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Peter had his hood up, sunglasses on, and headphones screaming music he could not even understand the words to playing in his ears as he stood outside of Stark Tower, or the Avengers Tower now, he supposed.
The hood and sunglasses were to hide as much as he could from the world around him. He did not want to see windows as he walked here from the other side of the city. He did not want to see himself. He did not want anyone else to see him either. And seriously, how likely was it that he was going to write ‘Avenger’s Tower’ on a slip of paper for a cabbie? Weird much?
And the music? Well, if he wasn’t able to speak, what difference did it make if he could hear? He was doing himself a favor damaging his ear drums.
In all honesty, he hoped this visit would make him die of shame before he even had to leave. Maybe he would keel over before he had to tell them what had happened if he was lucky. Then again luck didn’t seem to be on his side lately.
Pushing back the hood and removing the sunglasses Peter gathered what he could of his courage, and walked into the building. He walked straight up to the receptionist’s desk before taking off the headphones. She looked up at him, a sweet smile on her face as she asked him if he had an appointment.
Peter shook his head and pulled out a small notepad from his pocket before pointing to the pens on her desk, making a writing motion as he did so. Evidently she got the hint and handed him a pen, waiting patiently as he scrawled out a note. Once he turned the notebook around for her, she read it over, and looked at him confused.
“Tell the Avengers ‘the kid’ needs them?” she read aloud, not sure she understood the message. Peter nodded and scrawled another message. “It’s urgent,” she read again.
With a shrug she picked up the phone and dialed a number Peter did not care about. A voice answered on the other end of the phone, and it sounded impatient. “There’s someone here,” she explained, as calmly as she could with her irritated boss on the other end of the phone. “He wants me to tell the Avengers the kid needs them and it’s urgent.”
Peter heard what sounded like “Shit” on the other end of the phone, then rapid talking he could not make out. When the receptionist hung up the phone she smiled at him and nodded towards a chair for him to wait. “It will only be a few moments,” she told him reassuringly.
Nodding, Peter moved over to sit in the chair, burying his face in his hands while he waited for a whole new hell to descend upon him. It had been a terrible few days since… well, that did not bear thinking about. Not right now, not when he might have to recount it in a few moments, in writing.
Aunt May had insisted he not go back to school for the last few days, calling the principal and telling whoever else needed to know that he was terribly sick and was going to be out for a while. Still, though, sometimes she forgot he had no voice. He would hear her yell at him up the stairs that he had a phone call before catching herself and telling whoever was there that he was too sick to talk. Or she would ask him about what had happened exactly, before blushing and covering her mouth in embarrassment, tears building in her eyes. He did not blame her, not really, but the pain that shot through him during those moments he thought might be worse than what had actually happened. Then again, maybe not.
As far as school was concerned, Peter was not going back until this was all behind him, or at least until he had his voice back. He was still going to be a social outcast, so what difference did it make if he had been raped in the mean time?
Trying to groan in frustration, Peter let out a huff of air, which did not help to improve his mood. Pulling his hood up Peter put his headphones back on. The loud music did more than help to make him deaf, it stalled his thoughts, made it difficult to think, and right now, thinking was the enemy.
Upstairs Tony Stark stared at the phone he had just hung up. The receptionist called him and not Pepper, she had said the kid, which is what he called Parker… something must have happened. Normally Peter would have just called if Spider-Man needed back up, why was he coming to the tower? Turning around Tony saw Bruce standing in the doorway, his lab coat on, staring at Tony.
“What was that about?” he asked, concern on his face.
“How much did you hear?”
“’Shit’ and ‘We’ll be right there’” Bruce recited, “and while you do normally enjoy using expletives you do not normally answer your receptionist’s beck and call.”
“It’s Parker.”
“Peter?” Bruce asked, concern entering his voice.
Tony nodded. “I don’t get it though, why didn’t he call? Why come all the way here?”
“Let’s get the others and find out.”
A tap on his shoulder had Peter jumping out of his seat, eyes darting around wildly until he realized it was the team of people he had come here to see. With a sigh he lowered his arms from their defensive position and looked at them all.
They all looked at him inquisitively, not sure what his violent reaction meant. None of them commented on it, however, assuming that perhaps that was why he was here.
“What can we do for you, Peter?” Steve asked him, though all Peter could do was try to read his lips. Slipping off his headphones Peter pointed to the ceiling, hoping they would understand the idea he was trying to get across.
Steve blinked, but Tony raised an eyebrow. “You want to take this upstairs? Just spit it out kid and we can all go to kicking enemy ass before dinner,” he demanded.
Steve shot Tony a look that clearly said ‘watch the language’ before he looked back at Peter. “If you want to go upstairs Peter that’s fine, we can go upstairs.”
Nodding Peter followed them to the elevator as they walked ahead.
Bruce, however, hung back to walk beside the teenager. The others, while concerned for the boy, clearly did not understand what his reaction to being touched meant. It was a major concern if Peter was suddenly uncomfortable being touched, when he never had been before. At least Bruce had never noticed a reaction that serious before. Plus, the kid usually refused to stop talking, why just point for what he wanted?
“Peter,” Bruce started, keeping his voice calm, trying to ensure the boy not react like before. When Peter turned to look at him, his face was pained. Blinking, Bruce continued, “Can you tell me what happened?”
His face dropped. Peter looked away, towards his feet, and his hands began to fidget at his sides. What was this?
Bruce prided himself on being intelligent, and being able to read people, otherwise he would never be able to control his anger, but this... This was familiar, but he could not place it. He did have one thing figured out though, Peter had no voice. For one reason or another, Peter could not speak, or else he would be. Bruce was sure of that. He was also sure that this had to be why Peter was here.
“Peter, if you could just explain somehow what's wrong,” he cajoled, starting to reach out to him. Peter flinched away, his eyes shockingly wide again as he stared at Bruce.
Bruce stopped as Peter did, watching Peter mutter to himself. He had not meant to imply the boy use his voice, though thinking back over his words he could see how they could be misinterpreted.
“Peter...?”
Looking up, Peter shook his head. It looked as though he was trying to say, this was a mistake... He turned as if ready to bolt, and Bruce had to act quickly. Reaching out, he grabbed Peter's wrist, but the boy jerked away. He turned, and Bruce did not know what else to do. “JARVIS!! Lockdown! Do not let Peter leave!”
“As you wish, Master Bruce,” came the mechanical, disembodied voice.
Peter looked at Bruce as if he had been betrayed, and Bruce returned an apologetic frown. From behind him Bruce heard footsteps and then Steve passed him, walking towards Peter. Tony stopped at his side. “What is going on Bruce?”
“Something is very wrong with Peter...” he answered, trying not to make a huge scene in the lobby. As soon as Bruce saw Steve try to speak with Peter, he knew he had to intervene before the boy shut down further.
“Peter, what is it? We want to help, you can talk to us. To me, or Bruce.” When he got no answer, Steve tried a different approach. Bringing out his best authoritative voice, Steve informed him sternly, “Even if you refuse to talk to me right now, Peter, it won't matter. We will figure out what is happeni-”
Before he could finish his sentence Bruce was standing between Peter and Steve, facing the blonde haired man. “Steve, do you think we could take this upstairs?” he asked, wanting to save Peter from continuing to have his inability to speak thrown in his face. Obviously, it was taking its toll, as Peter glared at Steve, knowing where that train of thought had been going even if Steve had never finished his sentence. Taking a deep breath, Peter stormed past Steve and Bruce, past Tony, and towards the elevator, his head held high even as his eyes filled with tears.
As the five of them watched Peter huddled into a corner once the elevator opened for them, they came to a consensus: something serious had happened to their friend. Only Bruce seemed to understand just how deep this problem seemed to go.
Peter tried to push himself against the wall of the elevator, wanting to be as far from any possible contact as he could be before they tried to touch him again. This had been so stupid. He could live without his voice, couldn't he? Wouldn't that be easier than this? So he'd learn sign language... He wouldn't be able to offer another quip in public, only in his head, but he also would not give away his position anymore. Maybe he could even train his body to be silent, like a ninja, and never make noise again. Sneak up on everyone.
Exhaling, Peter wanted to groan. He wanted to know he could express himself vocally again. But there had to be another way. This was a mistake. And now he was trapped in an elevator with the group of people he did not want to know about what had brought this on. He was even unable to tell JARVIS he had changed his mind now.
The trip ended quickly, and Peter was unsure if he was relieved by that fact or if he regretted it. He let everyone else pile out before following them slowly into the large pent house on the top floor of the building. They settled in the living area, sitting on the couches and chairs, leaving Peter with no choice but to stand. Though, not all of them sat. Peter realized that Bruce was standing near him, not touching distance, but close enough to offer strength, comfort? Peter was unsure, but the feeling of protectiveness he was picking up from the man did soothe his frayed nerves somewhat.
“Peter, what is going on?” That was Tony Stark, and Peter looked at him, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in headlights. So much for feeling better.
Before Peter could even think of a response, let alone pull out his notebook to write it all down, a different voice spoke for him. “Peter has lost his voice. If he wants to tell us how that is up to him, but he came here for a reason. Let him explain it in his own way, in his own time,” Bruce explained, his voice stern. Peter looked at Bruce gratefully, feeling less angry that he had cut off his escape.
Someone cleared their throat and Peter looked back over at the others. He had to do this. Pulling out his notebook, Peter began writing. He was unsure until he began what he would write, but the longer he wrote, the shakier his hand got, and suddenly he could not even see the page. Blinking, Peter realized he had started to cry. Even knowing he had written half-truths, Peter felt the tears slide down his face. Then a silent sob broke through his lips, and he dropped the notebook. Nothing had prepared him for this moment. Absolutely nothing.
He respected these people, looked up to them as role-models, and even though they did not return the favor, Peter had no idea how to tell them he was so damn messed up now. They had already determined on their own he should not be out fighting evil, but this... they would force him to hang up his suit, give up on the one thing he could give the world. The words on the paper did not even come close to covering the extent of his hell that night, and it was still enough to ruin everything.
“Peter,” a voice broke through his thoughts, calm, collected, concerned. Looking up Peter saw Steven Rogers, Captain America, standing before him. He was holding the notebook. Peter had no idea when had he picked it up or how he had gotten it, but it hardly mattered now. They knew…
Bruce cleared his throat, and only then did Peter realize the man had moved to stand next to him at some point. “I think there’s more to it than that,” the scientist said, just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
They all took a moment to process what was said, even if not all of them had read it. As far as Peter could tell, only the man standing next to him and the one standing before him had seen what was on that page. He hoped anyway.
“Peter, is that true?” Steve asked, his eyes betraying his mixed emotions.
An arm rested across Peter’s shoulders and the small comfort was appreciated, even if the touch made him jump at first. That small action did not go unnoticed, and Natasha was soon standing beside Steve, her eyes studying Peter’s body, while her male counterpart stood behind her, just as searching.
“What did he write?” she asked Steve, her eyes never leaving the boy in front of her.
The man read his words aloud, “’Loki attacked me and stole my voice. I…’ I think it says ‘I did my best’ but it’s hard to read here, and then the handwriting gets really bad.”
“’I did my best to fight him off,’” Bruce quoted. He turned to face Peter, his face soft, trying to convey comfort the way his touch had. “I believe everything you wrote Peter, but the way you acted when you wrote it tells me there’s more.”
“I’ve never claimed to be great with people, but even I can tell you’re holding something back, kid. You have never leapt in to such a defensive stance at being touched nonthreateningly,” Tony said from the couch, where he had been watching everything in silence so far. It distantly surprised Peter the man had managed to be quiet for so long.
Peter’s heart sank, he stared at the floor. He did not want to do this, had never wanted to have to do this. Before he had to express anything, however, Natasha spoke clearly, in her typical nonchalant way. “Peter was raped.”
At those words Steve’s eyes turned painfully soft, the arm around his shoulders tightened just slightly, and Bruce whispered, “That is what I was afraid of.”
Pulling away from Bruce, Peter stepped back from all of them. He wanted to glare at Natasha for giving it away, but he knew he would have had to explain it all to them himself somehow if he wanted to get any help. There was no more energy for anger anyway, Peter found, as his arms subconsciously wrapped themselves around each other and he kept backing up until he hit a wall. Once he had the support on his back, Peter slunk down until he was sitting on the floor, the emotions running rampant in him, even dulled as they were.
Unaware of what was happening around him Peter did not know that Steve Rogers began to move towards him, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder, a hand belonging to Clint Barton. He did not know that Bruce and Tony watched him sadly or that Natasha suppressed her own caustic memories upon seeing his pain. He did not know that all of their hearts broke for him. All Peter knew was that the world was crashing down around him, and now that the Avengers knew he would never be able to be Spider-Man again, or help New York in his own unique way, or any of the things he had been so determined and happy to do less than a week ago.
For a few moments, no one moved, then Tony spoke, “Jarv, call Thor.”
That seemed to break the spell on everyone except Peter, and they decided to give him his space for now. Anything they felt the need to say to him could wait until later.
“Calling him now, sir” JARVIS responded, while the others moved back to the couches to converse with the God of Thunder about how his brother escaped and started attacking people that had nothing to do with his previous failure.
Although it had been a debate between them all to give Thor a cell phone as the god did not seem to know how to use one, the man answered on the third ring. “Hello my shield brothers,” the voice boomed over the line, filling the room.
“Thor,” Steve started, taking charge as was his nature, “we need you to return to New York.”
“Has something happened?” The concern in the question was genuine.
“Loki attacked Peter,” Steve explained, before Tony added “Attacked is an understatement.”
“Peter?” Thor asked, and if he had been standing in front of them his confusion could not have been more obvious.
“You know, the kid that shows up once in a while? Fought the green ogre guy?”
“Green Goblin, Tony,” Bruce corrected. “You know him Thor, Spider-Man?”
“Ah, the child that wears red and blue?”
Bruce looked over his shoulder, seeing Peter appear to shrink even further in to himself at those words.
“Yes,” Steve told him.
“Though I would hardly call him a child anymore,” Clint interjected.
Peter looked up at those words, and Bruce allowed a small smile to grace his lips when Peter’s eyes locked with his. Bruce nodded to express he agreed with Clint, and Peter seemed to relax ever so slightly.
“You say Loki has attacked him?” Thor asked, concerned again. “What has my brother done?”
Natasha spoke next, her voice softer than usual. “Perhaps this would be best done in person.”
“Is our young friend very hurt?”
“It would be best for you to see for yourself Thor,” Steve told him, “please come soon.”
“I shall hurry.”
With that the line went dead.
It felt as if days passed before Thor arrived, though Peter knew it had only been a few hours. In that time he had been able to think about what had happened during that phone call and everything that had led up to it.
The Avenger’s had insinuated that he was a man now, but did that mean he was capable of continuing his fight against evil in the world? Somehow he doubted it, but Peter realized something was different in himself. He felt something he had not felt since the night Loki appeared in his house, and even if he could not define what it was, he knew what it meant. He would do what he had always done with or without their blessing.
Bruce sat waiting with the others while they gave Peter space. They had been talking amongst themselves for a few hours now. At first they had not been able to agree whether or not they should allow Peter to continue being Spider-Man, if the consequences were going to be this bad. Clint mentioned that Peter was strong, however, as he had survived and had come to them, which he clearly had not wanted to do.
Bruce was with Clint, stating that if Peter had given up or faded away none of them really would have noticed until they were fighting his enemies, and even then would they have gone to see if he was alright? But Peter had defied Loki, and what had happened to him by coming to them, by not giving up and by asking for help.
Even Tony admitted that asking for help when he knew what he would have to explain was enough to let him keep doing what he did in his book. Besides, Tony had seen his share of torture and it had only made him want to fight the bad guys more, and he doubted Peter would be any different.
Steve and Natasha were hesitant. Steve disagreed with them because he did not want to see Peter get hurt, which had been his standpoint from the beginning. Natasha did not want to have to clean up his messes, though everyone could tell she was concerned about his safety even if she would never say it out right.
Eventually, however, they all came to the consensus that if Peter could survive this, he had the right to do what he wanted to, which was what they told Thor when they debriefed him upon his arrival.
Bruce listened as they talked. He watched as Thor’s face went from curious, to concerned, to furious. He waited out their discussions of what to do and how to handle the situation. Once they had a plan forming, Bruce excused himself from their discussion. Peter had had a long and taxing day, and the boy deserved to rest for a while before anything else was done.
Peter was wound as tight as a string, Bruce noticed the instant he laid eyes on the boy. He was still huddled in to his corner, as if he had not moved since they had left him to have his space, and perhaps he hadn’t.
Knowing he had to take this slowly, Bruce crouched down a few feet away from Peter, not moving too quickly. The way he was right now, Peter could be as easily spooked as a wild rabbit, so Bruce made sure his voice was soft when he called out his name.
“Peter.”
Peter’s head jerked up, his body tense, his eyes unseeing for just a moment before they came back in to focus, finally acknowledging Bruce with a small nod. What had he been thinking about just now? Bruce wondered, but knew he would not want the answer. Instead, Bruce kept his voice low and continued to speak.
“You’ve had a long day, Peter, why don’t you rest for a while before we figure out where to go from here?”
The small nod did nothing to disguise the fact that Peter seemed to be deep in thought, or to be remembering something horrible. Perhaps even the horrible thing that had brought him here today. Once he was sitting on the couch, Peter seemed to wind even tighter in to himself, and Bruce caught a look in his eye that seemed to demand he say something. Without a second’s hesitation Bruce grabbed the notebook Peter had brought with him off of the coffee table Steve had set it on and handed it over to him. Peter took it and the pen offered and immediately scrawled out a note, turning it the instant he was finished for Bruce to read.
“I’m going to be Spider-Man no matter what you say,” he read. Bruce grinned at Peter, and the boys look went from tense and defiant to confused.
“We want you to be Spider-Man for as long as you want to be him, Peter,” he explained. “You deserve to be.”
Bruce watched as Peter’s eyes went wide is shock, and then as the words sunk in, he smiled, and Bruce could see the tension drain from the boy’s shoulders. Hopefully Peter understood now that they were his friends, despite what types of first impressions they had left on him.
For the first time since he entered the building Peter seemed to relax slightly, and his small smile when he nodded and shut his eyes, made Bruce’s heart soar in hope.
It took only a moment for Peter to drift off to sleep, and Bruce returned to his teammates. They all kept themselves busy talking, planning, and Natasha prepped tea for when Peter stirred so he would have a steaming cup to soothe any frayed nerves that remained.
By the time he woke an hour or so later, they knew what they were going to do, and Peter took the proffered mug gratefully while they spoke to him.
“Peter,” Steve started, keeping his voice level and calm, “we want you to go with Thor to Asgard. He will help you find a mage to undo Loki’s curse. We will hunt down Loki himself and ensure he pays for what he has done.”
“After all of this is settled we want you to become an Avenger with us,” Tony added next.
“Fury needs to make that decision, Tony,” Steve scolded.
“Forget Fury,” Clint cut in, denouncing the Director of SHIELD easier than anyone expected. “He’ll accept it or he’ll get over it.”
Tony nodded, and continued. “We’ll work out the details later.”
“For once I agree with Tony,” Steve said. “You came to us for help, so we’re going to help you.”
Peter nodded, unable to hide his relief. He had hope for the first time in too long.