If You Need Me

Ch. 4: Stupidity

"Hey (Hey). Everybody (Everybody). All around the world. Every boy and girl. Take a lesson from me. That's - a stupidity. My Mama she says I silly. My Papa says I look like a fool. Baby, I don't mind criticism. They do that every day in school." - Solomon Burke

Peter had planned to head back to your apartment once the evening was over, but Cindy had her weekly check-in with Linda at the Night Clinic and so Peter was tasked with making sure Jessica got back to the Compound safely.

The car ride started out quietly as Peter tried to figure out how to speak to a teenager. He hadn't spent a lot of time around children, and the children he'd spent time around were the genius ones that he'd show tours of Stark Industries and barely asked any questions.

But Jessica was different. Jessica was pure and sweet without much interest in science of anything else technological for that matter. From what Peter had been able to detect so far, she liked stories. She'd loved listening to the stories Peter had overheard Miles telling her at the café for the past few months, and she would sit with wide eyes and a million questions whenever she'd hear anything fascinating.

"Um ..." Peter cleared his throat before gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter and sitting up taller in his seat, "I got you something."

"Me?" Jessica turned to look at him from where she'd been gazing out the window in awe.

"Yeah. I uh, well I noticed you liked -" Peter bit his lip, "Doesn't matter. I figured you might want some subscriptions to some news magazines," he offered, "Learn more about this world and what people are doing out in the world and stuff."

"Really?" Jessica's eyes lit up and she pushed her long, silky black hair from her face, "That sounds fun! What kind of magazines?"

"News ones?" Peter hesitated, "I have a few in mind and we can work through a few others too once we figure out what you like to read. But it seemed like something you'd be interested in."

"That's exciting!" Jessica gasped, "I love that idea!"

"Good," Peter nodded and clenched his jaw, "I had a few sent to the Compound so they'll start showing up. We can then go from there."

"I didn't get you anything," Jessica realized slowly, "I didn't get you anything in return."

"You don't have to," Peter reassured her quickly, "This is a gift. From me to you."

Jessica didn't say anything as they left the city after that, and Peter wasn't entirely sure how to start another conversation. He felt so awkward and disjointed from her, and yet he also felt like there was no one else he connected with more than seeing another teen discover her powers at the same age he had.

"You're different than I thought," Jessica whispered finally, turning to look straight ahead as Peter did his best not to look at her either.

"I'm sorry to disappoint," he whispered back. 

"No!" Jessica sat up quickly and shifted to face him in her seat, "No, sorry. That's not what I - I didn't mean that."

"I look kind of scary," Peter smiled softly, "I can understand your discomfort."

"It's not that," Jessica laughed, "And you're not as scary as you think. I mean, the tattoos are a bit much."

"I'll remember that next time I get a new one," Peter smirked.

"Just that you're so much more than what Cindy described you as," Jessica admitted, "She'd always talk about you and I thought I'd know you when I met you. But you're more than just Spider-Man. I'm surprised by how much you do."

Peter felt his chest grow heavy and he felt like his body was sagging through his seat.

"She always talked about her boyfriend and the things you'd do together. And she'd always go on about the villains you'd take down. I knew that she was exaggerating because she wanted everything to sound cooler than it was, but seeing you in action and then seeing you with your friends, you're cool."

"I'm cool?" Peter smiled, "Wow."

"I know," Jessica groaned, "I'm bad with words."

"It's okay kid. I am too," Peter chuckled, "Maybe it's part of our powers."

Jessica grew quiet again and Peter immediately could tell it was a different kind of quiet than the ease she'd been in before. She shifted a bit, started picking at her fingernails, and then she huffed, "Powers," she mumbled. 

"What's up?"

"I ... Peter," Jessica pushed her head into the back of her seat and sighed, "Can I be honest with you?"

"About your powers?" Peter cleared his throat, "Uh - I mean, well I mean yeah. Of course. About anything. Yeah."

"You're freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out," Peter shrugged too many times to make it normal.

"You're not good with kids."

"I'm aware," Peter grumbled, "I've been told."

"By Y/N?"

"'By Y/N,'" Peter mimicked, like a child. 

Jessica laughed, "Forget it."

"No. Jessica," Peter reached over the console and grasped Jessica's hand softly, "What's going on?"

Jessica squeezed Peter's hand and whispered, "I don't think I'm like you and Cindy."

"No one's like Cindy. And we're all lucky for that," Peter joked.

Jessica smirked and grasped Peter's hand with her other one, holding both tightly, "You two are so good at what you do and you have such specific powers. I think my powers ... I think they're different."

"That's fine. Cindy's powers are a bit different from mine and mine are a bit different from hers."

"But like, different, different," Jessica mumbled, "Sometimes when I'm swinging around with all of you I have this feeling in me and I don't like it. It's like this electric charge that wants to burst from me whenever we work on combat and I just -"

"What kind of charge? Explain it to me as detailed as you can."

Peter had parked outside the front of the Compound now and Jessica was still holding his hand tightly while the two spoke. He cut off the power and turned to face her. 

"Go through every detail you can. Even if it feels stupid or weird, just tell me. Believe me, I've been there. Nothing is too off or strange to talk about, okay?"

"O-OKay," Jessica whispered as her breath rattled a bit, "I feel it in my wrists first and then it travels up my spine. Sometimes when I'm training on my own I'll punch the punching bag and it's like I've shocked it and it just - I don't know. Like electricity."

"Hmm," Peter nodded, "Electric energy ..."

"Is it weird? It seems weird," Jessica bit her lip.

"No. Not at all. In fact, it's exciting," Peter squeezed her hand, "Come on. Let's get out of this car, get some ice cream, and you're staying up way past your bedtime tonight."

Jessica's wide smile came back as she scrambled to get out of the car to follow Peter in.

"Really? Past my bedtime?" she screamed excitedly before jumping up onto Peter's back.

Shocked, Peter barely had a chance to catch her and wrap his arms around her legs as she squeezed tightly and squealed. "I finally get a date with Peter Parker!" she wailed excited, "Finally! My time has come!"

"You're making this weird," Peter chuckled, kicking open the door with his foot, "Stop making it weird."

Steve and Bucky were lounging lazily in the main living area reading through some reports, and Peter nodded to them as Jessica called out to say hello. They both addressed Jessica, and Peter felt a bit displaced while awkwardly carrying her on his back, but Steve roped Peter into the conversation when he finally addressed him.

"How's Y/N?" he asked, "I heard from Linda."

"And I heard from Steve," Bucky muttered, not looking up from the report.

"She's fine," Peter clipped, "Thank you for asking."

"Have you talked to -"

"Not yet," Peter shook his head, "On Y/N's own time."

"Smart," Bucky muttered, "Smart choice."

Peter cut the conversation short then and carried Jessica into the kitchen. He wasn't ready to tackle that issue yet, not when he had an angst-riddled power-charged teen who was unraveling in front of his eyes and he actually could do something to help her. 

"Ice cream!" Jessica screamed when Peter put her down once they got to the kitchen. She placed her hands on the table, a sonic-like energy rattled from her fingertips making all the silverware and plates rattle.

Peter watched as Jessica quickly retracted her hands and crossed them, hiding them up under her armpits. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Don't ever apologize," he shook his head, "Okay?"

"I feel weird keeping it from Miles," Jessica sighed, following Peter as he grabbed the tubs of ice cream and started walking towards the Compound lab, "He was my first friend before he introduced me to all his friends. And he's still my closest friend. He's listened to me talk about everything from my past and I can listen to him talk about his issues all I can but he still knows I'm keeping something from him."

"Yeah, it can be difficult," Peter said softly, putting down the tubs of ice cream and handing her a spoon, "Trust me, I struggled with it for years. And don't tell Bruce we're eating in here for he'll have my head on a platter."

Jessica nodded obediently before saying, "But you ended up revealing your identity," she shoved a huge spoonful of ice cream into her mouth before mumbling, "Why?" with her mouth full.

"Well, I just was having a really difficult time keeping my two lives separate," Peter shrugged.

"Yeah but you'd been Spider-Man for years before you revealed yourself. Why did you choose that moment?" Jessica asked.

"Honestly? Y/N," Peter flushed a bit, "I wanted a life with her - a full life - and I realized I couldn't do that unless I was being honest about who I was to everyone. It wasn't just about whether Y/N knew or not, it was about owning up so I could be fully myself with her and everyone."

"Aw," Jessica cooed and poked Peter in the shoulder, "You're so soft."

"Don't tell anyone," Peter booped her nose with the spoon before pushing the tub of ice cream back to her, "You'll figure out your journey, and you've got time. You're young and I know everything sounds really serious and feels like the world is nestled right in your chest, but you've got quite a lot of support around you, okay?"

"Thanks Peter," Jessica whispered, "You really are a lot different than Cindy explained you."

"How do you mean?"

"You're so much more."

Peter and Jessica spent the rest of the night figuring out her powers and running so many tests their vision started going a little fuzzy and their minds a little loopy. 

And while they were doing that, you were having your own loopy, mind-numbing moment with Felicia. 

"I just don't understand," you whispered, "Where have you been all this time? You left the hospital! You didn't even leave a note."

"I'm sorry you're offended babygirl, but I didn't want to see you cry over me," Felicia smirked. 

You huffed and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes, "I wouldn't have cried."

"You're crying right now," Felicia chuckled, "Now where the hell is Lazlo's tequila? He used to have it all over the place."

"He's been working a lot so we haven't had as much time for fun drinking and shenanigans."

"Did you just say shenanigans?" Felicia pouted, "I missed you."

"Then you shouldn't have left!" you put your foot down, literally stomping with anger, "I'm so mad at you!"

"Why? I'm here now!"

"Felicia!" you yelled, "That's not the point! You haven't been here for me and I've needed you! I needed you so badly and things have been falling apart and I just - I could have really used having someone strong like you around."

Felicia, stunned, nearly dropped the bottle in her hand before she put it down and pushed her hair over her shoulder. "Well ... I didn't know you cared that much."

"How could I not?" you whispered, "You're my friend and you supported me. You protected me through so much and I was so afraid of losing you. I was at the hospital all the time just hoping you'd wake up."

Felicia took a step forward and cleared her throat, slowly reaching out as she awkwardly bit her lip. You didn't hesitate before rushing to her and holding her close, wrapping your arms as tightly as you could around her waist. She smelled the same as you remembered and when you pulled away to wipe your tears, you noticed the healed bullet wounds on her bare torso under her crop top.

Without thinking, you reached out to touch them. Felicia twitched and reacted, catching your wrist in her hand. 

"Don't," she whispered, "Please."

"Where have you been?" you begged, "Why did you leave?"

"Did you honestly think that when Count Nefaria and Kingpin were destroyed, all the work they'd been doing would just stop?" Felicia asked softly, "God, I'm starving. Should we order something?"

"No no," you quickly wiped your tears, "Here. I could use some cooking and baking time."

You quickly readied yourself in the kitchen as Felicia took a seat at one of the kitchen stools, "It's taken a really long time and my mission isn't complete yet, but I've been tracking down all the cells and other followers of both parties. Kingpin's people I think I've mostly taken out, but Nefaria's men were a bit more difficult."

"Really?"

"More like, one woman," Felicia grit her teeth, "I've been following Whitney."

Your blood ran cold and you stopped searching through your fridge to turn and look at her, "Whitney?"

"I'm still tracking her," Felicia slid her glass of water back and forth between her hands, "I learned pretty quickly where Harry Osborn goes, Whitney Frost follows, so I follow as well."

You felt like you could faint as you gripped the edge of the kitchen island, "On second thought, maybe we should order something."

Felicia pulled out a phone and started scrolling, "You don't have anything to worry about. Whitney isn't here yet, but it's only a matter of time. She's been trailing Harry now for months and trying to get him in on whatever scheme she's cooking up, but he's been able to dodge her so far. At least, I think so."

"You think so?"

The squeak of your voice caused Felicia to look up at you as she raised an eyebrow, "You're going to be fine."

"Right. Sure I am," you grumbled, "Just like I was fine the last time."

"If I remember, you running back into danger and getting yourself caught and subsequently nearly killed seemed like more of a 'you did this to yourself' kind of situation."

You rolled your eyes, "I'm not that concerned with that. I'm concerned about Peter."

"That asshole can handle himself," Felicia yawned, "How about Thai? Or maybe some sushi?" 

"You have no idea what's been going on around here," you slumped down on the stool next to her and rubbed your face tiredly. "For starters, Cindy's back. She was in another dimension all this time and now she's back and hotter than ever. I'm also half-Asgardian so that's some new information I'm having to deal with. Peter bought us a townhouse. Like, a real cute ass expensive as hell townhouse super close to Stark Industries. Like, multiple bedrooms and bathrooms. And -"

"Wait," Felicia slammed her hand down on your thigh and the other on your shoulder, "Go back! Go back!"

"To what?" you bubbled with tears as you tried not to cry. The tears were coming anyway so here wasn't really any denying it, but you scoffed and choked on a sob.

"I needed you," you choked out, "No one else is ever going to understand."

"How did Peter take it? The ... Asgardian thing?"

"Fine," you shrugged tiredly, "Fine! He didn't even flinch. He just took it in stride and he just - he was going to call Loki? And then we went to work. And then dinner ... and now I'm here," you sobbed, "I keep coming here and falling apart."

"What? Wait, you said Cindy's here?"

"Yeah," you croaked, "Another dimension. She's back."

"Honey," Felicia whispered, "Oh sweetie."

"Don't patronize me," you demanded through your tears, "Don't -"

"Y/N, no," Felicia whispered, "It's okay. I'm here now."

"Harry's here," you whispered, "In my building. Peter was supposed to have some security system around my apartment and yet Harry was here."

"He's not going to touch you," Felicia stated strongly, jaw clenched and eyes burning, "I won't let him anywhere near you. He'll barely look at you or I'll punch his face into the ground, tear out his heart, and break all his limbs. And as much as I hate to say it, that kid is smart. He understands Peter's mind. I watched Harry dismantle Peter's security system in seconds. I'll set it back up, only better this time."

"I missed you so much," you cried.

Felicia hesitated for a moment and you could see she was torn between actually showing her emotions and keeping up with her usual charade. But finally she pulled you into a hug and whispered, "I missed you too."

After a lot of creamy pasta and a whole batch of easy-make cookies, you and Felicia ended up in bed while still catching up. You downloaded everything you had as you let it all out and Felicia listened. 

Around midnight, Thandie came home in a hurry, storming into your room. "I got your text," she held up her phone, "Emergency? What kind of emergency?"

The door flew open and Lazlo stumbled in as well, "Where's the 911?!" he asked, "I got your text!"

"I didn't -" you furrowed your brow, "I didn't text."

"Felicia?" Thandie put down her things, "What are you -?"

"I left my shift," Lazlo groaned, "What's this about?"

You turned to Felicia, "Did you text them?" 

She shrugged and crossed her arms, pulling your phone from her bra and handing it back to you. 

"I'm fine with the friendship thing with you, but I'm not the greatest friend. And I also know two people who could really make you feel better."

"What's going on?" Thandie reached out to you, "Have you been crying?"

You gripped Thandie and Lazlo's arms as you felt yourself shaking like a leaf, "It's about my dad," you whispered, "A-And ... me."

"Hon, what happened?" Lazlo asked, noticing your shaking body and picking you up to sit you down on the sofa. Thandie sat next to you as the three of you cuddle up the way you had so many other times. You watched as Felicia slid down onto the seat across from all of you and Webs jumped up onto Thandie's lap. 

"We're here for you," Thandie said softly, "Whatever you need."

You never would have texted Thandie or Lazlo to come home just so you could cry into their laps. But yet it was exactly what you had needed. You knew you needed it, you'd selfishly felt it in your soul as you'd made your way home. Part of you felt like a coward that you'd needed someone else to tell your friends you'd needed them, but you weren't going to think about it in that moment as the words stumbled through your words. 

You weren't entirely sure what you'd expected, but the reaction from your friends was everything you'd needed. They asked hardly any questions, decided to bake a Victoria sponge cake, and all fiercely told you through a few bottles of wine how rad you were, how much they loved you, and exactly how much you meant to them.

Felicia stuck around (mostly because you figured she didn't have anywhere else to sleep) and by the end of a very long, drunk night, she fell into bed with you. 

"And the other thing," she mumbled tired, "Cindy's a fucking bitch. And she has a crazy psycho side. You're way better than her. And also better for Peter."

"It's not about who's better for Peter," you mumbled back, "It's about who's best for themselves."

"You're so smart," Felicia mumbled, patting your cheek drunkenly, "I missed you so much. I kept checking up on you."

"You did?"

"Of course," Felicia yawned, "You're my best friend."

In the morning you were up before everyone else, as usual. Sliding out of bed, out of Felicia's loose grasp, you made your way into the kitchen to start the coffee everyone would need. The silence was refreshing after spending so many hours last night talking. You couldn't remember the last time you'd spoken that much, especially about yourself. 

As the coffee brewed, you slowly started your downward spiral into Googling everything you could about the Asgardians. You started with everything you could on the history of Asgard - the myths and the legends. Thor, son of Odin, and his trickster brother Loki. Old gods, and older kings, and villains and horrible monsters. 

And then there was the introduction of Thor into your world when he first appeared on your earth. There were multiple accounts of the situation, leading up to Loki's attack on New York. You slumped over the counter a bit as you scrolled, coming upon an article following Thor's death.

"Following the attack on the Avengers' Compound, Thor, God of Thunder, who we have all come to know and love, sacrificed himself against the alien tyrant Thanos. There are no details of the battle at this time, nor do we think there ever will be, but we do know this - Thor will be missed. 

He has left behind a lost people, now situated in Tønsberg, or as the citizens are now calling it, New Asgard. Thor is survived by his brother Loki, the reformed god who we know from our attack on New York in 2012. The Asgardians are now ruled by Loki and the newly appointed queen Brunnhilde, also know as the knight Valkyrie. 

What does this mean for the Asgardian population? They've lost their true king, and though we will always be here to support the Asgardians in their time of need just as their Asgardian king as supported and protected us all these years, we can only wonder ... will there ever be another Asgardian protector to step up when we need them?"

"I'm surprised you're not feeling as undead as I am," Thandie muttered, leaning against the doorway as she rubbed her temple. "I honestly feel like I could fall into my grave and I'd be fine."

"You look it," you smirked, starting to pour some coffee for her.

"What do we have here?" Thandie asked softly, looking down at your phone, "Ah, some good old self-sabotage, huh?"

"Not sure yet," you whispered, dumping sugar into her coffee the way you knew she liked it. 

"Y/N ... you're not going to go out there and become an Avenger, are you?"

"If I'm Asgardian wouldn't I have powers?" you asked softly, "Thor sacrificed himself for our entire planet to save us from Thanos. The worst I could do is do nothing."

"You already do so much every day," Thandie groaned, "You're constantly helping others, and sure it wasn't in the way Thor did, but you're still making a huge impact."

"I don't know yet," you whispered, "I guess I'll find out."

"Is that coffee?" Lazlo grumbled, "I think I have multiple head contusions."

"Just your normal hangover, baby," Thandie passed Lazlo a mug of coffee which he gratefully started chugging while reaching out for you and beckoning you forward.

"Come here, little lady," he said, pulling you into his chest with one arm and patting your head, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you wrapped your arms around Lazlo tightly, "Thank you."

"So do you want to go get brunch or something?" Thandie asked, slipping under Lazlo's other arm as the three of you held one another, "We can go to the donut place down the street with the really good frozen lattes?"

"I would love to, but Peter's hosting a breakfast for Ned's birthday and I think he's going to need some help cooking," you chuckled.

"Ned's birthday!" Thandie gasped, "The party tonight!"

"Leave all the planning you promised to do to us," Lazlo squeezed you, "And go have fun with everyone today, okay? You deserve it."

"I already ordered the cake from -"

"We know. We'll get over to Milk Bar. And the cookies from Levain."

"He likes the dark chocolate chip ones," you reminded them while finishing your coffee, "And maybe some pints from Van Leeuwen?"

"I think we can manage," Lazlo chuckled.

"Manage what?" Felicia asked, walking into the room having apparently showered. She shook her long wet hair and smoothed it down while you prepped coffee for her.

"Ned's birthday," you reminded her, "We're headed to breakfast now."

"You really think that's such a good idea?" Felicia raised an eyebrow, "Peter's going to be pissed to see me. I don't want to ruin that sweet baby boy Ned's birthday."

"He'll be excited to see you!" you told her, "He's missed you!"

Felicia rolled her eyes while taking the coffee from you, "Whatever you say, hon."

"Just let me get ready and we can be on our way," you told her, excitement building up in you thinking of how excited Peter was going to be to have Felicia back.

You quickly showered and dried your hair, barely spent a second on makeup (aka, you poked your eye too many times with your mascara wand and then gave up), before dressing quickly and rushing back out to see that Lazlo and Felicia were play wrestling and Thandie was trying to feed Webs his breakfast.

"We shouldn't be long," you said, grabbing Felicia by her leather jacket and lugging her behind you to the door, "Thanks for taking care of the party stuff!"

"We'll meet you at MJ's for the party!" Thandie waved after you before you shut the door. 

It was cold out and you shuddered as you made your way to the train. Felicia followed dutifully, but you could tell that she was on edge about seeing Peter again.

"You have to relax," you told her, "Coming in guns blazing first thing is going to set him off."

Felicia scoffed, "He's going to be set off regardless. But what's the worst he can do? Send me to Ravencroft?"

"What's Ravencroft?" you asked.

"It's upstate. This big maximum security prison for enhanced people, basically. Government run," Felicia shrugged, "So I guess Peter wouldn't even have the authority to send me there anyway."

"I see," you muttered. 

Even though you'd been within this world of Peter's for over a year now, you were still sometimes surprised by how little you knew. You knew more than most but still ... you'd had no idea first about Alchemax and now this apparent prison Ravencroft. 

Your brain hurt. 

"Hold on a second," you grumbled as you searched your bag for your key, "It's fucking here somewhere. I swear my bag gets deeper and deeper."

"You have a key to Peter's apartment? Cute," Felicia smirked.

"Well we're moving in together after graduation so if we didn't have keys to each other's places I would be concerned."

You finally found it and shakily jiggled the key in the lock before you got the door open. You immediately were hit with the scent of sweet pancakes and the sound of laughter.

"That's not how I remember it at all!" you heard Cindy laughing, "I thought I was the one who stole Flash's phone?"

"I grabbed it and you took off running," Peter laughed, "Which is why I was the one who got in trouble."

"Good morning," you cooed, keeping your arm back to keep Felicia out of view, "Happy Birthday, Ned!"

"Y/N!" Ned cried, "You're here!"

"I know it's your birthday Ned and I promise I have lots of goodies coming your way, but first I have a surprise for Peter."

"The kind of surprise we should all close our eyes for?" Cindy asked, smirking as she leaned back on the sofa. 

Peter smiled a bit uncomfortably, "Is everything okay?" he asked from behind the kitchen island, flipping another pancake. "Did you have a good night?"

"I had a surprise."

Your eye twitched a bit and Peter could see that you were a bit on edge. You were radiating uncertainty, and he was about to quit cooking before you pulled Felicia out from behind the door.

"Surprise!" you cried as Ned dropped his cup, Cindy sat up on edge, and you tried to read Peter's face.

He didn't react right away. You'd expected him to gasp, or cry out, or at least move. But instead, he just stood there. 

Felicia sighed deeply, "New haircut," she nodded, "Is that a choice?"

Then Peter reacted.

Everything moved at once. Peter jumped over the counter and grasped Felicia around the neck, tackling her to the ground. Cindy shot up but you quickly held her back, shaking your head lightly as if to say 'let them work this out.' 

Felicia groaned and wrapped her hands around Peter's wrist, smiling up at him, "Now, this is a surprise."

"Where were you?" Peter growled, shaking as he held her down, "You left me."

You gripped at Cindy's arm when she started to step forward again as Felicia struggled a bit under Peter's grasp. Though you knew Cindy could absolutely overpower you, she refrained and you watched as Felicia maneuvered her legs so she swept out from under Peter and now had him pinned.

Peter quickly kicked her off into the wall and picked her up by the shoulder, pushing her into the wall before wrapping his hand back around her neck and glaring at her. 

"You left," he hissed.

Felicia struggled against him, grasping his shoulder and digging her fingernails into his skin, but he didn't even flinch. "I didn't leave you," she croaked.

"You did!" Peter hissed, "You left me! No note! And no way of tracking you."

"Because I knew you'd come with me!" Felicia cried, "And I didn't want you to."

Peter blinked and seemed to come out of a trance as he stepped back and let Felicia go. She hacked and coughed, falling to the ground on her knees as Peter stood over her. 

Peter feebly shook his head, "Why?" he whispered.

"You know why," Felicia grumbled, rubbing her throat. "You were dying and broken when I went in my coma. And you needed help. And as much as I at one point wanted to run off with you to live a vigilante lifestyle robbing from the rich and famous, I knew that wasn't your only option anymore."

"Wait what?" Cindy whispered, but you closed your eyes and shook your head again.

"And you had better options - your only option - here in the city," Felicia stood up now, clearing her throat again, "And now look at you. You have a girlfriend and a house, and you're clean and happy. You're welcome."

"Fuck you," Peter whispered, "You left me no way of tracking you. You always said -"

"I know what I said," Felicia glared, "But things have changed."

Her eyes moved to you for a second and Peter flinched, realizing what she was saying. 

"Don't pull that shit again," he whispered, "Are we clear?"

"Peachy," Felicia winked and reached out to punch Peter in the shoulder but he moved back, shaking his head. 

"You went to her first because you knew I'd be pissed. That's low using my girlfriend as a shield."

"Excuse me," Felicia gasped, "She's my best friend. I can also understand why you sleep in her bed so often. That shit's comfortable."

Peter's nostrils flared and Felicia winked at him again, "Calm down, Spidey. All we did was get drunk and then sleep."

"I cried a bit," you offered, "Lazlo sang ABBA. And I also think that at some point Thandie asked Jason to marry her on the phone, but that's ... besides the point."

You cleared your throat and stepped forward to take care of the remaining pancakes. Peter's eyes followed you and he could still feel like you were walking on eggshells, barely keeping it together. 

Felicia slid down onto the sofa next to Cindy and you heard Felicia say, "It's nice to see you amongst the land of the living." 

Cindy chuckled and pulled her hair into a ponytail, "Last time I saw you was at the MET escaping from a very angry Peter. Come to find out you're now working with him?"

"It's a long story," Felicia rolled her eyes. 

You felt Peter's arms slowly wrap around your waist from behind as he burrowed his face into your neck. A knock on the door signaled MJ and Harley's arrival, but Peter barely flinched as he kissed your neck and held you tighter.

"How are you?" he whispered, "You cried last night?"

"My whole life has been a lie," you mumbled, flipping another pancake, "My father wasn't who he said he was, keeping everything from me. And now I have to deal with it."

"We can deal with it," Peter reminded you, nodding his head to MJ and Harley as they entered before letting go of you and turning away from everyone to face you, "You're not alone."

"I know," you nodded, "I don't want to burden you with this."

"You're not a burden," Peter told you fiercely, "And considering all I've burdened you with, I can only imagine it's now time I finally repay you for all the kindness you've given me."

You smirked, "You were never a burden."

"I'd bet I still am," Peter smirked, "Now c'mere."

He grasped your head in his hands and pressed his lips to your forehead, pulling you in for a hug afterwards. His hands spread up and down your back as you curled into his grasp and sighed, feeling your adrenaline soaring through your veins and also feeling comforted at the same time. 

"Let's spend the night at ours tonight, yeah?" Peter offered, "Just you, me, and that one mattress we can't seem to find the perfect bed frame for."

You laughed lightly, "We'll see. It's Ned's birthday, and I want to make sure we're celebrating him, okay?"

Peter rolled his eyes, "Fine."

"You know!" Felicia pipped up, bringing you and Peter back to reality, "Now that Cindy's back in town and I'm back, we should have a girls' night!"

MJ nearly spit out her coffee as she laughed. You could tell that her initial shock at seeing Felicia in Peter's apartment still hadn't warn off as she sputtered, "You're kidding right?"

"We can go out clubbing," Felicia's eyes sparkled, "God knows Y/N could use some escapism for the night, and it's been a while since I could let loose. And I'm sure little miss captive hasn't been able to get out in anything skimpy since she was vacuumed out of this earth."

"Unbelievable," Cindy smirked.

This was one of the things you loved the most about Felicia. Even when saying the most ridiculous things that could potentially offend everyone, she still was able to spin it so that everyone enjoyed it or was at least amused. You shook your head but you couldn't stop from the small smile creeping onto your face. 

"I just think it would be nice to have some normalcy," Felicia groaned, "I've been tracking all over Europe and haven't had any fun in ages. Besides, this one is way too hot to be kept up indoors."

She pointed at Cindy and Cindy rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee.

"I'm sure it can be arranged," MJ offered, "The Valley would be fun."

"I fucking hate that place," Felicia rolled her eyes, "We live in the city that never sleeps. There's more than one club. Besides, if we want to get into a good one, I can sneak us in. Maybe even steal some VIP passes? That could be fun."

"Always thinking outside the box," Peter shook his head. 

"Think on it," Felicia shrugged, "Could be fun."

The rest of breakfast went along nicely. You found comfort in cooking for so many people, and Thandie and Lazlo pulled through texting you that they'd gotten everything fully set for the party that night.

"Well I should get going," you sighed, stretching up after a little while, "We all can't celebrate Ned all day. Some of us have to work."

Ned booed as you leaned over and gave him a hug. You then headed into Peter's room where you searched through his closet and drawers in hopes of finding one of the many work blouses you'd left throughout the year.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Peter asked, following you into his room, "I can tell something's off."

"We can talk later," you promised him, thinking of the Harry Osborn situation of it all. You knew it would be difficult for Peter to hear, and though you wanted to tell him everything immediately, you knew you had to wait for the right time.

"That sounds ominous," Peter commented, reaching over you for a work shirt of his own after pulling off his t-shirt. 

You turned and caught sight of the Thor tattoo Peter had gotten a few months ago. It was staring at you now, taunting you. It was spread across Peter's back shoulder - the Nordic ruins so clearly and crisply embellished - and part of your brain thought 'I should know what that means' while the other part of your brain completely shut down, thinking that your father probably could know exactly what it meant. 

Shakily, you reached out and touched it, causing Peter to flinch against your ice cold fingers. He turned around and looked down at you, noticing your slight distant gaze and furrowed eyebrows. 

"Hey," he whispered, grasping your hand in his and kissing your fingertips, "Are you okay?"

"You knew Thor," you whispered, "You said that he was nice?"

"He was extremely nice," Peter nodded, "He made the Compound feel homely when Cindy and I first got there."

"How did he die?"

Peter visibly stiffened and his eyes zoned out a bit. You grasped his hand in yours, holding it firmly as you whispered his name again. 

Peter's brain felt foggy thinking back to the attack on the Compound. Even though it had been years, there were still nights where Peter would wake up and realize he'd been right back there mentally. 

"I really don't want to talk about it," he whispered, looking down as if ashamed.

"Please," you begged, being selfish for what felt like the first time in a long time, "I know it'll be difficult but I need to hear it."

"Thanos killed him," Peter stated, "What more do you need to know?"

"I hardly know anything about the Thanos attack. All I know is that the Attack on New York happened years ago, and his army was defeated, and so he regrouped and came back himself to kill all of the Avengers. 

"Y/N ..." Peter shook his head and took a step backwards, "I can't ..."

"I know that he blew up part of the Compound and that some of you were pinned under the rubble, and so only some were able to fight off Thanos's army until the rest were rescued. And that's how Vision died when Thanos stole the stone from his forehead -"

"Y/N," Peter cut you off. 

You cleared your throat and stared him down, crossing your arms with a bit of a glare, "I need to know, Peter."

"Why? Because you're half-Asgardian?" he asked softly, "No matter where your family is from, it doesn't change who you are today, or what you feel you need to know. That day ..." Peter shuddered, "It's one of the things that keeps me awake at night. I was right there when Thor ended it, and I ..." Peter looked down at his hands and closed them strongly into fists, "I had his blood everywhere, Y/N. Please, when I'm ready I'll be able to tell you. But I can't right now."

His voice was shuddery, a ghost of a whisper, and you could tell that his breathing was irregular as his hands shook. You quickly wrapped your hands around his fists and nodded, silently letting him know that you understood. 

Sometimes you forgot all the trauma Peter had been through because he hid it so well. It was one of the things that scared you the most, probably, considering he was able to shut it down around others. Of course, it flared up in his anger or his disconnect from the world, and you knew that he'd been letting some of these issues resurface through therapy and working through them. 

But hearing that Peter had been close and witnessed the murder of Thor right in front of his eyes - as a high school senior - and had blood on his hands and probably everywhere else was terrifying to you.

Peter jolted a bit as you pulled him in and hugged him fiercely. Part of him felt like a coward for not being able to tell you the whole details of the event. And a big part of him felt like he knew exactly why - because he felt that Thor's death was his fault. And maybe, if he was being completely honest, that he should have been the one who had died and he'd felt guilt seeping through his veins ever since. 

But he pushed it down as he held you close, sinking his fingers into your hair and listening to your breathing as the two of you stood alone. 

"So," he whispered, "Felicia's here."

"She scared the shit out of me," you chuckled, stepping back, "But if she hadn't been there -"

You stopped yourself, once again remembering the Harry Osborn portion of your evening. You knew you needed to tell Peter. In fact, you should have called him right that instant when you and Felicia made it into your apartment. But after seeing Peter so quickly shell-shocked just recalling a memory from years ago, it didn't feel fair to bring up Harry (a more recent scar in his trauma) right now. 

"Let's get to work," you stated, "I promised Jessica I'd have coffee with her and help her with some homework before the day began, and I don't want to disappoint."

Peter's entire being seemed to light up at the mention of Jessica, and you noticed it immediately. He smiled widely and grasped your hand, pulling you to the window as his suit spread across his body. 

You realized quickly that you'd be swinging to work. 

"I spent a ton of time with Jessica last night figuring out her powers," Peter explained to you as you wrapped yourself around his back and held on tight. You were used to swinging with Peter, but you also knew that sometimes if you weren't careful, you'd be free falling for a little bit in between swings, and you were not prepared for that.

"Sounds like fun," you said into his ear as the wind rushed past you.

"She's amazing. And she's going to do really great things, I can tell. But she just needs the proper training. I'd be ten times the hero I am now if I had had someone to train me. So my hope is she'll be prepared for whatever's thrown at her if I can just ..." 

Peter didn't finish his sentence but you understood what he was saying. It made you happy to know that he was actually enjoying his time with Jessica and that Jessica was opening up to Peter as well. You saw a lot of similarities in the two of them - their drive to do good, their intense focus when it came to training and being a hero, and that same sort of dorky soft side that Jessica provided without any care in the world and Peter hid away.

Peter landed in his office and the window slid closed again behind the two of you as you straightened yourself out. Peter's suit slid away from him and he reached for an old Midtown hoodie that was lying on the floor next to his desk. 

"I was thinking that maybe later tomorrow after we've celebrated Ned and we have some time off, why don't we call Loki?" Peter offered quietly, walking alongside you towards the elevator. 

It was almost a hilarious sight to see Peter in gym shorts and a hoodie at Stark Industries. He'd been doing his best to dress professionally since Tony had promoted him, and he'd always looked absolutely impeccable and fuckable in whatever dress pants or shirts he decided to wear. But today was a lab day for him and he didn't have any meetings, so comfort clothes it was. 

You were about to speak up and get in the elevator when Karen's voice rang throughout the office.

"Dr. Connors wishes to see you, Peter," she hummed, "Shall I let him in before you leave?"

"Oh," Peter stopped short, "Um ... sure."

"Dr. Connors?" you whispered, "Who's that?"

"He's the new guy I hired. A chemist."

"When?"

"A few days ago?" Peter thought out loud as Connors walked into his office. "I was going to tell you but then everything that's been happening ... it got away from me," he mumbled to you before turning to the doctor.

"Curt," he nodded, "I didn't expect to see you today."

"Mr. Parker," Connors nodded sharply. His eyes moved to you and you felt a weird prickling in your spine at his gaze. "You must be Miss Y/L/N," he offered his hand, "It's nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you as well," you said politely, shaking his hand. It didn't go unnoticed by you that Dr. Connors was missing his other arm, and you got a weird feeling start to manifest in your stomach as the doctor turned to Peter.

"I was hoping to work with you on some of the genetic coding I've been working on," he said hurriedly, "It's been a few busy days in the lab but I think I've found a component for regenerative cells and -"

"You've hardly been here a week," Peter furrowed his eyebrows, "And you're already trying to crack self-healing synapses?"

Connors smiled tightly and adjusted his glasses, "It would appear that way, Mr. Parker."

"Well," Peter itched at his forehead and sighed, trying to think of a reason to not have to sit and listen to Curt Connors ramble about something he could care less about. 

Maybe this was one of the lessons Tony wanted Peter to learn - that if you take on responsibility for hiring someone into the company, that person is going to feel an attachment or kinship to you. And now Peter had to figure out how to navigate that.

"I don't have time currently," Peter settled on, "I made a promise to an apprentice I would assist her in the lab."

"An apprentice?" Connors's nostrils flared, "But this is important."

"I'm sure it is," Peter nodded, "I do not doubt your work. But come back to me with a full intel report and some lab samples, and then we can get down to business."

"But Mr. Parker -"

"I don't mean to be rude, Dr. Connors," Peter cleared his throat and gave Connors a tired smile, "But that's how we do things here at Stark Industries. I can't sit down with you to talk about trials or any evolving project without an intel report and test results."

"I see," Connors stiffened as he straightened up a bit, "I'll come back tomorrow."

"That's a lot of work, Connors. Slow down and take some time to really work with it," Peter advised, "Rushing into anything usually results in decisions we don't always find compatible when we're in our right minds."

"We'll see," Connors nodded before turning to you, "It was nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Y/L/N."

"Yours as well, Dr. Connors," you nodded back, before he turned and quickly hustled out of Peter's office.

You looked up to Peter, who looked frustrated and tired, as he pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, "I'm started to wonder if I myself rushed into a decision of hiring the guy," he admitted, "He's crazed. Working here all late hours of the night and running on hardly anything but coffee."

"Sounds like another brilliant scientist I know," you squeezed his arm, "Now ... Jessica?"

"Right," Peter nodded, "She'll be in the café."

As the two of you got into the elevator, Peter turned to you and pressed his lips to your jaw, "Don't think I forgot about my reminder to speak with Loki," he mumbled, kissing along your cheek, "We'll need to do it eventually. Might as well do it sooner, rather than later."

"Fine," you huffed, "I guess you're right."

The elevator doors opened and you felt Peter's presence shift. Peter had mastered the passive face and stoic expression years ago, and you were always impressed with how blasé he could act even in the face of danger. His face hardly changed, other than to look angry or particularly uninterested in situations outside of private moments shared between you, friends, and family. So when Peter smiled softly as Jessica waved the two over, from her table in the café, you felt your heart warm.

"I was wondering when you'd show up!" she smiled brightly.

She and Miles were working on homework. Papers were strewn everywhere and Miles was using a stack of books as an armrest as he nibbled on the end of his pen. 

Peter wasn't super excited about it, but Jessica had asked if she could attend Brooklyn Visions Academy after meeting Miles. Peter had already set up an interview for her at Midtown Tech, and he'd kind of been excited for her to attend, but Visions was a good school too (even though Peter had beaten them in many a debate tournament) and Jessica enjoyed having Miles in her life more, so it had all worked out. Plus, they had a great journalism program that Peter could see Jessica leading the pack one day. 

She was smart - immensely gifted - but it would seem science and the tech side of education wasn't her thing. She could do it, and she grew up around it, but it wasn't her passion. Maybe that was why she found journalism so fascinating - it was different and a bit difficult for her to connect with people, and yet when she finally did and had that breakthrough, it meant all the more to her. 

Not that any of this made Peter hold back from making as many jabs as he could about Jessica having to travel to Brooklyn for school and how much better Midtown Tech was. 

"We were held up," you sighed, "Held hostage, one might say."

"I can't imagine that must have been much trouble for Spider-Man," Miles turned around and looked snarkily at Peter.

Peter couldn't figure this fucking kid out. He was a little shit - an asshole - and he was so cocky and loud, yet quietly pensive at the same time. He'd been hanging around Stark Industries a lot more lately since befriending Jessica, and since he was a boarding student at Visions, he'd stay out as late as he could without getting in trouble. 

Miles was smart, but the kind of dangerous smart that you knew could lead to something getting blown up. Peter couldn't ever read where his mind was going, and the one time he'd been in Peter's lab (trailing behind Jessica like a deer in headlights) he'd first correctly pointed out what Peter was working on and then promptly almost dropped the damned thing. 

Miles Morales was a wild card, and Peter didn't do well with those. 

"What are you working on?" Peter asked, ignoring Miles's statement and looking over the kids' shoulders at half scrambled out formulas. 

"Nothing," Jessica closed her textbook with a loud snap, "I know I said I'd need help with homework, Y/N, but Miles and I ended up finishing it early so now we have free time!"

Peter was about to say that they could go have dinner (even though he realized this meant having to spend more time with Miles, which he wasn't sure he liked) when he heard his name across the café.

"Yo!" MJ called over to them, having just entered. Harley trailed behind her, sifting through his bag and pulling out some work stuff.

"What's this criminal doing here?" MJ asked, jabbing her thumb in Miles's direction. Miles just rolled his eyes and smirked at MJ as she glared at him.

"We were working on homework," Jessica yawned, "But now we're done!"

"Babe, I gotta go," Harley mumbled, kissing MJ's cheek, "My shift starts soon. Call me when you're ready for dinner tonight."

Peter wrinkled his nose watching the intimate yet innocent interaction between Harley and MJ. They'd been dating longer than you and Peter had - and they'd not broken up at all or had any sort of falling out or arguments since dating like you and Peter had - and yet he oftentimes forgot that they were in what would be considered a serious relationship. It was a surreal thing, seeing your friends grow up. But Peter was sure that's how his friends felt about you and Peter moving in together.

You could feel MJ looking at you as Peter sat down next to Jessica and started looking over hers and Miles's homework. She nudged her head in a way you now knew well. The 'I know the proximity of Peter's super hearing and we should talk' kind of look. And that secret place was the storage closet across the lobby.

As you and MJ snuck out, Jason noticed the two of you and scrambled out of his seat, doing his best to follow you both incognito but failing miserably. His foot caught on the door as the three of you squeezed in and he nearly fell face first into your chest before you caught him.

"I noticed the two of you were heading for the gossip closet," he whispered, "I'm so fucking bored."

"I heard," MJ turned to look at you, ignoring Jason.

The three of you were shoulder-to-shoulder as you all pressed up against one another, and you could feel Jason's breathing on your neck as he turned to look at you. In the dark, you could still make out MJ's wild eyes as she looked down at you sharply.

"Is it true?" she asked.

"Yes," you moaned, flopping your face down into your hands, "My dad was Asgardian."

"What?!" MJ whisper-shrieked, "WHAT?"

"What do you mean what?" you panicked, "Isn't that what you were talking about?"

"I was talking about Harry!"

"Harry Osborn?" Jason gasped, "Isn't he that dick who -"

"Your dad is Asgardian?" MJ grasped your shoulder, "What the fuck?"

"I know!" you wailed quietly, "But how did you find out about Harry?"

"Felicia told me," MJ shrugged.

"Felicia Hardy?!" Jason looked startled, "Isn't she the one who -"

"Felicia," you groaned, "She can't go around telling people Harry's back before I tell Peter!"

"So you haven't told Peter yet?" MJ bit her lip, "I was wondering."

"How could I?" you rubbed your forehead, "You saw how disgruntled and hurt he was to see Felicia, and this whole Asgardian thing has really thrown us for a loop. Telling him Harry's back and that he was at my apartment is only going to send him over the edge."

"I'm nervous Peter's going to kill him," MJ admitted, "Like, real, actual murder."

"The thought had crossed my mind too," you mumbled.

"I'm sorry!" Jason's voice squeaked as he held his hands up as best he could in the small space, "You've both lost me. You're Asgardian? And Harry Osborn is here? And Felicia Hardy is back? All in the span of ... how long?"

"The Asgardian thing happened yesterday afternoon," you sighed, leaning back against the wall. You then launched into the whole thing of how Linda had found the components in your blood and DNA that had led her to the discovery, and how Peter was pushing for you to speak with Loki to find out why your father had been on Earth and who exactly he was. You then explained Harry showing up at your apartment and how Felicia had saved you from having to talk with him. 

"Turns out she's been following Whitney all this time," you grumbled, "And she said that Whitney has been following Harry around. So if Harry's now here ..."

"Fuck," MJ whispered. 

MJ wasn't rattled by many things often, but you could see the distress in her face as she nibbled on her bottom lip, "Well ... fuck," she said again.

"Yeah. So you can understand why I haven't told Peter yet."

"You'll have to tell him soon before he finds out from someone else," MJ advised.

"And you'll have to make sure you tell him before Whitney shows up so he can be prepared," Jason tacked on, "Because there's no way any of us are fighting off that psycho bitch again."

"I don't recall you being the one to hit her over the head with a toaster, Jason?" you quipped, watching as Jason visibly started sweating.

"But the thing with your dad," MJ brought up again, "Girl, you gotta figure that shit out before it eats you alive."

"I know, I know and I will," you sighed, "But firstly, we need to handle this whole thing with Harry and letting Peter know he's back. I'm nervous that if Harry had the nerve to show up at my apartment, then there's no stopping him from blindsiding Peter."

"I wouldn't be so sure," MJ hesitated, "I think Harry knows his place when it comes to Peter. I wouldn't be surprised if he's just sitting around waiting for you to tell Peter about him so that Peter can come and find him. Harry likes to be sought after, and especially by Peter."

"I'd hate to give him what he wants then ..." you mumbled, "Maybe I should wait?"

"Are you kidding?" Jason looked at you incredulously, "Y/N! You have to tell him now!"

"I should have Felicia there when I tell him," you decided, "She'll be able to explain it all to Peter where she's been and the whole Harry thing."

"That's good. That's good," MJ agreed, "Otherwise, I fear Peter literally will kill Harry."

"I don't know," you thought out loud, "I don't think Peter could ever actually hurt Harry."

Jason snorted, "Are you serious? Peter would destroy him."

You and MJ shared a look where you both had an understanding - Harry could just as easily destroy Peter, and it wouldn't take any sense of strength of actual fighting. Harry could tear Peter down over the phone, as he'd nearly done when you'd been in the hospital. You were fearful of how Peter would react seeing Harry again in person, but you hoped that never happened.

"We should go," you decided, "Peter's going to start looking for us."

"This feels wrong and dirty," Jason admitted while the three of you stumbled out of the closet, "This is not what my fantasy of seven minutes in heaven with two girls was like back in college."

"Grow up," MJ stated with a hint of amusement as she snapped one of Jason's suspenders. 

Peter had hardly noticed you'd disappeared, if he was being honest. He'd been so focused on what Jessica was showing him for one of her projects and listening to Miles talk about how he and Jessica were entering some art competition at school that when you returned he was surprised you'd left. 

He still kind of hated Miles, but the kids fascinated him. And he kind of hated to admit that.

For the rest of the day, you worked from Peter's lab while he worked. It was one of your favorite kind of work days where Peter would clear off one of his lab tables just for you, and you would set up a little office there while Peter worked. Étienne stopped by to do some work on the art gallery, and Peter had to attend a quick impromptu meeting after a malfunction in one of the labs, and by the end of the day the two of you were pretty exhausted. 

But neither of you showed it as you attended Ned's birthday part at MJ's loft. To Thandie and Lazlo's credit, they'd done everything perfectly. You were so grateful to see all their hard work and the fact that you'd hardly had to do anything that you almost started crying. Ned was so happy, which made it all worth it.

It was a joyous celebration. Ned had invited some friends from high school and college, and all the friends you considered family. About halfway through the night, Liz showed up with a tray of cookies and an apology for being late. But you were just so excited to see her that none of that really mattered as you ushered her into the loft.

"How have you been?" you asked excitedly, "You've been so busy with that new job of yours and since you moved we've hardly seen you!"

"I know," Liz smiled sheepishly, "It's been ... involved. How have you been?"

Cindy had decided not to attend Ned's birthday, out of respect for the high school friends Ned had wanted to invite. Cindy was still hellbent on "staying dead" and though Peter had pushed her to speak with her parents on multiple occasions, she was still stubbornly strong in her decision. But Liz knew - of course Liz knew - because MJ and Liz talked regularly and Liz had been another dear friend of Cindy's so it was only fair that Liz should know. Liz was even going to stay the night at MJ's so that Cindy could come over for breakfast the next morning and the girls could all catch up. 

But that also meant Liz was aware of the whole 'when you boyfriend's ex comes back from the dead' dilemma you'd been dealing with for the past few months. 

"Yeah yeah good," you nodded, "Busy. Working towards graduation and all. Happy this semester is almost over."

Liz shrugged off her coat and nodded, "Only a few more weeks right? Before vacation?"

"Yep," you rocked back and forth on your feet as you waited for her to hang up her coat, "And you? How's work? Are you dating? Where are you working again?"

"Oh just this government run tech company," Liz waved her hand airily, "You've probably never heard of it. It's a little upstate, which is why moving out of the city made sense."

"Kind of sad though, considering you'd only just moved back after the whole thing with your dad," you pouted, "We really thought we'd have you around more often."

"Yeah me too," Liz ran her hand through her hair tiredly, "But Alchemax pays well."

You stiffened as she said the name, but Liz didn't even notice as MJ and another girl from their high school debate team rushed up to greet Liz, pulling her away from you. 

Alchemax. 

It seemed so long ago since you and Peter had had the discussion and argument about the infamous and illustrious mysterious tech company Peter seemed to hate so much. He'd hardly said anything about it, but he'd known more than he'd let on and you'd just had to be okay with that. You knew that if it was anything super serious Peter would let you know the danger level. But if he was so concerned about you working there, he wouldn't be happy to know Liz was working there either. Right?

It took a moment to find Peter in the crowd. You weren't used to be separated from him like this at parties. Usually he stuck to your side and you were the one always meandering off to converse and catch up with others, but this was Peter's realm and all Peter's friends, and he was trying to be more social. 

You found him in the kitchen leaning up against the counter with a beer in his hand as he spoke with a shorter, sophisticated looking guy and another tall, lean guy with dark wavy hair and a nice cashmere royal purple sweater.

"Hi peaches," Peter opened his arm for you and you slipped under it, still a bit rigid having learned the new Liz information. "This is Flash," he pointed with his beer to the boy in the cashmere sweater, "And this is Abe," pointing to the shorter guy, who smiled and waved at you. 

"I was on debate with both of them," Peter informed you.

"And chess club, and robotics lab, and band, and the academic decathlon," Abe pointed out.

"And that poetry club that Betty Brant forced us all into," Flash grumbled, "That bitch."

"It's nice to meet you both," you said as politely as you could.

"We've heard lots about you," Flash nodded, "Mostly from Ned, since Peter never talks to us anymore."

"Flash used to bully me in high school," Peter said in a tone far more chipper than you would have thought, due to the nature of the sentence.

"He also has one of the only verified Spider-Man fan accounts on Instagram," Abe smirked, "He ran the Spider-Man fan club in high school too. And junior year, he dressed up as Spider-Man for Halloween."

"We get it," Flash grit his teeth.

"And we won't forget it," Peter smirked, taking another swig of his beer, "Do you still run the account?"

"Fuck you, Parker," Flash glared at him.

"Awesome," you whispered, "So lovely meeting you both. Anyway, Peter?" you tugged his sweater a bit, "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Sure."

Peter looked confused as he nodded goodbye to his friends. You were usually one for socializing and delving into deep conversations with whomever you met, but he followed you without question as you led him into MJ's bedroom. You closed the door behind you and turned to him with a worried expression.

"What happened now?" he asked hurriedly, "You look -"

"Liz is working for Alchemax," you blurted out, "She just told me! It's why she moved upstate and where she's been working, and you said a few months ago that Alchemax is dangerous or something right? And that was a few months ago but Liz moved over the summer, which means that she's been working at Alchemax during the time that you knew it was awful or whatever because you wouldn't let me work there. But Liz is a really great person and she deserves better so she really shouldn't be working there if she's in danger and -"

"Y/N, peaches, please," Peter stepped forward and grasped your face in his hands, "Take a breath."

"Liz could be in danger!" you sniffled.

"She's in danger, but she's fine," Peter informed you evenly, "I can't ... I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

"What? But Peter, I've basically figured it out! So -"

"What have you figured out?" Peter asked, "Y/N, baby, I love you and I know you want to keep everyone safe, but this one is out of your hands. Liz is a smart, smart woman and she knows what she's doing. She's doing it willingly, but I can't tell you. I can't let you get too close or it'll ruin what we've been working on."

"But Liz is in an unsafe environment," you glared, "How could you let her?"

"I can't tell you," Peter repeated, "And I can't let you meddle."

"I'm not going to -!" you started, but huffed angrily, seeing Peter's knowing expression. You crossed your arms and pouted like a child, mumbling, "Fine."

"Thank you," Peter kissed your forehead, "I'll never let anything happen to Liz. You know that, right? I wouldn't let anything happen to any of our friends."

"God we need a vacation," you groaned, "I can't keep up with all this new shit."

"It's not an easy life," Peter agreed, "But you make it easier."

"That was gross," you whispered, looking up at Peter as he smiled down at you. You could see worry lines sinking into his forehead and starting to make a home for themselves, and you noticed that Peter's eyes, though alert and awake, were fading a bit. 

He was tired.

It wasn't too entirely difficult to stick around until the singing and cake portion of the party, but by that time some people were starting to get so drunk that really only half the people were paying attention by that point. Peter stuck it out, but there seemed to be a silent understanding between the two of you that once the cake had been eaten, the two of you would make your subtle exit.

"Thanks for doing all this," Ned hugged you tightly.

"It really wasn't me. Thandie and Lazlo ran all the errands," you told him.

"Regardless, I know you worked hard to make this happen and it means a lot," he smiled widely, "And thanks for being here, Peter. I know you're busy."

"Never too busy for you," Peter stated, wincing at the end because his sentence sounded like a robot trying to sound human. Peter loved Ned, and he would do anything for him, but voicing it and being cordial and affectionate still was something Peter had cut off after his accident and he was still trying to reconnect with.

"So close," Ned snorted, "Thanks man."

The night air was frigid as you and Peter left MJ's loft, and as much as you were bundled up, swinging home would have been terribly inconvenient and uncomfortable. So instead you took the train. A little boy stared at the two of you with his mouth wide open the entire five stops you took, and eventually Peter waved to him quickly when the two of you started to exit, causing the little boy to gasp and clutch his mouth with excitement. 

"This isn't my stop," you told Peter, tugging on his hand towards your train as Peter wrapped his arm around you.

"Let's spend tonight at ours," he offered, "Just you and me."

"But Webs -"

"Will be fine," Peter chuckled, "And if you want him at our place tonight, I can swing out and get him."

"If you think for a second I'm going to let you swing Webs across the city, Peter Parker I swear -"

Peter ended up swinging Webs across the city. The townhouse had felt so empty without him and you'd been nervous about him all alone at your apartment as the winter wind had started to pick up. Peter had been out the window and back in no time with your frightened baby boy wrapped up in a sling against Peter's chest.

It was quite the sight to see - Spider-Man himself climbing through your window with one of those baby slings around his chest and your cat curled up inside of it. The sling was supposed to be a gift for Aggie and her newborn, but she'd already had a sling by the time you were able to gift it, and it turned out Aggie's newborn hated slings anyway, so it had been sitting dormant and unwanted on the bottom of your closet for months. 

And now it had a purpose - Webs's transport swinging sling. 

Peter found it emasculating, you found it adorable (and took many photos), and Webs fucking hated it. 

"Hey," Peter whispered, reaching out across the mattress to rub the back of your cheek with his knuckles, "Peaches, we need to call Loki."

You groaned and hugged Webs closer to your chest. It was three in the morning and Webs had finally calmed down after his midnight adventure. You and Peter had relaxed and watched a movie, and since the credits had been scrolling Peter had just been watching you softly. 

"I know I keep pestering you," Peter said sweetly, "But it's in your best interest. The longer you put it off, the harder it's going to be. And the more difficult it will be for you to hear answers you've been festering over."

"I know," you muttered, sitting up. Webs jumped off your lap and stalked out of the bedroom, starting to explore the new place now that he was finally recovered from his traumatizing journey. 

Peter checked his watch and did the math, "It's around nine in the morning in New Asgard. Now would be a great time to call."

"I'm not dressed," you whined.

Peter chuckled as he looked down at you in only one of his t-shirts. You looked comfortable, and Peter hated making you socialize so early in the morning when you needed some rest, but he knew you needed to talk to Loki more. 

"Get dressed and I'll set up the call," Peter tapped your ass as he stood, causing you to squawk as you searched for your bra. 

By the time you made it down to the kitchen, Peter has a contraption set up on the floor that immediately caused you to get nervous. Seeing you sudden shift in confidence, Peter quickly pulled you towards him as he explained.

"It's a holographic projection," he explained, "So we can actually see Loki while we talk to him."

"Oh," you mumbled, "... Nice."

"I asked if he had a moment and he should call in a bit," Peter smoothed down your hair and kissed your nose, "It's going to be fine, peaches. I promise."

You could feel your chest convulsing in your ribcage. It was tightening so tightly you felt as if it could snap, and then you would feel your palms, back of your neck, and feet start to sweat as your hands shook. You scalp started to tingle and your chest heaved uncomfortably through the tightness as suddenly Loki appeared in front of you the two of you.

He was cast in the blue holographic glow, but under that glow you could see his regal stance. You'd seen countless photos of this god of mischief all over the internet, but these photos had all been of him in royal garb. First there were the photos from the Attack of New York where he'd been in full battle wardrobe. And then there were all the photos of him in suits, which seemed to fit him naturally and powerfully. 

But here, standing in front of you, was a man in a pair of dark jeans, a dark green thick knitted jumper, and a pair of heavy work boots. He looked just like any other man you would see on the street with his rustled black curls and black chipped nail polish that you caught a glimpse of as he crossed his arms.

"It's been a while, Peter Parker."

He spoke slowly and his accent was like butter as Peter stiffened next to you and nodded. "Thank you for speaking with us, Loki."

"King Loki," he raised a finger in a joking manner, "Just a reminder."

"Right of course," Peter grunted, grinding his teeth. 

As much as this was terrifying for you, Peter wasn't too entirely eager to be speaking with the god of mischief either. He and Loki didn't have the greatest bond or connection, and in a lot of ways they had both mutually agreed to never speak again. Peter was shocked when Loki had replied to his text to begin with, but he was sure Loki just wanted to see what Peter could possibly want from him. 

Their history wasn't the greatest, and Peter knew that most of that was his fault. But he desperately hoped that Loki kept that to himself so that everyone could focus on you and your journey to find out about your father.

"I'm intrigued to know what more you could possibly take from me," Loki spoke again, "I mean," he smiled, "Want from me."

"Loki, I'd like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N," Peter gestured to you, pushing you gently to step forward. 

"It's an honor to meet you, King Loki."

"Oh my God you do not have to call him that," Peter groaned, "He's only saying that for show."

"I am a king," Loki scoffed, "Or do you not remember how I became one?"

Peter flushed and did his best to control his breathing. This wasn't about him, or his history with Loki. This was about you.

"A few months ago when your Asgardian diplomats attended the technological summit at Stark Industries, they were treated by one of our finest doctors after the ... incident," Peter cleared his throat, "Y/N has been suffering from a biological weapon used against her a few years ago when fighting off Kingpin and the Nefaria crime family."

"I heard," Loki nodded, "I'm sorry for your struggle, Y/N."

"It hasn't been so bad," you mumbled.

"Oh, I meant having to date Mr. Parker," Loki smirked, turning to Peter as you now felt hot all over and Peter clenched his hands into fists.

"As I was saying," Peter continued cooly, "Our doctor detected an anomaly in Y/N's blood whenever she was doing bloodwork to continue Y/N's treatment, and after treating your diplomats it became aware to us that Y/N's anomaly was actually, in fact, Asgardian blood and DNA."

Loki's eyes turned to you and you felt yourself crumbling under his gaze. You were sure he was wondering how someone of your stature standing there so small could possibly be Asgardian - you were wondering it yourself. He was looking at you - looking through you - and you felt like you were going to collapse at any moment. 

"I see," Loki whispered.

"I'm sending you a photo now of Y/N's father," Peter started typing into his phone.

"Tyr," Loki looked down at his phone at the photo before quickly looking back up at you, "Tyr was your father."

"W-What? No. Um, well, I guess? Tyron Y/L/N? He was a private investigator. For a while he was a cop but um, he ... stopped ... that," you felt your throat go gummy as you realized secrets and other things you'd locked up from Peter were about to be revealed. 

"Interesting," Loki sniffled, "I've never heard of a one-handed police officer before."

You closed your eyes and squeezed them shut. You could feel Peter staring at you in shock as you nodded slowly, "He had the mechanical hand for a while, but it stopped working," you explained softly to Loki.

"I'm sure," Loki nodded.

"Your dad only had one hand?" Peter looked at you in confusion. You'd never mentioned this, and considering Peter was your one-armed boyfriend, he would have thought this could have popped up at any point during your relationship. 

"You never told me that."

"I know," you nodded, "I'm sorry."

"Is that why you took pity on me?" Peter asked sharply, "When you saw me in the hospital?"

"No!" you quickly gasped, turning to him, "No; never. I can assure you that was never pity."

"I don't understand why you didn't tell me." 

Peter looked considerably hurt and you could understand why. Peter's loss of his arm had been a huge struggle for him for so long - it still was - and though you had been there for him cheering him on from the first day, you'd never once let him know of your experience with amputees, or the fact that you grew up with one.

"I didn't want you to think that I was only attracted to you or cared about you because I was attached to you being an amputee after I'd already told you that I'd lost my father and you reminded me of him. I didn't want you to feel like I was pitying you," you admitted, "And I hardly talk about him, so after a while it just became harder to tell you. You've become so much more confident with your arm and you're so comfortable having it off around me that I thought if I told you now, you'd ... look at me the way you're looking at me now," you whispered.

Peter stepped back, clearing his throat. As much as he could understand why you hadn't told him, he still wished you had. Though, if he was being honest, he wasn't sure he'd know how he would have reacted. 

"I'm curious to know how your father explained his hand to you," Loki sniffed, seeming both eager and uninterested in the conversation at the same time.

You sighed deeply before sitting down at one of the barstools at the counter. The way Peter had set up the holographic call, it was like you were having a conversation with Loki over your kitchen island. It made you feel a little less frightened, but you were still on edge.

"When I was growing up and while my dad was still a cop, he had the fancy mechanical hand that functioned perfectly. He said that he lost it in an accident and that he'd been chosen for some experiment in prosthesis limbs to replace residual ones. It had worked for him, but for no one else so he'd just been lucky. But after a while it ceased to function, which I'm now understanding had something to do with his Asgardian identity?"

"You have no idea," Loki whispered, "This is fascinating!"

"It's not a game, Loki," Peter spat, "This is Y/N's life! This is her father, who died, and we want answers."

"Tyr is ... dead?" Loki looked a bit shocked, "I can only guess it was some illness that took him quickly. A few years ago, I reckon? Dare I say, almost six years ago?"

"Yes," you gasped, "How did you -?"

"Your father was Tyr Odinson, the first son of Odin. He was born far before any of my other siblings or my adoption into the family, and he ruled during a very different time for Asgard. One might call it a little bloody, unfortunately. He was Odin's right hand, and he and his younger sister Hela -" Loki shuddered, "- assisted my father in conquering multiple realms. Your father was the god of war."

"Oh," you squeaked, "Sounds ... destructive."

"Hardly," Loki waved his hand passively, "With war comes lots of laws and regulations. Wars are battled over codes of honor and soldiers understand how to address one another on the battlefield. Your father was a noble, respectable man, from what I've heard. He started to get lost in all the bloodshed happening on Asgard's behalf and he petitioned Odin to become a peaceful empire watching over their realms. Ironically, the god of war had had enough of war."

"Neat," you whispered, unsure how to react. You could feel Peter's hand firmly on your lower back, supporting you as he stood behind you, but you felt detached. 

"Hela, being the goddess of death, obviously hated and despised this plan. She set out to kill Odin and Tyr, but she knew she couldn't destroy them herself, not being strong enough. So she captured a murderous and savage wolf named Fenris who was actually an old god of Asgard before we became rulers.

"Fenris attacked Asgard and your father was the only one who could go up against him as Hela battled Odin. Tyr lost his hand to the wolf before it was taken out, and Odin was able to capture Hela when Tyr finally came to Odin's aid and restrained Hela while Odin imprisoned her. So, like any good sister, she cursed him."

"W-What?"

Loki sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Yes, it's all very complicated, isn't it? Well, Odin imprisoned Hela in a wasteland until his death, so Hela cursed Tyr that the poison of Fenris's teeth would finally kill him the day she broke free and brought Fenris back to avenge Asgard and blah blah blah. It's all terribly boring and I've only just learned a bit of this history myself, honestly. It's mental the things you learn about your family, am I right?"

"So ... six years ago ...?" you muttered while trying to establish a timeline. You remembered that the Asgardians had arrived on Earth as refugees after Asgard was destroyed about a year before Thanos attacked. You had a clear memory of your father passing away and attending the funeral only to sit at the kitchen counter the next day and watch the news in your silent family home early the next morning while everyone else still slept. 

It had been a weird moment knowing that only two other people were in the house and yet everyone was home. It was usually the four of you, but now "everyone was home" when it was just your mom and sister, and that struck you as odd. You'd hated the silence, because it had always been you and your dad up and loud in the early mornings spending time together. So in order to combat the silence, you'd turned on the news and watched the reports of the Asgardians arriving on earth and the political decisions being made. 

"That makes sense," Peter spoke up, having done the math himself, "Hela awoke Fenris to avenge Asgard, but they both died in the end of Ragnarok, meaning that in the time before the destruction of your planet, Tyr's curse came back."

"Tyr's hand was crafted by Odin himself in his gratitude for defeating the wolf. My guess is that as Odin's power waned, so did Tyr's hand, hence his career change. I'm sorry for you loss," Loki nodded to you, "I would have been honored to meet such a valiant hero."

"What I don't understand is why he came to Earth though," you furrowed your eyebrows, "If he was a prince and Odin's son, then why ...?"

"Thor was born," Loki shrugged, "Prophecies were made, and Tyr realized he no longer wanted to take part in the ebbing battles flooded through our kingdom. So Heimdall sent him here."

"Heimdall?"

"Oh he's lovely. He's our watchman, well, now he's just a fisherman I guess. Still, his commitment to the Asgardian people is quite commendable. Although his whole white-eyed prophecies gig isn't too popular these days. Very gloomy."

Loki looked a little unsettled. 

"O-Okay," you took a deep breath, "Well, thank you."

Loki raised his eyebrows, "You're taking this rather well."

"What would be the point in screaming and crying?" you asked, "Other than therapeutic, I'm sure."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure your father planned to live out his whole life with you. I'm sure he never anticipated Hela being freed, but when my father died there was no stopping her."

"Thank you."

"And also it would have been extremely awkward when you all continued to age and die and then your father would still be in the middle of his life," Loki winced, "Better he died before you, I reckon."

"Hey!" Peter yelled, "She lost her father!"

"We all lose people, Mr. Parker!" Loki snapped back, "You're well-versed, are you not, in the matter? You've both lost enough and caused enough loss in your life to understand."

You could see a great discomfort in Peter's gaze as he stared back at Loki defiantly. There was a history between the two of them you'd have to ask Peter about later, but currently your mind felt like soup. There was so much information flowing through you that you could barely contain it all. You wondered if your mom knew everything, or if your father had kept things from her as well? You wondered if she even knew of his Asgardian origin? It had seemed like it, at one point, but you could never be sure. 

You felt ill. 

"I assume you'd like to come visit?" Loki addressed you again, "We can make up your room immediately for your arrival."

"Oh! Um, thank you," you nodded, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter tightly, "I unfortunately have obligations here I must attend to."

"But you must visit," Loki urged you, "I mean," he laughed lightly, "You must realize what this means, don't you?"

Peter already knew where this was going and for the first time since finding out about your Asgardian DNA, he felt scared. He could lose you, and it would be as simple as you making a decision ... the right decision. 

"I'm afraid I don't?" 

Your confusion made Peter feel even more miserable, because the reality of the situation had yet to hit you. 

"Peaches," you whispered, hand on your lower back and other hand on top of yours, "Tyr was Odin's firstborn son. You're a princess."

"And," Loki spoke up, "considering your father was Odin's firstborn, you're the heir to the throne."

You promptly spent the next few hours vomiting. 

It was almost immediately after Loki presented you with your birthright that you dashed off to the bathroom on the first floor and vomited your guts into the toilet. Peter was by you in an instant. He'd quickly let Loki know he would be in touch, and Loki promised to keep your existence quiet between only him, Heimdall, and Valkyrie until you'd made your decision. 

Since then Peter had been by your side rubbing your back and holding your hair as you'd retched. After your first episode, Peter had scooped you into his arms and carried you upstairs to your bedroom. He'd brought you water and Webs had curled up at your feet, but the second you tried to think to speak on the situation, you'd felt ill again and raced now to the ensuite bathroom in your bedroom. 

For two hours Peter sat by you as you hunched over the toilet. He sat with his back up against the wall and his legs curled up in front of him as he rubbed your back and watched you sleepily think through the situation. You were mentally and physically drained, and Peter could see that it was manifesting itself in an ugly way. You were sweaty and sickly, and your eyes were bleary and red. Your cheeks were hot to the touch and you were feverishly shuddering whenever Peter tried to get you to drink something. 

It wasn't the first time you and Peter had helped one another through sickness. There had been Peter's sinus infection that had knocked him out for a week last year around New Years where you'd started making soup around the clock and helping him to rest. And before that you'd at one point switched birth controls and the period in-between the transition had been monstrous and deadly, which Peter had nursed you through.

But this was different. 

This was life altering. 

"I-I'm not," you shook your head, wiping your mouth as Peter pressed a cold cloth to your forehead and flushed the toilet after your most recent attack. "I can't do this."

"No one is asking you to," Peter spoke softly and calmly, "You're in charge of your own destiny and you determine your own future. No one else."

"But I have to," you sniffled, tears welling up in your eyes and searing down your face. 

Peter wished he could make this all better, and selfishly a part of him wished they'd never found out about your father's true identity. This was paining you deeply and Peter couldn't do anything to help ease the pain, but at least he could be here.

"You don't have to do anything," Peter assured you, "The only thing you have to do is take care of yourself."

It felt as though all the mounting stress and strain since Cindy's return was all coming out of you now. You weren't even vomiting anything solid at this point, just phlegm that was itching at the back of your throat. Your body was beyond exhausted, and you felt cold, hollow, and immobile.

Peter's warm fingers itched at the back of your neck as he checked your antidote patch. He couldn't stop himself from checking just to make sure that this wasn't some sort of biological weapon symptom from your patch malfunctioning again. It was his deepest fear, and now that fear was building on the mountain of "what if's" should you decide to step into your duty as part of the Asgardian royal family.

There had been trepidation from the Asgardians when Thor died who should take his place on the throne. No one had trusted Loki enough to lead them, and Brunnhilde had spent centuries off Asgard after failing in her mission against Hela as a Valkyrie. Brunnhilde wasn't even of royal blood. And yet, Thor had made it known that in the event of his death, the two would make great leaders of Asgard. 

Peter knew there were still Asgardians uncertain of the joint ruling. Neither had been popular enough to rule alone, but the Asgardians held firm to Loki's royal lineage (even though he was adopted, which didn't bode super well for him) and Brunnhilde's lack of royal blood. Brunnhilde understood the people though, and she was able to connect with them and help Thor rebuild New Asgard, so the people did have some respect for her. 

All that aside, neither of them were super popular. 

But the long lost princess of the god of war, the mighty Tyr? Come to save them in their time of need and rule over them? That might be something the Asgardians wouldn't let go of too easily, and Peter knew that the Asgardians were stellar at holding grudges. 

Once they got you, they wouldn't let you go. 

And where would that leave Peter? Alone again? Back in New York swinging around by night and yelling in conference rooms by day? The idea of spending a day at Stark Industries without seeing your face or hearing your voice made him feel also as ill as you looked, but he swallowed his insecurities to better care for you. 

You'd fallen asleep with your cheek pressed against the toilet seat, and Peter felt a softness spread throughout his body as he watched you. Webs was perched on the sink, looking down at you and his tail was swishing back and forth as he waited for Peter to do something. Slowly, as not to wake you, Peter lifted you into his arms and carried you to bed, Webs following closely at his feet. 

You shifted a bit as Peter placed you down, slowly undressing you until you were in only his t-shirt again, ready for bed. You mumbled tiredly as he let you rest sitting up against his chest while he unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side after pulling it out from under the shirt and then slowly lowered you down onto the bed. 

You seemed to sleep deeply throughout the rest of the night. Peter watched you the whole time, always adjusting so you were more comfortable, or getting up to get water just in case you woke up feeling ill again. He and Webs seemed to tag team, both staring and watching as you slept. Both boys were too nervous to leave you be for a moment too long and unattended, just in case you needed them. 

And Peter couldn't help but wonder what the morning would bring. 

When you woke, Webs was curled up on your chest making it hard to breathe. Peter was facing you, eyes closed and breath coming out in puffs past his squished lips from where his arm was tucked under his head. He'd obviously fallen asleep watching you, and considering the dark circles under his eyes, he'd most likely only just fallen asleep. 

Your throat felt sore and hot, and your body ached as you shifted a bit. Peter's eyes immediately snapped open at the feeling of you moving, and his eyes met yours in the light of day.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Morning," you croaked. 

Peter scrambled, reaching over you to grab the glass of water he'd prepared for you the night before. He handed it to you delicately as he helped ease you into a sitting position, and he waited patiently as he silently coaxed you to drink the whole thing.

"So," he stated after you finished your water.

"Yep," you nodded. 

Neither of you seemed to know what to say, but finally you coughed a bit before speaking up. 

"I didn't tell you about my dad not having his hand because I didn't want you to think I was into you only to help you," you told him quietly, "It was unfair of me, and I had multiple opportunities to tell you, and it was lying by omission. I should have told you about it, and my history of aiding amputees, and I am deeply sorry I abused your trust in me."

"I'm not mad," Peter shook his head, "And I understand. I'm a bit hurt, obviously, but all our journeys are so different. I think I was so broken for a while and letting it consume me so deeply that if you had brought it up, I would have reacted poorly. You were right not to tell me initially, but I mean, after a while it would have been nice. And I have no idea how I didn't notice whenever I've been at your mom's."

"He hid it in photos," you shrugged, "He'd have his hand behind his back or behind one of ours. It always bothered me, because I felt like he wasn't showing his true and full self. Which I guess is why I've always pushed for you to show your arm and be open about it."

"I understand," Peter nodded. 

"I can't rule New Asgard, Peter," you whispered fearfully, "I can't."

"No one is asking you to."

"Oh I'm sorry, were you on the same call as me last night?" you asked sharply.

Peter raised his eyebrows and you sighed, your face softening. You curled your knees up against your chest and rested your chin on your knees. "It seemed pretty obvious to me what Loki was asking."

"Loki asks a lot, and you never have to do as he asks," Peter told you firmly, "Loki only looks out for himself, so whatever he has planned, I'm sure he's already spinning some wild story on how to make sure he's the one whispering in your ear should you take the throne."

"I'm not taking any throne."

"You won't have to if you don't want to," Peter nodded strongly.

"What is up with you and Loki anyway?"

Peter rubbed his tired eyes and shook his head, "I promise I'll tell you, but I really don't have the emotional capacity, and I don't think you do either, to get into that right now. But it's nothing drastic. Just some nasty words passed between the two of us in the past."

"Okay," you nodded, "I trust you."

Peter laid back down next to you and stared up at the ceiling. You laid next to him, both of you on your backs, and neither touching as the city started to come alive and wake up around you. Peter's hand slowly reached out for yours and for the next little while, you both held hands and didn't speak, appreciating this quiet, uninterrupted moment. 

"You're a princess," Peter whispered, "A real princess. You're an alien princess."

"Yeah."

"Like, from space."

"I've never been to space."

"Right, but your DNA has."

"That's not how DNA works, lover. You're the scientists between us. You should know."

"But like ... space alien princess," Peter whispered. His exhaustion was definitely getting to him. 

"Sure."

Another beat of silence, and for a second you figured Peter had finally fallen asleep.

"I should have been calling you 'princess' all this time."

Your reaction was involuntary. You tore your hand from Peter's, sat up, and turned away from him as you curled up against yourself a bit. Peter propped himself up on his elbow and placed his hand on your back.

"Y/N?"

"Don't call me that," you shuddered, "Ever. Please."

"What?"

"P-Princess."

"It's just a title, baby. It's nothing -"

"Harry called me that."

Peter's hand stopped rubbing up and down your back and he instinctively let go, his hand hovering over your back now as he waited. He watched as you stood and wiped your sweaty hands on his shirt you'd slept in, pacing a bit as your breathing became more and more shallow.

"Y/N ..." he sat up, "Hey, peaches, come on. It's okay. It's just a name and I won't mention it ever again, okay? Harry's gone. He's not getting anywhere near you ever again."

"Yes he is," you whispered, turning and staring at Peter nervously. 

Peter sat back a bit, his face shifting from confusion, to anger, and then to disbelief, "That's not funny," he chuckled nervously.

"He - I was going to tell you, but I just - the whole Felicia thing and then, you know me and my DNA shit. But last night when Felicia - he was there. I mean, he was," you coughed, "He was at my apartment."

Peter stood so suddenly you stumbled back a bit. His face was stone and his eyes were burning as his hands clenched and unclenched in fists. You could see a vein popping on his neck, and he rolled his neck a bit, squaring his shoulders. 

"What?" he whispered, eerily quiet.

"He was at my apartment. He disarmed whatever security you had. He's back in the city and s-stopped by. And Felicia kicked his ass. She dropped out of nowhere and clawed him right in the face. He left. But he's here."

"And you're just telling me this now?" Peter's nostrils flared and you could see the nanotech of his suit start to spread across his body.

"Peter - no!" you stepped towards him, "Felicia asked him to leave and he left. He left! He hasn't contacted me and he -"

"I'm going to kill him," Peter growled before turning, kicking open the latch on the window, and swinging out into the sky as you screamed after him. 

Adrenaline was rushing through Peter's body and the blood was pumping so loudly that he could barely hear anything else as he swung towards OSCORP. The beating in his ears was so loud, in fact, that when he crashed through the windows of the top office of the building, he barely heard the glass shatter. 

His whole body was numb and he was seeing red as Harry looked up from his large desk having hardly flinched at Peter's entrance. 

"Ah!" he smiled, standing, as Peter stalked towards him, "I was wondering when you'd show -UP!" Harry gasped as Peter grasped him by the next and held him up, toes dangling against the floor. 

"Peter," Harry croaked, grasping at Peter's hand around his neck as he struggled to breath, "This isn't how I like to be choked."

Peter tossed him down, watching as Harry rolled along the marble floors until he groaned, landing on his hands and knees, hacking for air. Peter strode over, raising his fist, and as Harry turned to him, Peter swung down punching him in the face.

The slight scabbing from Felicia's claw marks broke and blood trickled down Harry's face and now broken lip. 

"You," Peter snarled, grasping Harry by his black silk shirt and pulling him up into the air, "How dare you go to her."

Peter threw Harry again, watching as he fell backwards over a conference table, which Peter easily pushed aside as if with the flick of his wrist - it was that easy. Just the sight of Harry here in front of him was making him furious, but knowing that Harry had gone to you and been so close to you was what was fueling Peter's rage. 

"Now, let's talk about this darling," Harry put his hands up in defense, having barely regained his footing before Peter kicked him in the chest and sent him stumbling back into the wall. "It's been a while and you're not even going to let me see that pretty face?"

Peter pushed aside a large plush chair and Harry flinched as Peter walked forward. He let his mask retract into his suit and Harry smiled, "There he is," he whispered.

"How dare you," Peter lifted his fist and punched Harry square in the face. Even though Peter wanted to unleash his full strength on Harry, he knew it would kill him. Peter felt physically like he was just casually slapping Harry around, but he knew he was causing enough damage for it to hurt. 

"How DARE you," Peter yelled, grasped Harry by the collar again and slamming him up against the wall, "I told you to never come back here," he snarled.

They were nose to nose as Harry smiled again, laughing a bit as he reached up to wipe blood off his mouth with the back of his hand, "You know I can't stay away from you, darling."

Peter flinched. Like Harry calling you 'princess,' Harry had always coined Peter 'darling,' which had seemed a ridiculous name but Peter had always secretly liked it. Hearing it again after so long made Peter's entire body erupt in a confusion of relief, anger, and searing hot pain. He hated Harry so much, and yet he missed him just the same. 

"I'm going to punch you again," Peter warned, but it didn't sound like a threat, not nearly as much as he'd hoped it would. His voice was turning weak.

"Do it," Harry whispered, nearly begging.

Peter screamed and punched him. Harry fell to the ground laughing, rolling onto his back as he wiped at his now bloody nose. 

"Hot," he nodded up at Peter, groaning a bit as he rubbed his side, "I see you've gotten stronger since I left."

"You fucking asshole," Peter stood over him, "You fucking piece of shit. How dare you come back and how dare you speak to Y/N!"

He squatted down and grasped Harry again, hoisting him up as Harry groaned and mumbled, "Here we go again," as if this was some sort of game. Peter had half a mind to stop since Harry seemed to be enjoying this so much. But he couldn't stop. His body was on autopilot as he reached back and punched Harry again now in the gut, causing Harry to groan loudly and fall back to the floor. 

"No one wants you here," Peter growled, "Leave."

"Hey, you burst into my office," Harry looked up at him playfully, "Shouldn't I be telling you to leave?"

"I'm going to fucking kill you," Peter snarled, "I'll do it, Harry. I'll really fucking do it."

"God I hope so," Harry collapsed from his hands and knees onto his back, looking up at Peter, "What a sexy way to die, at the hands of my lover."

Everything stopped. It was silent. Harry's lips were moving, but Peter couldn't hear anything. He could barely see - everything was fuzzy. Hearing Harry call him his 'lover' brought something out of Peter he'd never felt before. That word was reserved for the only person who had ever treated him like a lover, the only person who had ever supported him like one, and the only person who had ever, ever, actually treated Peter as an equal in a relationship. 

With an animalistic scream that scared Harry, Peter cocked his elbow back and threw down his fist.

"Ow fuck!" Harry squawked, realizing Peter was no longer fucking around as Peter's fist went through the marble where Harry's face once was before he moved. 

"Peter! What the fuck!" 

Harry scrambled up to his feet as Peter prowled after him, throwing out a web that caught Harry's hand. Peter yanked on the web, causing Harry to stumble back before Peter threw the web out to the side, connecting it to the wall. He did the same with Harry's other hand, stopping him from reaching for his phone, and threw the web out to hit the opposite wall.

"Peter," Harry looked at Peter evenly, "Hey, come on babe, this isn't funny anymore."

Harry was strung up with his arms outstretched, standing frozen in front of Peter who was slowly approaching like an animal eyeing its prey. 

"Peter!" Harry yelled, "Mate, this isn't fucking funny! I'm sorry, okay? Jesus, mate. Just - hey! Hey!"

Peter grasped Harry around the neck with lightning reflexes, causing Harry to gasp in pain and try to break free, but was immobilized by the webs holding him there. 

"P-Peter," Harry whispered, "Please."

"Peter!"

And just like that, Peter snapped out of it. All his unlocked rage simmered to below the surface again as he saw you running through the doors followed by Felicia, who wasn't running and just looked bored. 

"Peter, stop!" you cried, sliding between Peter and Harry, quickly grasped Peter's extended fist and pulling it down, "Stop," you begged.

"Y/N," he whispered, "I - I ..."

"It's okay."

You were crying, and as Peter sniffled and looked down at you, he realized he was crying too. He shook a bit, reaching out to grasp your face in both his hands as you nodded, whispering, "It's okay. It's okay," over and over as Peter stared back at you with open eyes. 

For the first time in a long time, Peter was scared of himself. 

He used to be scared of himself when he was throwing himself recklessly into missions after Cindy's death. He hadn't liked who he was becoming, but he also hadn't fought it. He'd had that cavalier 'whatever happens happens' bullshit that teenagers harbored when things were falling apart but they refused to believe it. He'd been self-destructive but never pushed himself to the brink of destruction. 

But the rage he'd just unlocked ... that was something completely new. The last time he'd felt such rage like that was when you were hurt and dying, or when you'd been in danger of Kingpin. That had been rage so calculated and strong that it had sizzled off Peter's skin like the smoke off a freshly struck lightning target. 

But this rage was primal. This rage seemed to spiral and have no end, or no control. 

Felicia extended her claws and cut through Peter's webs, allowing Harry to fall to the ground with a thud. 

"As kinky as expected," she droned, turning to where you were cradling Peter's head to your neck and he was holding you tightly. He was still shaking, and you were shaking a bit too. The last 24 hours - even longer, if you were being honest - had taken so much from the both of you mentally and emotionally that you weren't surprised Peter had snapped upon seeing Harry again. But it had taken you a moment to recognize Peter's eyes when you'd first looked into them. The wildness behind them had been fierce and unapologetically cold. 

You shuddered just thinking about them. 

"Wow, you know, not really the reunion I was expecting having all of us together again," Harry grumbled jokingly as he pulled himself up into a chair, "But Peter did always have a thing for tearing my shirts."

Peter hadn't said a single thing since your arrival, and his hand gripped yours tightly as you glared at Harry.

"How could you stand there and act as though you haven't ruined everyone's lives in this room?" you asked softly, calmly.

"I mean, I'm fine," Felicia commented, "Harry's presence is either here nor there for me."

You and Peter glared at her. 

"I understand my shortcomings in the past," Harry nodded, "And I know I hurt you two, but that's ancient history! I mean, look at the happy couple! The two of you are completely fine now and I kind of feel like you should both be thanking me!"

"I'm sorry?" you snapped.

"Well, if it weren't for me breaking up with both of you, neither of you would be able to be with one another. You're welcome."

"We were never together." Peter's voice was gravelly and quiet, deep with hurt and it tore through his body as he spoke. But it gave him great justice to see that Harry for a moment looked hurt by Peter's statement. 

"You were just a guy I used to fuck." 

Peter knew it was a lie, but there were certain things that needed to be said if he was going to work on distancing himself from Harry, and this was one of them. Harry was speechless, having obviously not expected something so cavalier to tumble from Peter's lips, and you could see it impacted him more than Harry would ever care to admit. 

Peter wrapped his arm around your shoulders and started to lead you towards the door. Felicia followed the two of you to the elevator when you realized you'd forgotten the jacket you'd brought last minute. 

"I have to go back for my coat," you told Peter tiredly. He gripped your hand a bit tighter and shook his head, but you shrugged, "If I don't go and get it myself, then it'll give him an excuse to think he can show up later."

Peter seemed too emotionally drained to protest, so he relented and let go of your hand. "We'll wait for you here," he croaked, clicking the elevator button.

Harry was leaning back in one of the seats, part of his shirt pressed up against his beaten nose to stop the bleeding. You watched him closely and his eyes landed on you as you grabbed your coat. 

"Don't show up at my apartment again," you told him quietly, but sternly, "I washed my hands of you a long time ago, Harry."

"When you packed up all my shit to send me off?" Harry asked, "Yeah. I remember."

You put on your coat and shook your head, "You brought this on yourself."

Harry looked out the window for a moment and you wondered if he'd even heard you. Finally, he sucked in a breath and spoke, "A lot of people make a lot of accusations and opinions about you when you're rich and famous. And sometimes you think you like the idea of controlling your own narrative until it starts to control you - consume you. You and Peter are so ridiculously stupid if you think you can shield yourselves from the world or live without the consequences of this lifestyle."

"We're not stupid."

"No," Harry shook his head before his eyes met yours, "You're just fools."

Even though Peter and Harry had a much deeper connection than you'd ever shared with Harry, there had always been this raw connection straight to Harry's deepest insecurities that you'd tapped into early on. Harry crumbled around you without worrying, and though you'd "washed your hands of him" as you'd let him know, it would seem Harry hadn't completely washed his hands of you or how he acted around you.

"For what it's worth," Harry stood and adjusted the torn collar of his silk shirt, "I'm sorry you almost died a few years ago."

"Thanks."

"You were always my princess. I would have hated to live in a world without you."

"Don't call me that," you whispered. 

"Don't tell me you've tired of my pet name?" Harry scoffed.

"Listen to me, Harry," you stepped forward, eyes set in stone on his broken and beaten face, "I may have two bodyguards in Peter and Felicia, but I am in no way weak or incapable of defending myself. I will beat your ass if I need to, and I won't mind doing it either. It'll feel good to watch you break, and maybe finally realize how you made us all feel."

Harry looked a bit offended as he lazily brought a hand to his chest and slowly scoffed, "I'm hurt that you think I ever would have considered you weak, Y/N."

A devilish flame flashed through his eyes as he looked down at you and reached out to tug on a strand of your hair, "I mean, you are a princess, are you not? I've always known you'd be powerful. And now that you're finding out and finding yourself, I'm sure that power will surface over time."

Harry leaned in with his hands clasped behind his back as you stared at him in awe. "And I can't wait to see what that strength is going to unleash on all of us peasants ... princess."

He mock-bowed and you stumbled back, sick to your stomach. Harry had started calling you princess around a month into knowing you - when the two of you officially "started dating." He'd always said it as if it was your little secret, that by calling you "princess" it formed a bond between the two of you. 

Which meant that somehow, in some way, Harry had known. He'd known all along about your origins and the roots your father had planned in your DNA. He'd known. And he'd never told you. 

And the worst part was, you had a feeling he was right. You had no idea what powers fizzled below the surface having laid dormant for all these years. And you had no idea what they would do once they'd finally been set free. 

"How did you ...?" you fumbled over your words.

"Peter is a genius," Harry nodded, "But he has a team to help him solve his issues. When you're alone, you learn to solve them for yourself, and if you really care about someone - if you really love someone - you dig into their past as far back as you can to find out who they truly are before you let them in."

"That's not love, Harry."

"You're right. But it's part of it. It's also leverage," Harry nodded, "Something you'll find you'll need more of the longer you're in this industry."

"How could you not tell me?"

"It wasn't my place to tell. Besides, it was all theories and blood samples at the time anyway. Not it's final, right?"

"How could you know that?"

"Peter's smart in a lot of ways, princess. But I'm smarter in other ways too. You may find them helpful at some point, if you ever wisen up."

"You're the worst," you croaked.

Harry shrugged casually and looked tired as he sat back down in his seat, "I don't mind criticism. See you around, princess."

"Come along with me. See how much fun it can be. Watch me. Oh, baby that's a stupidity." - Solomon Burke

author's note: thank you all so much for your patience ! i had to rewrite a lot of this chapter because i didn't really like the flow or the way it was being structured, so it took a bit longer than usual to finish. i also am working two jobs lol so i mean, what is free time anymore, you know ?

anyway, thank you all so much for your constant support and i hope you enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to the next one !