Chapter Text
Peter knew that he should be grateful. He had disappeared into nothingness and had no reason to be back, but he was. Tony had saved him. The man had invented time travel to bring back the missing half of the population, and that included Peter. At first he was grateful to have more time with May and to get to grow up and all that, but once the initial shock wore off, the realities of life were catching up with him and he was beginning to question whether this had been a good thing after all.
He was trapped in this cycle of memories and trying to adjust to life in the future, but he couldn’t seem to move on. The snap had been excruciating. Nobody else he talked to seemed to remember anything, but Peter could remember the pain so clearly. He woke up at night covered in sweat, feeling like he was dissolving and his body was trying to knit itself back together at the same time. It was unbearable, but Peter never screamed. He didn’t want to wake Aunt May. She had been through enough. She had been left behind, Peter had disappeared and she’d had to mourn her last remaining relative. The guilt of it all was constantly gnawing at Peter and he couldn’t bear the idea of causing her any more pain. She had moved on and built a better life for herself after Peter, and he was determined to ensure that his return was a purely happy thing for her.
She was married. It had probably been the most shocking thing about coming back, to find out that there was another man in her life other than Ben. Peter knew it was selfish, he never wanted May to be alone, but part of him still felt like she was betraying Ben. They had sort of talked about it when he came back, but he still felt queasy every time he thought about it.
Peter’s life before the snap hadn’t been perfect, but it was good. Now his world was falling apart and he didn’t know what to do other than stand back and let it happen.
The aftermath of the battle was complete chaos. Everyone rushing to take care of Tony - the Wakandan’s, Bruce, Dr. Strange - they had all flocked to Tony’s side and Peter had reluctantly stepped out of the way, knowing that he needed to let them care for his mentor. He had heard the man’s heart stop after he snapped, and when Thor had shocked him to revive him, Peter’s own panic and the volume of the surrounding chaos had made it impossible for him to hear it start again. He knew it had, he’d seen the relief in Pepper’s face when she had felt a pulse and had heard her call out that he was alive. It was only a moment before Dr. Strange was levitating the man into the air, opening a portal, and disappearing into what Peter assumed was some state of the art hospital or something. Pepper and Bruce were close behind him and Peter wanted to follow them to make sure Tony was okay, but before he could move, Colonel Rhodes put an arm out to stop him.
“Let them take care of him kid. He’s going to be okay, he’s a fighter, but there is nothing you can do right now. Just go get cleaned up and go home. I will let you know if anything changes.” The man had patted him on the shoulder before rushing off to follow the others, the portal closing behind him. Peter didn’t know how they would contact him. They didn’t have his phone number or anything, but there hadn’t been a chance to say anything else to the man. For that matter, Peter didn’t know where his phone was. Come to think of it, he wasn’t completely sure where he was either. He had only been to the compound once before, and Happy had driven him so he hadn’t paid close attention. He knew he was pretty far from the city, but other than that, he was clueless.
Peter didn’t know how long he stood there, helplessly staring at the space that Tony had disappeared. It was Hawkeye who had eventually noticed that he seemed lost and had come over to help. Peter didn’t know the man, other than the brief meeting that they had in Germany, but he was too dazed to really be nervous.
Hawkeye was finishing a phone call himself when he got to Peter and he had tears streaming down his face. He hung up the phone and wiped his face, “My family was dusted, that was my wife. They’re back. Her and the kids. They’re at home and safe,” he explained. Peter understood. He knew what it was like to lose your family and he couldn’t imagine how overwhelming it would feel to have them back. The man offered his phone to Peter and he accepted it hesitantly. Peter didn’t know if Aunt May had been dusted or not but the only thing he could think to do was to call her and try. He was lucky that she and Ben had made him memorize their phone numbers when he was in elementary school, most of his friends wouldn’t have been able to make a call without the address book on their phones. His friends…he couldn’t think about them right now. May first. He dialed with shaking fingers. She picked up on the first ring, panic in her voice.
“Peter?!” her voice trembled and he could hear that she had been crying. He didn’t know how she knew it was him, but he guessed she had seen that people had reappeared and had been waiting to hear from him. “May,” Peter didn’t mean to cry but the moment he heard her voice, he broke down. Hawkeye had put an arm around him and, despite the fact that Peter’s only encounter with this man previously had been during a battle and they had been on opposing sides, he was so desperate for some sort of comfort that he found himself melting into the man's arms.
“Where are you?” May asked, after a few moments of them both sobbing into the phone wordlessly.
“I’m at the compound I think, or at least what used to be the compound,” Peter said, looking up to Hawkeye for confirmation. Hawkeye nodded, glancing around at the wreckage with a grim look on his face.
“I don’t know how to get there,” May said, the hysterical tone returning to her voice. “The roads are a mess too. I need to see you, but I can’t get there,” She was quickly descending into panic, her sobs resuming. In the background, Peter could swear he heard a man’s voice comforting her, but he didn’t have the brainpower to contemplate that right now.
Hawkeye had gently pried the phone from his hand. “Ma’am,” he had begun, talking to Aunt May, “My name’s Clint, I am a friend of the spider kid,” Peter looked up at the man questioningly, partially because he hadn’t known his name was Clint, and partially in shock that the man was claiming him as a ‘friend’ after the airport. “Can you let me know your address? I think it would be easiest, and safest, for me to bring Peter to you.” May must have been answering him because the man was nodding. “Okay, that’s great. It may take us a while to get to you, but I am going to bring him straight there.”
Hawkeye—or Clint, since that was his real name—handed the phone back to Peter.
“I love you, Peter, I will see you soon. I love you so much.” May was sobbing again through the phone, and Peter’s tears had subsided from his initial sobs, but they threatened to start again with a vengeance. He wanted to feel embarrassed but remembered the tears streaming down Clint’s face as he had spoken to his family and reasoned that if Hawkeye could cry, then so could Peter.
“I love you too, May. I’ll see you soon.” Peter choked out, and then he ended the call. He took a few deep breathes to compose himself and turned back to Hawkeye.
“You don’t have to take me,” Peter offered, “I can find my way there myself.”
The man’s face broke into a half-smile as Peter spoke. “If you think I am going to leave an exhausted super-kid to wander the streets of New York in the middle of this chaos, after everything you’ve just been through, then you must not think very highly of me.”
“But your family,” Peter tried to persuade him, “I’m sure they want to see you and you should get to them as soon as you can. You said that you have kids, they deserve to see you.”
“I have kids,” Clint said firmly. “I know what I would want someone else to do for them. I don't care if you are a superhero or what, you're someone's kid. I am taking you home and that’s final.”
Peter nodded, giving up on trying to convince the man otherwise. And really he was grateful for the offer, he wasn’t sure if he could have made it on his own at this point despite what he had just said. Now that he had stopped moving and the adrenaline of the battle was wearing off, the sharp pains were returning to his body. For a moment, he was flashing back to Titan, to the dusting and the excruciating pain of disintegrating into nothingness. His body responded to the memory and he felt his knees give out, crumbling to the ground. He would have collapsed completely, but Clint had a firm grip on his elbow and helped keep him upright.
“Whoa, kid. Easy there. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? I should have asked that first.”
Peter was starting to regain his composure and struggled to make his way back to his feet, with Clint’s help.
“I’m fine,” he offered, though his head was still swimming and Peter realized it probably had something to do with the fact that his last meal had been breakfast before he left on the field trip. With his metabolism, he needed to eat more than the average person and after the multiple battles they had in the past few hours, his body was shutting down on him.
Clint looked at him skeptically. “Are you sure? You need to tell me if you’re hurt.” His voice was stern but not uncaring. Peter realized that it was a dad's voice. He hadn’t had anyone speak to him in that tone since Ben, and his heart ached all over again.
Something about that familiarity and concern in the man's voice was prompting him to be a bit more honest. “I’m not physically hurt really, just achy. The dusting, it was excruciating and I am still sore from it. And,” Peter paused, not wanting to be a burden and not sure what he should say. Clint sensed his hesitation and nodded at him to continue, “I have a pretty fast metabolism, I haven’t eaten since this morning. Or the morning that this all started I guess. What day is it?” Peter realized he wasn’t sure how long they had been in space or been dusted. It felt like it had just been a second, and he was still in pain from the dusting so it couldn’t have been that long.
The color seemed to drain from Clint’s face at Peter’s question. “It’s, uhh…” he started to stutter but stopped himself. It made Peter uneasy, he didn’t seem like the type of man to hesitate, though Peter didn’t know him very well so he supposed he didn’t really have any grounds to panic yet.
“It’s been five years.” Clint finally sighed and answered the question quietly.
Peter felt his heart stop all over again. It had been five years. He had been gone for five years. It had been a moment in his life and five years in everyone else’s. What would that mean for him? How old was he then? What had happened to May? To everyone else? To his friends? If they hadn’t been dusted they would be so much older then him. In college he guessed. He felt like he couldn’t breath.
Clint moved directly in front of him, putting a hand on each shoulder and looking him straight in the eye. “Just breathe kid. Don’t try and think about all that right now, just breath.” Peter followed his instructions. The man was taking deep, exaggerated breaths and Peter mimicked him, trying to calm himself down and just let his thoughts focus on the present. He couldn’t handle anything else, so he was just going to breath.
Once he had his breathing under control, Clint had released his shoulders. “You good now?’ He asked.
“Yeah,” Peter responded. He wasn’t totally sure that was true, but then again he wasn’t sure that ‘good’ was even possible right now so he supposed he was as good as he was going to get.
Clint nodded in acceptance, seeming to understand what Peter was getting. “Let’s find something for you to eat, and maybe a change of clothes, and then we will get you back to your mom. It may not be right now, but things will be okay. They’ll get better.” He comforted.
They made their way through the rubble, back to where the compound was still partially standing. Making their way up a set of crumbling stairs, Peter was amazed how intact this side of the compound really was. It was built by Tony, he supposed, and anything that Tony built was bound to be able to endure a few wars.
Tony.
Peter paused at the top of the stairs and let a wave of guilt wash over him. He had put his worry about Tony to the side in the midst of trying to find Aunt May and learning about being gone for five years. Clint noticed his hesitation and correctly guessed at his cause. “He’ll be fine.” Clint placated. “He has the best team of doctors. Helen can do anything.” Peter didn’t know who Helen was, but Clint seemed confident so he accepted the man’s comfort and followed him through the hallways and into what looked like a bedroom.
Peter stood in the doorway while Clint dug around in a chest of drawers, pulling out two sets of sweatpants and two t-shirts. He also disappeared into the closet coming back out a moment later with a pair of flip flops that looked like they were at least two sizes too big for Peter.
“These will probably be a bit big for you, but it’ll be better than the suit.” He gestured toward Peter’s suit. Peter realized he was still wearing the armor that Tony had made for him. He pressed the spider at the center of his chest, hoping it worked the same way that his other suit did, and the nanotech began to crawl across him and into itself. Next thing he knew he was standing in his other suit. He had forgotten that was what he was wearing when Tony had called the suit to him. Clint smirked, seeing that Peter was wearing two suits.
“You really seem committed to the Spider thing, and very prepared. Not even Tony wears two suits.” He teased.
Peter couldn’t help the small smile that quirked across his own face. “It’s a long story.” He offered. “I was wearing the one and Tony somehow summoned the other one to me.” Clint nodded at his explanation, the smile not leaving his face.
Peter hit the spider in the center of his original suit and let it fall away as well. He accepted the clothes from Clint and put them on, seeing that the other man took the opportunity to change clothes as well. It was amazing how much more alive he felt getting out of the suffocating suits and shedding off some of the layers of dust.
Clint moved over to the bed and rummaged through a side table as well, pulling out a box of granola bars, a bag, and a set of car keys.
He pulled a bar out for himself and tossed the box of granola bars to Peter. Peter caught it easily and Clint seemed impressed. Peter smirked, “spider reflexes,” he offered in the way of an explanation, and Clint nodded. “Figures,” the man muttered. He tossed the bag to Peter next, and when Peter gave him a questioning gaze Clint explained, “put your suit in it and stuff, you can’t just carry it around.”
He led Peter out of the room and they made there way back outside and toward one of the surrounding buildings that looked like a garage. Peter expected to see a car, but instead, it was a hanger. Peter stopped in his tracks, eyeing the varying sizes of planes. “Those are planes,” Peter said, still shocked.
“Observant,” Clint teased, “nothing gets by you.”
“I assumed we’d drive,” Peter tried to explain.
“Roads will be a mess, this is the best way.” He replied and walked over to the smallest jet in the hanger.
Peter was still frozen in the doorway and Clint turned around. “Come on kid, let's go," he said and then frowned slightly. “Hey, what’s your name? I should have asked before, I can’t go around calling you Spider-man or kid all the time.”
Peter had started walking toward the jet but paused again at the question. His identity was a secret. The man had obviously seen his face, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to give up his identity. He was hesitant to offer that piece of himself.
“If it’s the whole ‘secret identity’ thing,” Clint started, “I promise that I am good with secrets. It’s part of the whole spy gig.”
Peter figured he was trustworthy and the man was helping him, a lot honestly, even though he could have rushed off immediately to his family.
He started moving again and came up the side of the jet, walking up along Clint. “Peter.” He said quietly. “It’s Peter. Peter Parker.”
Clint nodded, “Nice to formally meet you, Peter. Now let’s get you home.”
They boarded the jet and Clint helped buckle Peter into the confusing straps. The next thing he knew they were in the sky, flying faster than Peter had ever gone. He tried to look down out the window and see what was below them, but they were moving too fast for Peter to get a clear picture of where they were.
Before he knew it, they were landing on the roof of an unfamiliar apartment building. Peter climbed out of the jet after Clint released his straps and looked around confused.
“This isn’t my apartment building, I live in Queens,” Peter muttered, confusedly looking around at the unfamiliar roof and neighborhood. He had spent a lot of time on his roof as Spiderman and he could pick it out from a distance.
Clint looked uncomfortable, “It’s the address your mom gave me. She must have moved at some point.” Peter almost choked hearing Clint say his ‘mom.’ He guessed it wasn’t fair, the man had no way to know that May was his aunt. It was logical to assume she was his mom.
“My mom’s dead,” he said emotionlessly, too drained from the past day, of years he guessed, to really care. “She’s my aunt.”
Clint looked stricken. “Sorry, I didn’t know.” He said softly.
“Not your fault,” Peter replied, shrugging. He turned his back on Clint and made his way toward the staircase that would take him down into the building. He heard the gravel crunching behind him, meaning Clint was following him. He tugged on the door, grateful it was unlocked, and started to make his way into the staircase before turning to Clint.
“What’s the apartment number?” He asked, realizing that he didn’t know.
“5112,” Clint offered. Peter nodded and made his way down the stairs to the fifth floor, opening the heavy fire door to walk down the hallway, still hearing Clint’s footfalls behind him. He read the numbers on the doors as he walked down the hall.
5104, 5106, 5108, 5110, there it was. 5112. He hesitated a moment at the door, not sure he was ready to face the reality of everything, despite his desire to see May.
Clint was behind him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. Peter took a deep breath, lifted his arm, and rapped his knuckles against the door. The door flew open and Peter was immediately met with May’s tear-stained face.
They made meaningful eye contact for a second, and then the calm was broken and May launched herself at Peter and wrapped him in a suffocating hug, sobbing hysterically into his shoulder and muttering incomprehensibly. He returned he hug somewhat hesitantly, surprising himself. He had expected to start sobbing as well, but his eyes were dry. He was happy to see May but he felt numb. Clint had moved around to the side to give them space and he met the man’s eyes over his aunt's shoulder. He was looking at Peter assessingly, seeming to notice Peter’s lack of emotion and trying to determine the cause. He tilted his head to the side, his gaze was piercing through Peter, but Peter didn’t have anything to respond with. He met the man’s gaze with his own blank stare. Clint seemed concerned but didn’t say anything. Finally, May released Peter and stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his forehead.
Peter pasted a smile on his face, looking May in the eyes and trying to force some sort of false emotion to shine through his numbness. There was movement over May’s shoulder and he looked up. Standing behind May in the doorway was a man that Peter didn’t recognize.
The man smiled at him and Peter felt his spider-sense tingle and he shuddered involuntarily, something that did not go unnoticed by Clint.
“Hi, Pete. It’s good to meet you. I’m Matt, May’s husband.” The man said, with an almost predatory smile on his face.
Peter stiffened, and May looked at him sheepishly, seeming to sense that this wasn’t the best way for Peter to hear this information.
May pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry Peter,” she said, a blush creeping up her face. “I’ll explain everything I promise. Nothing has changed with you, I promise. You are still my kid, I still love you the same, there is just someone else to share that all with now.”
Peter nodded numbly, not able to even process this change.
May turned to Clint, Peter had forgotten the man was here in the shock of meeting Matt. “Thank you so much for bringing him home. Really, I can’t ever repay you for bringing him back to me.” Clint blushed at her praise and brushed it off. “It was no problem. He’s a good kid.” Clint offered.
“Would you like to come in, have some coffee? Tea? Water? Something to eat?” May offered.
“I appreciate the offer, but I really have to get going,” Clint politely declined.
“Of course,” May said. “Thanks again.” Clint nodded and May put her arm around Peter to pull him into the apartment, Matt had moved out of the doorway to let them in.
“Hold on,” Peter said, shrugging out of her hold. He turned to Clint, “Thanks. Really, for everything.” He offered, not really having words, but hoping he could convey his point.
Clint reached out an arm and gave his shoulder a squeeze, the movement was becoming so familiar to Peter after just a few hours and he was surprised as to how much comfort it brought him. “Don’t worry about it kid. I am happy to help. If you ever need anything, please reach out. I mean it, anything. You’re a good kid, and you shouldn’t have had to go through all this so young. I’m serious, anything at all, even if you just want to talk, give me a call.” Clint said seriously, looking searchingly into Peter’s eyes and trying to communicate his sincerity. Peter was always reluctant to accept help, but something about the man’s demeanor made him nod in agreement. Clint released his shoulder, seemingly happy with whatever he had seen in Peter’s eyes and with his nod of acceptance.
Clint reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, pushing it into Peter's hand. Peter had no idea where the paper came from, looking down and realizing there was a phone number on it. Clint must have written it at the compound or something and Peter had been too distracted to notice.
“Thanks,” Peter choked out, feeling the tears return to his eyes. He couldn’t explain why reuniting with May hadn’t made him cry, but this act of kindness from another hero was about to break him.
Clint nodded, gave him a final squeeze on his shoulder, and Peter leaned into the touch one more time, something that again did not go unnoticed by Clint, who gave a smile, and then turned and made his way back down the hall. Peter stared at his back, watching until the man disappeared into the staircase before turning back around to face May and letting her pull him into the apartment and into this unknown new life.