He wears his own shirt to school one day... his own, honest to goodness shirt, that fits him and has a bad science pun on it, and he's wearing his own pants and he looks...

Well, to be completely honest, he just looks like a nerd. A ripped, fit, nerd.

He's awkward and gangly and the way he moves is like he's still not quite comfortable in his own skin.

Flash teases him mercilessly when he notices what Peter's wearing ("What, nerd, your girlfriend get sick of you and decide to get a man?") and while Peter usually just sighs and tries to brush past it, he kind of just shrinks in on himself and stares at his toes.

Flash teases him some more, but MJ and Ned can tell, watching him, that he's a bit uncertain about it, too, and eventually he just walks away, casting nervous glances at Peter.

"I'll handle him," MJ sighed, blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes as she glanced at Ned. "Stick here, nerd."

Something conflicted flickered over Ned's features before he sighed and agreed lightly, "Yeah, okay."

"Hey, loser." MJ raised an eyebrow as she sat on the chair in front of Peter. "What's up? You're all..." She made a vague gesture at Peter, and he made a nervous shrugging motion.

"I don't know. I wanted to try today, to, well, you know..." He made an equally vague gesture, and a small sound of frustration at the back of his throat. "But I just can't... it's not..." He frowned and scowled at his hands. "I feel like I'm... just me."

MJ snorted and flicked his forehead. "Maybe you didn't notice," She raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. "But you are just you. What, did you think you were some crazy mishmash of multiple personalities?"

Peter made a sound that might have been a laugh, but it was a bit too small and nervous to really seem like one. "I just... I forgot." He sucked in a deep, long breath. "Forgot how it feels to be alone."

MJ rolled her eyes and leaned back on her chair, stacking her feet up on Peter's desk. "Yeah, well, too bad for you, we're never letting you remember." She paused, and wrinkled her nose. "Wait, no, that sounded sappy. I take it back."

Peter laughed at that, a slightly fuller, louder sound that seemed to startle himself. "Yeah, I know. It's just... different. It's like, now... it's like it's all on me, now."

"What's all on you?" MJ raised an eyebrow, tilting her chin up as she leaned forwards ever so slightly. "Saving the world? Because I hate to break it to you, but whether or not you can sense us with your freaky abilities, you're stuck with us."

Seeming to have fulfilled her kindness quota for the day, she quickly pulled her legs off of his desk and stood up, hitting him lightly over the head with her book as she went back to her seat.

"Loser."

Peter inhaled the smell of MJ as she passed, old books and wooden shelves and microwave food and figured, alright, I can let go of this for a while.

He didn't need MJ's clothes to hear her calling him a loser, so maybe he didn't need anyone's clothes for them to stick with him.

Ned caught him on the way home, practically skipping over to Peter as he asked, half concerned but mostly excited, "Dude, are you feeling better?"

Peter gave an uncharacteristic shrug and answered, "I think so. It's so weird, though, having to wear something that fits me so well." He frowned and looked down at his clothes. "And it smells weird, too."

"Whoa, right, you have, like, super cool Spidey-senses." Ned sighed wistfully, pulling his books closer to his chest as he murmured, "Man, I wish I was like that. So, like, it doesn't smell like us anymore, right? What does it smell like?"

Peter lifted his shirt up to his nose and sniffed it. "Gross." He admitted, wrinkling his nose and pulling the collar away from his face. "It smells like food and sweat and the chem lab."

"So, it smells like you." Ned concluded, bobbing his head into a nod. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Peter groaned, and lifted his arm to sniff himself. "Do I seriously smell this bad? Ugh, Aunt May's right, I do need to shower."

Ned snickered and answered teasingly, "Hey, you're the one who said it, not me."

At Peter's miffed expression, he put up both his hands and laughed. "It's weird," Peter mumbled as he put the collar down carefully. "Feeling like I don't have one of you guys near me."

Ned shrugged and tapped his finger against his chin. "Maybe we're not, like, physically near you, but we're still with you. We're still going to be here, it's not like we can just disappear."

"Right." Peter closed his eyes and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. "I just..."

"Forgot?"

"...Worry."

Ned frowned, and reached out to bump his knuckles against Peter's. "How is having our clothes on your back going to protect us?" He asked quietly, dead serious yet still sounding slightly childish.

Peter puffed out his lips and blew out a frustrated sigh. "I... I don't know. I just... it comforts me to remember that I've seen you alive. It's like an unspoken promise, you know? Like, a 'you won't die until I give you your shirt back' type of situation."

"Then there we go." Ned stopped walking, and Peter froze along with him, ignoring the crowd bumping past them. "I promise to not die until we're old and have white hair and knobbly knees and we troll kids by acting super embarrassing."

Peter laughed at that, forgetting for a moment about what they'd been talking about before. "Can you imagine Spider-man, with white hair and a cane, going around and still making bad guys afraid?"

Ned leaned over and made a pinched expression, changing his voice to a low and whiny groan of, "Now, sonny, put the gun down or you get a time out. Thwip, thwip!"

They laughed a bit until they felt sick, and fell into more comfortable conversations on the walk home.

"But seriously," Ned readjusted the strap on his backpack, and offered Peter a serious stare. "You can keep wearing our clothes if you need to. Just know that, whether or not you wear our clothes, everything will be okay."

"Yeah." Peter offered Ned a small, bright smile. "Okay."

(I promise. Peter held the words close to his chest, unable to keep the smile from bursting onto his lips every time that he thought of it. Ned will be fine. The rest of them, too.)

He keeps the watch, but he goes to meet up with Tony in his own clothes and Tony only raises an eyebrow and goes, "Finished with your identity crisis, kid?"

Peter splutters and exclaims, "It wasn't an identity crisis!"

But all Tony does is wave a hand, raising an eyebrow as he skeptically snorts, "Sure, kid, keep telling yourself that."

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. "I will." He pouted, jutting his chin out and sighing, and just looking overall very much like a moody teenager.

"Right. So, kid, what did you find out about yourself?"

Peter frowned over his menu. "Mr. Stark, I didn't go on a meditation retreat, I just changed what I was wearing. It's no big deal."

Tony's eyebrow inched a bit higher.

Peter rolled his eyes, exasperated, and muttered, "I'm a dork that sweats a lot."

"Good answer." A waiter came over to their table and set down a few burritos in front of Tony. "But we already knew that about you."

Peter shuffled awkwardly in his seat again, before sighing, "I like to hide. When I wear clothes that fit me, I feel open and exposed when really all I'm doing is wearing something that works with me and not someone else."

"Wait, kid, stop." Tony choked on his burrito as he held up a hand. "This is getting way too close to the emotions zone, okay? I'm not cool with the... the emotions zone. I'm still constructing it, so we're just going to back off a little and..."

"Mr. Stark." Peter groaned, somewhat impatiently. "You were the one who asked me about it."

"Yeah, but you're confiding in me!" Tony gestured at himself. "Like, kid, I'm sorry, but do you see who you're talking to? The guy who can't handle emotions, that's who! The guy who has no idea what he's doing! You can't just do that!"

Peter raised his eyebrows, mimicking Tony's previous expression. "You pushed, Mr. Stark."

"I did, didn't I?" Tony groaned, and tipped his head back. "Let me get you a therapist."

"Get yourself one."

"Bug off, kid." Pause. Decisively. "Pun intended."

Laughter.

(This is what I've found. I've found that I don't like showing myself. I feel exposed. I like hiding. I like ducking behind other people's backs or keeping them at mine's. I'm terrified of being alone. I cling like crazy. I try to be like others. I forgot for a while who Peter was, in trying to figure out who Spider-man should be. But I'm trying to find him, and this is one step closer. Except I can't say any of this out loud, because apparently Mr. Stark is a hypocrite who can't deal with emotions.)

(Maybe, some things, he just didn't need to say out loud to know that they were true.)

(Maybe he didn't need to say it out loud, since he was leaving behind that scared kid who wanted to hide.)

Peter was comfortable like this.

May took him shopping a little while later.

"You don't like any of your clothes," She shrugged when Peter whined about it. "At least, not really. Not yet. So we're getting you whatever you want. Something that makes you feel safe."

And Peter can't really argue with that, so he just breathes in the scent of their home (dead flowers and electric sparks and takeout and something distinctly May and Peter and familiar and good) and sighs, "Okay."

He's been sighing a lot lately, he thinks.

"Hey, Peter," May pulled out a shirt with the words 'AU fanfiction is pure gold'. "What about this?"

Peter instantly lit up and bounded over, before frowning. "It's too small."

May raised an eyebrow, and pressed it against the front of Peter's chest. "It's perfectly your size."

"Yeah. Right." Peter frowned at the shirt, as though it were something bad.

May lowered the shirt, and offered Peter a small, but still bright smile. "How about we get a shirt one or two sizes bigger?"

"No..." Peter shook his head, and reached out to take the hanger from May. "I, I want to try this."

May beamed at him and ruffled his hair. "Find what makes you comfortable, okay?" She murmured into his hair. "Don't push yourself."

"I won't." Peter promised, squeezing her hand. "But I can't keep relying on you guys forever."

"Rely all you want." May snorted, rolling her eyes as though to say, teenagers. "This isn't about relying on us. This is about trusting yourself."

"But I'm better when I'm with you guys." Peter was ino

"No matter who you're with or where you are, you'll always be Peter Parker."

THE END

A/N: Sooo, I updated early today, so that's nice. But now this is done. Which sucks. I dunno. It's good, I guess, I just, I liked this. Writing it. Um. (I'm sick, actually, so I've got to go to bed early. I'm not actually being nice, haha...)