**Request for OfficiallyDoneWLife where the Avengers find a new young man to replace Peter, but figure out exactly what they're missing later and make things right. This one was a lot of fun to write, but I totally went off course at the end so I hope it's still what you want. As a side note, I just put "writes online fiction stories" on my resume, so let's all cross our fingers I get the job without them asking me more about my fanfic, lol. Enjoy!!**

Peter bounced on the ball of his feet in the elevator as he waited for the doors to slide open. He was just getting done with finals, so this was the first time he'd be seeing the team in a couple weeks. Finally, the doors slid open and-

The team was watching a movie, a head of blond, messy waves peeking out from the back of the couch in between Tony's own curls and Bucky's long, braided back hair.

"Hey, guys." Peter's excitement was dying quickly, his shoulders deflating and his smile fading. 

Tony didn't look over his shoulder. It was actually Sam who looked over his shoulder at Peter, shooting the teen a happy and genuine smile. "Hey, web-head! It's been a while!"

Same stood to give Peter a hug, which was kind of odd, but... everyone else just laughed at a joke in the movie and Peter jumped a little. Sam watched as the teen watched them all laugh and joke. The new kid said something about "and this is why I love this movie" and Peter took a closer look. It was some sci-fi flick, something pre-90's judging by the special effects. Peter scoffed a little.

"I'm going to go check on some code I had running over the last week," he said to Sam, who was looking extremely torn about the whole situation, but ultimately let Peter go.

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It was hours later that Sam came down to the lab, a plate of Tony's famous spaghetti in his hands. Peter looked down at it angrily, but let Sam into his lab. Peter didn't even know why he was so mad. Why was he so mad?

"I brought you dinner," Sam said, setting the plate down. "I figured since you're staying the night..." Sam looked around the lab, noting that it was pretty much exactly like Tony's - half-empty mugs of coffee were strewn around and balanced on all sorts of tables and towers of books. "Are you... Are you okay?"

Peter pushed the spaghetti to the side, instead going back to his work on the code. Sam hadn't done much work in therapy in the last few weeks, but he knew when someone needed support. He leaned back on one of the work benches, his hands shoved in his pajama pants pockets.

Peter just kept his head down and worked.

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The rest of the week passed slowly. The kid hanging around the team was named Harley, and according to one Tony Stark, he was a genius.

Peter was angry. Angry that Harley was picking the movies, working in the labs, taking the guest room Peter normally stayed in. Every time he heard someone call for Harley or overheard a conversation about how funny and sweet and kind Harley was, Peter saw red. He wanted to hate the kid, he wanted to punch the kid.

The anger lasted a day.

And then Peter noticed the way Natasha ruffled Harley's hair, or how Tony let Harley work on the cars, or watched how Steve made Harley lunch, and Peter was jealous. When Clint started a paint-ball war and let Harley used Peter's special red and blue gun, he felt jealousy. Red hot and all consuming. Peter hated being jealous, but here he was, sneering every time he heard the kid's name.

The jealousy lasted 2 days.

When Peter realized he didn't have the right size of star-head screw, he headed up to Tony's lab and there was Tony, huddled over something and-

"Can I work on the IronSuit?"

Peter bit back a hasty 'no', waiting instead for Tony to shut Harley down. Instead, there was a chuckle.

"You can work on a IronSuit, but not the one I use now. Play with Mach 1, kiddo."

Peter forgot all about the screws he was looking for, the wind knocked from his chest. The teen had no idea how he got back down to his own lab, but then he was curling into his chest and tears were soaking into his shirt. He didn't even know how long he was sitting there, rocking lightly back and forth and sobbing quietly into his arms. He didn't even hear when Sam came in and crouched behind the teen, putting his own arms around the poor kid.

"Okay, okay, okay," Sam chanted quietly, rubbing circles on Peter's back. "Let it out. Really scream into it, Pete, let it all out so we can talk."

Many minutes later - and more screaming than Peter was proud of - Sam let Peter pull himself back and out of Sam's arms. Peter sniffled hard, sucking up snot and tears, and wiped his face with his palm.

"I'm okay," Peter whispered. "I'm fine."

"You're not, and that's okay," Sam retorted. "Peter, we should talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about!" Peter turned from Sam harshly, his arms swinging around as he turned. "Okay? I get it, Sam, you're here because you're the only one who feels bad enough to pity me, okay? The others - Natasha, Tony, Steve, Clint - they get to make this choice! They get to pick someone else, okay? I'm used to it now, I can- can deal with- I can deal with it! Okay?"

Peter pulled himself up to his feet and started pacing, his hands reaching up to tug at his roots. Sam took a deep breath, already gearing up for a long session with the teen. "Peter, we should really talk about this."

"No!" Peter turned back to Sam, his face red and drawn up in pain. "No, Sam, I'm not going to do this to you!"

Sam knew when a dam was about to break, and Peter didn't need anymore pushing at that point.

"I'm not going to keep being this stupid kid who needs people because that's exactly how we get here! I need and take and I am a burden and then when people get the chance, they throw me away!" Peter sniffled again, tears coming for a second time. "I get that, Sam. I have to be the easy one or else I'm not worth having around, okay?"

Peter sniffled again, and Sam took that as a cue to start talking about how absolutely awful that sounded.

"You know Peter, when people go through loss multiple times in life, especially when they have to recover from that loss on their own, they start to change how they act and how they develop relationships. Did you know that?"

"I'm not an idiot, Sam, I know how- Ugh! This was a stupid conversation." Peter started walking towards the doors to his lab, punching the buttons angrily to let him out. The doors didn't budge. "What the- FRIDAY? Karen?"

"Peter, you should hear what Mr. Wilson has to say."

"Traitors." The teen turned back to Sam, his arms crossed.

Sam didn't waste any time in jumping back into the conversation, keeping his face and body language cool and casual. "Listen, Peter, you're a person. People are valuable and unique and worthy of love, right?" Peter nodded. "All people, including you. That value isn't diminished when a person needs love and support. You are valuable, even when you ask for help. You said you have to be the easy part of a relationship to keep it, but that's not true. If it were, you'd never hang around people who need support like Tony."

Peter scoffed, but he had that look on his face like he was starting to see things Sam's way.

"Peter, I..." Sam didn't want to overstep his boundaries, but he knew what this was. It was textbook. "I think you have abandonment issues, Peter, and I just want you to know that I'm here. I want to help you through this, and the first step is putting a name on it."

Peter nodded a little. "How do I stop it? I feel horrible all the time, Sam, I just- I just want- I just want to feel better."

"What if we have a conversation? We can have someone from the team come down here and talk."

Peter nodded slowly. "Can... Can we talk with Tony?"

Sam gave Peter a gentle smile. "Let's do that, then. FRIDAY?"

The AI informed them that Tony was on his way - alone of course - and Peter immediately started fidgeting. Sam put a warm hand over Peter's and forced the boy's chin up so he could look at him properly. "Tony loves you, just like you love him. When he trusts you with his PTSD, you support him, so now you know you can trust him with this."

Peter nodded and then there was Tony, bringing with him that comforting smell of motor oil and expensive aftershave.

"What's up, guys? FRIDAY said you needed me."

Sam made a pointed look, one Tony knew well by now. Sam was in therapist mode, and judging by the way Peter's hands were shaking, it was Peter who was in the metaphorical chair. In an instant Tony was at Peter's side, checking him over for injuries and taking his pulse and preparing mentally for a panic attack. Peter just pushed him back.

"I'm fine," the teen mumbled. Sam cleared his throat, and Peter shot the doctor a look. "I'm... I'm not fine."

Tony waited patiently for Peter to keep going. Peter took a breath, trying to keep the tears back, but then he couldn't do it, and everything came tumbling out. Every angry thought, ever jealous feeling, ever time Peter felt lost and abandoned and like he'd never get to feel Tony's hand on his shoulder or curl up at the billionaire's side for movie nights.

Tony held Peter tightly, never daring to pull his hands away, never even lessening the pressure he was putting on Peter's shoulder and back. When the teen was done, Tony just pressed a kiss to Peter's curls and hugged him tight.

"I'm so sorry, bambino, I never-" Tony swallowed hard around a lump in his throat. "You're my kid, Peter. I'm never going to stop loving you, not ever."

And for the first time in his life, Peter trusted Tony to not leave him behind.