My body aches when I wake up, my shoulders the most, but my injuries are minor considering everything that happened, and my super healing has already kicked in.

I am unsurprised to see Aunt May by my bed when I come to in one of the medical rooms of the new Avengers compound. Taking in her pale face, the dark circles, her red rimmed eyes, I feel shame burning inside me like a bed of hot coals jammed inside my stomach.

"Hey," she says hoarsely, leaning towards me when she notices I am awake. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," I hurry to tell her. May's gaze is filled with suspicion. I insist, "Really, I'm fine. My shoulders are a little sore, but I've had worse."

That was the wrong thing to say. Crap. "I mean, no, not that I've had worse, just that it isn't so bad. I promise. I can feel everything healing already."

She nods, momentarily appeased, then stares at me for a while, opening and closing her mouth. Then May shakes her head, like she can't decide what to say next. The silence draws on, and my anxiety rises with every tense second.

"I'm sorry," I blurt finally, sitting up in the bed. "Aunt May, I am so so sorry! For everything, for letting him find out who I was, for not protecting you, for the apartment. I-I'll make it up to you, I promise! I'll drop out of school. Yeah! I'll, I'll work for Mr. Delmar at his new deli to help pay to fix everything."

My words seem to snap her out of her indecision.

May's voice is sharp as she says, "You will most certainly not be dropping out of school," her hand raises when I try to interrupt. "No. No buts. You're staying in school and that's that."

Aunt May leans back into her chair, looking weary and suddenly…old, for the first time. I am nauseous with the weight of the knowledge that I am the cause of it. She sighs heavily, placing fingers on her temples.

"Peter," she begins, her gaze on her lap. When she raises her head, I see her eyes glistening with tears, and I feel my throat tighten and eyes burn in response. I can't help myself. Whenever Aunt May cries, I cry, and it's even worse because I am the reason she is crying. "Peter, honey, I don't know how to do this."

Her voice breaks as she continues. "I don't know how I am supposed to be okay with all of this," she gestures at the room around us. "I know I can't ask you to stop being Spiderman. I know I can't take that away from you. But that doesn't mean I don't want to. Peter, he almost killed you. That man almost killed you right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. I couldn't protect you. And you know what? That freaking sucked."

I blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling, but warm tracks trail down my cheeks anyways. "I…I am so sorry, May."

I don't know what else to say. Part of me agrees with her. Part of me wants to put away the suit forever. For her sake. I had once told Tony that when you can do the things I do, and you don't, and bad things happen, they happen because of you. I meant that. My conscience couldn't rest knowing I could be helping people, saving them.

But this time, the bad things happened because of the things I can do. And they happened to the one person in the world I want to protect more than anyone.

How have I messed up so badly?

"Stop apologizing," May leans forward, covering my hand with hers. "I wanna make something clear here, ok? There are things you should apologize for, and things you shouldn't. You don't get to apologize for some murderous psycho finding out who you are. And you don't get to apologize for him forcing his way into our home to kill you. Got that? Shit like that is not on you, it's on him."

I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off with one of the more severe "mom" looks in her arsenal of facial expressions. "Things you most definitely will be apologizing for," she holds up a finger. "Firstly, shoving me in the effing elevator. That noble self-sacrificing shit? Nuh-uh. Not gonna fly, buddy. As surrogate parent, that is my job, not yours. Secondly, for not running when you had the chance, and sticking around to try and take him on yourself while I called Mr. Stark. The next time someone is trying to kill you, and God knows there will probably be a next time, you will do your damn best to get the hell out of there, do you understand me?"

I nod, my eyes wide.

May sighs again and squeezes my hand. "Thirdly, for scaring the absolute crap out of me. I really think you gave me about fifty gray hairs."

"I only see like, twelve."

She narrows her eyes. "God you are so lucky you are injured, or I'd be smacking that sass right out of you."

I give her a shaky grin, which she returns, and then I wipe off any trace of tears from my face. "I love you," I tell her. "I don't deserve you."

"I love you too, Peter. And you deserve the best this damn world has to offer."

I disagree, but I don't tell her that. "You're okay?" I ask tentatively.

"I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean," May replies. "Okay is a relative term. It may be awhile before I am able to let you out of my sight again without freaking out. And I can tell you I am never, ever trying to cook homemade chili again."

I blink at the seemingly random thought she had about chili of all things, then I recall the burning smell I detected on the stairwell, and the smoking pot on the stove when I discovered Toomes with her in our apartment. I wince. "Yeah, I can live with that."

I am lying on my back because of my still healing shoulders, and even though it is now four thirty six in the morning, I haven't slept at all. I am used to sleeping curled up on my side, or flat on my stomach with an arm dangling over the bed. I am also used to sleeping with the sounds of the city. Here, the room is filled with unfamiliar sounds; the rhythmic beating of the monitors nearby, the buzz of the dimmed fluorescent lights in the corner, the light snoring of my Aunt on the cushy couch against the wall.

I don't think it would have mattered though, even if I was able to sleep in my own bed without sharp, burning pain every time I move my arms or shift my back.

Because despite what my Aunt said, my guilt is still eating me alive.

My mind is on a constant loop, replaying not only the previous night's events in all their horrible clarity, but also the graphic imaginings of what could have happened.

He could have killed her.

He almost killed her.

Toomes would have shot Aunt May right there in our living room. He would have ripped apart the car she and Happy where in just to tear her apart with those talons, or drop her from a thousand feet up in the air.

All because of the choices I made.

I can't even pretend I am trying to sleep anymore. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and drop soundlessly to the floor, wincing at the throbbing pain in my shoulders. I glance at Aunt May, still fast asleep, and then head out of the room.

It's strange, walking through the Avenger's compound barefoot and alone at night, wearing nothing but sweats. The silence is deafening, and I keep my footsteps light on the slick tile.

My chest is tight with the heaviness of my anxiety. Walking, moving, seems to ease it slightly, but the silence still leaves me completely isolated with my thoughts.

"Don't talk about my family, when you obviously don't give two shits about your own. If you did, I wouldn't be here, would I?"

"Clearly, family doesn't mean as much to you as it does me."

"…you're going to watch me kill your Aunt."

"PETER!"

"…leave your head for Tony Stark to find."

My fingers are lacing through my hair, yanking on their roots as I quicken my pace down the empty hall. I can't stop the echoes of my memories, can't stop replaying the worst moments; seeing Toomes on the couch with May, him rising, reaching for the gun, Toomes blasting a hole through the Iron-man suit when I thought Tony was still inside, the Vulture lunging for Aunt May…

I reach the end of the hall, and I find myself on the second floor landing, a glass walled railing separating me from the wide lobby below. I lean against it, trying to calm my queasy stomach.

What the hell are we going to do?

Because of me, Toomes completely demolished our apartment. The repairs on the building would likely take months, and I am positive most of our belongings are now dust. Had anyone gone to scavenge the remains of our things?

We were barely keeping afloat. May had been working as much as she could in order to keep up with the expenses of our apartment and my school, and things had still been tight. Now?

Oh god, I think I am actually going to throw up. It's going to really suck if I have to vomit over the edge onto the lobby floor. The thought of hunting down a mop in some closet somewhere and traipsing downstairs to the lobby to clean up my own puke is the only thing that prevents me from emptying my stomach.

"You know, green is more Bruce's color. It doesn't suit you, kid."

I jump, my head snapping to the side as Tony leans on the railing beside me. Wow. I must be super out of it if I hadn't heard or sensed him come up behind me.

I've never seen Tony Stark so casual. He's wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt and a pair of comfortable looking, but no doubt incredibly expensive sweat pants. And…slippers?

I raise an eyebrow at him.

Unfazed, he glances down at his feet, then at me. "What? Like I'm going to wear my loafers or oxfords with nightwear. Or was I supposed to run around barefoot like some kind of heathen?"

Tony gives my bare feet a pointed look.

"I couldn't sleep," I admit.

"Your Aunt hottie better not wake up and catch you out of bed. You'll never hear the end of it."

"I could always blame you," I joke half-heartedly. "She doesn't seem to care for you much. I think she blames you for me getting into all this."

I gesture around us.

"Don't think that one's going to work for you, kid. She and I are on very good terms at the moment."

I give him a sideways look, my brows narrowing. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Tony smirks slightly, but doesn't answer my question. "How are the shoulders?"

Ok, I am definitely making a mental note to come back to that. I go to shrug, then stop as I think better of it. "Ok. Sore."

"Bird-man definitely tore you up pretty good. The scratches on your arms were the first to heal, then your head. But the shoulder wounds were definitely the deepest."

Scratches on my arms?

"Oh. That wasn't Toomes. That was a cat."

Tony stares at me. "A cat," he deadpans.

I scratch the back of my head, my cheeks heating slightly with embarrassment. "Uh, yeah. I sort of- well, I saved a cat. From, you know, a tree."

His expression is so blank, I worry for a moment that I broke him. Then Tony straightens and cocks his head to the side as he looks me over. "Kid, you are something else."

"Uh, thank you?"

"Walk with me."

He doesn't wait for me to agree, or even turn his head to see if I'm following, just heads alongside the railing without another word. I quickly catch up, matching his leisurely pace as he takes me through the Avengers compound.

It wasn't long ago that we were doing the exact same thing, albeit under very different circumstances.

"Mr. Stark?" I venture as we turn a corner.

"Hmm?"

"W-what's going to happen? With Toomes, I mean," my stomach is tight, waiting for his answer, and my fingertips tingle, starting to go numb. I swear he can hear the thundering of my heart echoing off the walls.

It's hard not to freak out, because it's all I've been thinking about; how badly I had screwed up, how I almost got the two most important people in my life killed, and what was going to happen now. Toomes knows my identity, destroyed my apartment, nearly killed me and May, and who knows who he could be telling as I strolled along this hallway with Tony Stark?

"Adrian Toomes is going away for a very long time, in one of the most secure places in the world," Tony finally answers. "You won't have to worry about him again."

"That's not- I mean, thank you, Mr. Stark, but what about the fact that he knows who I am, and very much wants to kill me? What if he escapes again? What if he tells someone else? What if they tell everyone else? What if-"

"Woah, kid, breathe for a second," Tony puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Look, I told you, you don't have to worry about Toomes again. I promise, I took care of it."

"How? I mean, what's stopping him?" I don't mean to question him, or sound ungrateful, but I have to know.

"While you were unconscious, Toomes and I had a little chat," Tony's eyes darken, and the hand on my shoulder tightens slightly. I have to hide my wince. He seems to realize it anyways, and takes his hand off as we turn another corner and enter an elevator. "I made a deal with him, made him an offer he couldn't refuse, if you will."

"And what was that?"

God, what did Tony have to give him to buy his silence? How large will my debt be to this man?

"In exchange for his silence, and his most solemn promise to never even think about you or your Aunt again, I promised to secure his family for life. Big, beautiful house, 401k for the missus, a full ride to any university of his daughter's choice, etc. If he breaks our little deal, it all goes away. You get the idea."

I stare at him, my mouth hanging open and no doubt looking completely ridiculous. "You-wow."

"I know, my generosity is astounding."

It really was. Liz could go to any university she wanted, have any career, any life she wanted. And her mom would be taken care of. It was everything Toomes had ever wanted for them, more, even. Nothing is more important to him than his family. My heartbeat slowly resumes a normal pace, and something within me eases at the news.

Liz will have a good life. She will be okay.

And Aunt May will be safe. Toomes won't come after us again, or reveal my secret to anyone.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, as the elevator doors open and we step out. Aunt May told me to stop apologizing, but with all this man had to do to fix my mistakes, to save us… "I'm so sorry for not telling you about Toomes, and that you had to do all of this. I swear, I'll make it up to you."

Tony leads me into what looks like an incredibly modern, high tech office. Even the door slides open automatically, with a female voice saying, "Welcome, boss."

"How would you do that, exactly?"

I swallow thickly. "Uh…I don't, I mean, I haven't really-"

"Calm down, kid, and take a seat," Tony plops himself onto a very cushy looking wheeled desk chair, and I sit on the other side of the thin, silver desk. I fiddle with the hem of my shirt, suddenly feeling like I am at the principal's office, about to get detention. I doubt Tony would appreciate the comparison, so I don't say anything.

Tony picks up a tablet, tapping on it a few times with deft fingers before swiping upwards, and suddenly a holographic screen lights up in the air above it. I blink at the image. It's a fully furnished apartment, the images showing the living room, the open planned kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. It's nice, nicer than our old apartment, but still homey looking, nothing extravagant.

"Well? What do you think?"

"Um, it's nice. You're moving, Mr. Stark?" I finally say, thinking that it looks like nothing the flamboyant billionaire would choose.

He rolls his eyes. "Kid, I know its early in the morning, but try to use that big brain of yours, yeah? This is the new casa de parker. So you can stop stressing about all your shortcomings and screw-ups leaving you and your aunt virtually homeless."

My mouth falls open. "I-we-you can't-"

"You really should never tell a billionaire he can't do something. It only spurs him on," Tony interrupts. "I can. I did. It's done and signed over to your aunt's name."

"Mr. Stark, you've already done so much for us. We can't-this is too much," I protest. I know he means well, but my debt to him is growing exponentially, and accepting this charity when he's saved me too many times to count…

"I told you, it's done. Already signed and sealed with your Aunt. There were lots of tears, and some slapping, which is understandable since she was slightly hysterical at the time. See? It's impossible for someone not to like me for too long."

I cringe inwardly at the mental image of Aunt May slapping Tony Stark across the face. Oh god, I am completely mortified. This isn't helping my stress levels, its worsening them. I am shaking my head. "Mr. Stark-"

"Ok, before you keep going with how unworthy you are and how immensely generous I am," Tony leans back in his chair and plays with a pen in his hands. He points it at me. "You should know, this isn't all coming for free."

Oh. My stomach sinks further. How is Aunt May going to pay him back for all this? How am I going to pay her back for all this?

"It isn't?"

"Nope. Looks like your cover story isn't just a cover anymore, kid. You're officially mine, now. My intern, my lackey, my underling, you can pick. Although lackey does have a nice ring to it."

"I-what?"

Tony is smirking. "That's right, kid. You are going to be spending your weekends at my beck and call. And before you get any ideas that this is going to be some awesome, bonding, working on upgrades and technological advances with your incredible mentor sort of thing, think again. You're going to spend your days as a glorified custodian; cleaning toilets, scrubbing floors, polishing my many cars, and whatever else I feel like coming up with. Got it?"

I can't hide my grin. "Got it, Mr. Stark. Thank you, really."

"Don't thank me yet, Pete. Just wait until you see the list Happy has come up with for you."

It's a punishment, but I can't help but be relieved. I can work off what I owe him without May lifting a finger. If that means my weekends aren't spent hanging out with Ned and playing video games, but instead cleaning and working in the Avengers facility, I can live with that.

I feel my body relax, my anxiety ease. Because even though my screw ups cost the people around me, I can make it right. And I can always count on Tony Stark to help me do it.

Finished! I hope you guys liked this story, and please let me know what you thought! Reviews are seriously life. lol. I'm working on another story right now, but it may be awhile before I can post it, so stay tuned! I'll give you a hint though, this one may involve more Avengers. ;)