It's a Spider Family. {Sequel to 'It's a Spider Thing'.}

{11} so, what was the plan?

THE RAIN HAD POUNDED DOWN on Peter in small, piercingly cold droplets as he speed-walked to the apartment, tapping into his mutation to get him there faster.

Warmth and relief seeped into his bones when he arrived and scuffed his shoes on the door mat while pushing off his hood. He shook off the stray raindrops that had managed to cling to his curls as his hip knocked the door closed behind him. When he turned around to face the apartment, he grimaced at the splatter of rain from his hair on the furniture and even the wall paper.

"Shit." he cursed under his breath, eyes zeroing in on the droplets that had landed on some important looking file that was spread across the coffee table.

His eyes darted around the room before he grabbed the closest thing to him- an old shirt of Clint's- and he darted forward to begin dabbing at the documents. He was cringing at his useless attempt at drying the piece of paper in his hand when he noticed the familiar last name in capital letters.

'PARKER'

Peter's brain short-circuited and his eyes shot up to look around the apartment; anxiety swirled in the pit of his stomach as the cold to his skin suddenly didn't matter anymore. He dropped the t-shirt on the coffee table, no longer caring for it as he slumped into the couch, his legs feeling weak and wobbly even once he was sat down.

His eyes roamed every inch of the papers laid out before him with a sinking heart.

Shield had never interested him much before, even with his entire family working with the organization, so he didn't know why they were so interested him. Peter thought him and Nick Fury had an understanding of sorts, an unlikely friendship; now he felt betrayed that they'd gone behind his back and researched him. That they hadn't told him.

Breathing became a difficult task as the oxygen got caught in his lungs. Peter struggled to shake away the abrupt feeling of anger and frustration that surged in him, rising in his chest.

"Peter?"

That voice. The only voice that had been able to reach him and bring him back from the brink of insanity after everything Hydra had done to him. He recognised that voice as easily as his own; the familiar lilt and tone that always carried waves of comfort. But now? It tore straight through him.

The surprised inflection within the single word- his name- sucked the little air from his lungs.

Peter's body stiffened and he felt as though he was back outside in the pouring rain with the cold that oozed in his chest- he couldn't find it in himself to look up from the papers sitting tauntingly in front of him. "Peter." Came the voice again.

He felt the urge to scream. To lash out. To cry.

Instead, he licked his lips shakily and balled his hands into fists. "Were you going to tell me?"

The question hung in the tense air between them. Natasha stared Peter down whilst guilt and acceptance gnawed away at her insides like starved animals. The sight of him reluctant to look at her almost broke her resolve and for once in her life, Natasha felt unprepared in how to approach the situation with two conflicting paths fighting not in her head, but in her heart. The indecision only made her thoughts spiral as she scrambled for a semblance of control.

"Eventually. We were running background-"

"We?" Peter echoed the word bitterly. His fingers trembled as he forced himself to follow Wanda's breathing techniques from the roof. They barely helped control his raging emotions.

All he could think of was the address his eyes seemed locked on- Queens. It wasn't that far from the apartment, and the realisation made Peter's stomach lurch. How many times had he seen his aunt and not realised? Or driven past her apartment and not known his last living relative was inside? Part of him wanted to race out of the room and find her- finally meet her- but the other part of him wanted to run to his room and hide from the world until it all went away.