**Sorry for the delay, I got swamped with work and school (It's finals week) and then I realized I had a huge plot hole in my planning, so I took a couple days to make it work again. Hope you enjoy!**

Peter swung through the city, his reflexes in tip top shape. He'd actually gotten a decent night's sleep last night. Sure, the couch wasn't as comfy as his bed, but hands in his hair, and another person breathing there, lulled him into a deep, dreamless sleep. No nightmares could wake him that night, he just slept.

He let out a little whoop as he swung past the buildings, doing a flip as he let go of his web.

People down below watched with amused eyes, smiling at the clearly young hero. It was no secret he was a kid, the whole of New York City had figured that out as soon as he started throwing around memes and jokes and 'sir's and 'ma'am's in fights. There was something sweet about him being a kid, though. Something like genuine kindness and a want to do good for other people.

"Peter," Karen, the AI Tony had made for the teen, came to life, speaking through the little bluetooth piece in his ear. "You're kind of close to Columbia University. Would you like to do a check of the campus while you are patrolling?"

Peter had never been up to the university, but he knew what college was like. At the very least, he could walk a couple drunk kids to the medical center, and if he was being honest, he wanted to see the campus. Even though he was only a sophomore, he knew he wanted to stay around New York City, so seeing the campus couldn't hurt.

He swung towards the school, interested in seeing the labs and such. It was a huge campus, with beautiful landscaping and even more beautiful architecture. The library was almost Greek-like, with stone pillars and sloping, gentle roofs. Peter landed on the top of a lecture hall across from the library, enjoying the view. There was no better way to see things than from the point of view of the hero, on top of the world.

His eyes flicked around the grounds, settling, finally, on someone he hadn't seen in years.

Quickly stripping out of his suit, Peter crawled down the backside of the lab, sneaking around the side of the building, and making a beeline for the mass of students coming from the lecture hall.

When he finally pushed through the crowd, he looked around again, spotting his friend easily.

"Harry!"

The boy turned, his short, dark hair blowing up in the breeze for a moment.

"Peter?"

The two shook hands, each one exchanging 'it's been a while' and 'how have you been' and hugging. "What are you doing here?" Peter asked.

"My dad is giving a presentation at the lab here, he brought me along for the day. What are you doing here?"

Peter's mind raced for a moment, but he latched on to a quick lie. Old habits die hard, and if there was one habit spies kept, it was quick lying. "I was checking out the campus, I heard they have a very strong tech department."

"You've always loved science, even when we were too little to understand any of it!" Harry laughed. He and Peter had met in kindergarten, both of them running to the legos during play time. They had been good friends for a while, but Harry was sent to private school in 6th grade, and they lost contact after that. It wasn't entirely Harry's fault, Peter had started training around that same time. Fury kept Peter busy those first few years, too busy to have friends.

"We should catch up sometime," Peter said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "I always wondered what happened to you!"

Harry brought out his phone, unlocked it, and opened up his contacts list. "Here."

Peter took the phone and punched in his number, filling out his name and all that, too. He sent himself a text, then pulled out his own phone to save Harry's number.

"Got it. Let's get coffee or something."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Norman watched from a lecture hall from across the square from where his son and Peter Parker were talking. He hadn't seen that boy in years, nearly 6 years. He'd always known there might have been something off with Peter, especially when he would slip a Russian word into his sentences, or get toys stuck to his hands during play dates.

"Hmm." The scientist mused to himself as the teens exchanged numbers. He waited for a moment, watching as the two separated and Harry made his way back towards the hall.

"Your son? Is he still out there mingling?"

Norman nodded. "He ran into an old friend, I think."

The man stood from his desk and peered outside. He watched the boy slip around the back of the library. Norman wandered back over to the man's desk, sitting in a chair, and looking over some paperwork. The man kept watching the campus, following the masses of students with his eyes.

"So you want me to collaborate on a biological study? But it's not to do with Columbia, it's something off the record?"

"Yes, that's the gist of it," the man said, his eyes caught by something in the trees to the far end of the campus. "We're looking to.."

The man trailed off, watching as Spiderman launched himself out of the trees and took off back towards the city. He pulled out his phone and made a quick note, then turned back to the man behind him. "Sorry, Norman."

Norman waved his hand. A shadow passed over the man by the window, casting a darkness over his face.

"We're looking to examine the artificial fusion of cross-species DNA."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter lounged on the couch, his shirt riding up and exposing fresh bandaged. His left leg was draped up and over the back of the couch, and his hand was picking through his curls absentmindedly.

"What happened to you?" Clint asked, pointing to the teen's stomach.

"Still practicing the whole dodging thing," Peter shrugged. "Not used to people shooting back at me."

"I thought you had that special super-sense."

Peter rolled his eyes. "It gets overwhelmed sometimes. I dodged the punch, right into the path of the bullet."

Clint laughed, flopping onto the couch and sprawling out. "Well, we can't all be perfect. The hero thing is a lot different than the whole spy thing."

Just then, Tony came around the corner. Peter hurriedly pulled the hem of his shirt down to hide the bandages, but Tony had already seen.

"What happened?" The billionaire rushed over, kneeling by the couch and placing gentle fingers on the teen's stomach.

"Don't worry, Tony, I swear. It's okay. I got shot, it wasn't bad, went right through. Cho stitched me up."

Tony gasped. "Shot?"

"It really was nothing."

"Did you call May?" Peter winced slightly. He still wasn't exactly on speaking terms with his aunt, especially since Fury's call. Deep down, it wasn't her fault about Fury, but part of the teen blamed May. She was part of SHIELD. She knew what was happening. She knew that Peter...

The teen shook his head. "I haven't called her."

Tony sighed heavily. "You should really do that, kiddo, she should know."

Peter shrugged. "I don't want her to worry any more than she already does. Besides, she never cared when I was being shot at before."

Natasha and Steve came though the elevator, Natasha rushing forward at Peter's words.

"Who was shot at?"

Tony and Clint both watched in bewilderment as the red-head jumped to peel back Peter's bandages and check everything over. She traced around the tender skin, pressing lightly.

"Does that hurt?"

Peter shrugged. "A little."

"Do you have a fever?" Natasha fretted, pressing the back of her hand to Peter's forehead. "Do you feel at all light headed?"

"I've been shot before, mom," Peter mocked, pushing her hands away. "Really, Nat, I'm fine."

But Nat didn't hear him. She was frozen there, her hands still slightly outstretched. Clint furrowed his brow. He knew the whole 'mom' thing was a sensitive subject, but he'd never seen the woman look so shaken up. A shadow came across her face as she put her head down, but the archer thought he saw a tear.

"Natasha," he ventured, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Come with me for a moment, okay?" The woman got up, still stiff, and let Clint lead her away.

Tony's voice faded, chiding Peter for not being more careful, as Clint and Natasha moved away. He bypassed the kitchen, heading straight for Natasha's room. The lights were dimmed, but when Clint went to flip the switch, Natasha pushed his hand away.

"Don't. I would rather we do this without you staring me in the face."

Clint could hide his bafflement. He had no idea what the hell was going on with the woman lately, she was all sorts of emotional and cold and frozen and acting like Laura when...

"Natasha, what is going on with you?"

The red head looked up from her hands, tears pooling in her eyes and threatening to spill over.

"Peter, he's..."

Clint nodded her on.

"Peter is my son."