. Or, the big, murderous lizard that happened to also be the genius scientist that was Dr. Connors, he wasn't quite sure if they were the same thing. He had used up his remaining energy fleeing the scene as soon as possible, and was now feeling drained.

Peter felt as if all the energy had left his body, and the injuries he had sustained "gallivanting" around the city were taking their toll. Every step he took sent jolts of pain up his body and he briefly considered stopping by a hospital to get checked out.

He quickly discarded that idea. What are you supposed to say. Oh don't mind the spider-man suit, I just wear it for fun? Oh and the injuries are from.. skateboarding. Definitely not fighting crazy scientists. No way! I'm totally not that vigilante the police are after so you don't have to call them. Just fix me up, and pretend you never saw me.

He could already see how that plan would end up. Him in handcuffs, and presumably bleeding out in a dark cell.

Not to mention what his parents would say. Peter had been doing his best to keep his powers, and new powers a secret. But when your adopted parents consist of Iron Man and Captain America, and you may as well throw in the rest of the Avengers for kicks, that's really hard to do. He'd snuck into and out of the tower whenever he was needed, but keeping up the charade was getting tedious.

Peter wanted nothing more than to tell his parents the truth, he just didn't know how to do it. It was hard enough to watch his dad's go away on a mission, not knowing wether or not they would make it back alive, but imagining his parents having to do that for Peter.. he didn't want to put them through that.

Not to mention how pissed they would be once they found out he had been lying to them.

At first he considered telling Uncle Bruce or Uncle Clint, but he knew they would tattle on him in a heart beat. Not that they don't trust him, they would just do what they thought was best. And that would get him into lots of trouble.

So there he was, dragging himself back to Stark tower, bruised, bloody and disoriented; unable to swing from building to building because that stupid lizard had crushed his web shooters.

Peter was just counting on his dads being at SHIELD headquarters. They would probably be there with Director Fury and the rest of the Avengers team, freaking out over the biological attack on New York City. Freaking out, but not actually doing anything.

After what seemed like hours, Peter finally arrived at the entrance to the tower. He looked up to the top of the tower, taking in the sounds of the city. He could hear the never ending wails of the sirens, the police, the fire department, ambulances, all trying to figure what on Earth had happened that night.

If only they knew.

Peters thoughts were cut short when his body suddenly pitched forward, forcing him to catch himself on the frame of the door. The sudden movement sent white hot shots pain up his arm. Swearing, Peter slipped in through the door, not the grand doors of the front entrance of course, Peter liked to keep his anonymity when it came to his adoptive parents.

He stumbled to the elevator and clumsily pressed the button for the penthouse, located on the top floor of the tower.

Peter sighed and leaned his bruised back against the hard wall of the elevator, the railing uncomfortably pressing against his injuries.

Peter was trying to figure out the best plan to get to his room. He certainly couldn't get one of his dad's robot's to help him- they were the biggest tattle tales on the planet, and any wall he used for support would get smeared with more than it's fair share of blood.

And how would he explain that to his Dads? They would figure out he was spider-man in a heartbeat, and that is not the way he wanted them to find out.

Tony and Steve, along with the rest of the Avengers were gathered around the towering plasma TV in the penthouse of the Stark Industries building, or better known as the Avengers Tower. They were watching the news and trying to figure out information on this spider-man character.

The entire team had been called into SHIELD to deal with a biological attack on New York City, but once it was clear that spider-man had everything under control they all crashed at Tony's place. They were trying to be relatively quiet, as Peter was sleeping in his room.

What am I thinking, he's not sleeping. Thought Tony. He's probably as anxious about this as anyone else. Maybe we should just let him come out here.

"Hey, Barton!" Tony called across the couch to where the master spy was perched. He was on his own chair, slightly farther away from the group, as if he was watching from a distance. "Want to go get Pete from his room? He's probably not sleeping, he may as well come out here with us."

Tony went back to his argument with Natasha on wether or not the spidey kid could actually shoot webbing from his wrists. Natasha growled out in frustration "It's probably some kid of.. mini gun on his wrists. The likely hood that someone could actually do that is astronomical. SHIELD has been tracking all mutant activity for years, we would know if he was one of them."

Tony was about to respond when he was cut off by a very worried looking Clint, who had just burst into the room.

"Tony" he panted, "Are you sure Peter is in his room?" Tony looked up from his rough sketch of the web dispensers he was putting together, with Natasha leaning over his shoulder. "Yeah he said he had lots of homework to do or something- went to his room right after dinner." his eyes narrowed.


Clint looked around the room, looking uncomfortable "Well.. it's just.. he's not.. there."

Suddenly the elevator door opened and Peter looked up in surprise. "C-Clint?"

As the elevator came to a stop on the top floor, Peter braced himself against the frame of the door. It made his wrists burn with pain. Great, lizard dude probably broke my wrists along with the web shooters.

As the doors opened, he was expecting a dark penthouse, empty and silent. Instead he was greeted with a very shocked looking Hawkeye.

Peter's head snapped up, making his vision blurry. "C-Clint?" he managed to get out.

All of the Avengers were looking at him with different degrees of confusion and shock plastered on their faces. Tony stood up from his perch on the couch. "Peter?" he asked, his features turned from that of shock to anger.

"Where the hell have you been? I thought you were sleeping this entire time! What have you been doing?" he opened his mouth to continue the bombardment of questions but was cut off by his husband, sounding much more concerned.

"Are those bruises on your face?" Steve asked. "Pete? Peter?"

Peter had tried to shift his position to relieve his aching wrist, but his body didn't seem up to the challenge. He stumbled forward and would have fallen flat on his face had Clint not been there to catch him.

"Whoa there, kid." he said, putting on hand on Peter's shoulder, and the other on his chest. In doing so, Clint felt something hot and sticky meet his palm. He pulled his hand back from Peter's chest, making sure to keep a firm grip on the teenager's shoulder so that we wouldn't do a face plant on the hard wood flooring of the penthouse.

Clint looked down at his hand to see it stained crimson. "Pete?" he asked, he voice slightly panicked. "I think you're bleeding, why don't you come sit down over here, okay?"

That comment got Steve's attention. He rushed over to Peter's side, taking his other arm and supporting his son on the trek to the couch. "He's bleeding? Peter, where have you been?"

Upon reaching the couch, Peter collapsed, his head falling back and his eyes closing. He could hear his parents yelling at him. Asking him what he had been thinking, what he had been doing, why he was bleeding..

The voices seemed to be getting distorted, fuzzy, farther away. All Peter wanted to do was sleep, and he found himself welcoming the darkness that was threatening to take over his mind. It was so soft, and warm, the worried voices of his parents drifted farther away until


Peter eyes snapped open to see the face of Captain America. Only instead of the calm and determined look you would normally associate with the man, he had a worried and pained look on his face. The voice he had used to call his name was the same tone as when Peter had fallen out of that tree when he was eight years old.

Peter's tongue felt like a dead weight in his mouth but he still managed to get out a weak "Y-yeah pops?"

"Don't close your eyes okay? I want you to stay awake, stay with me." He replied, the concern in his voice growing. He sounded like he was going to say something else when Peter heard him take in a sharp breath.

Bruce had opened up Peter's sweatshirt to reveal the spider-man costume that lay in wait underneath. He cracked open an eye, only the be confronted with the entire team of Avengers staring at him like he had blown up a building.

Well, that's not far from the truth.