Thank you so so much to everyone who has been reading/reviewing! I appreciate you all so much! Here is the final chapter :)

Hero

Peter hadn't given a lot of thought to his new...traits yet. Of course, Dr. Strange had spent the entire day running tests during which he'd learned that that he could stick to things, was stronger than before, and could see a lot better. And that was...fine. Cool? Mostly just weird though. Strange. His dad was still scared and the whole team was worried about him while Dr. Strange seemed mildly fascinated. He tried not to feel too much like the man's lab rat.

There were obviously downsides to his new weird...mutation? He was a mutant. Every time he heard that word or thought about it, he remembered seeing the news...how people talked about mutants. The tone they used when they said the word. How citizens interviewed on the streets cringed at the mere mention of mutants. How so many people, both regular citizens and lawmakers, thought that mutants ought to be registered or even locked away from 'normal people.' That's how people would look at him now.

That wasn't the only downside. There was also his weird new metabolism that demanded a lot more food than before, and that had nearly made him pass out in front of Steve and his dad after boxing for less than thirty minutes. And he knew that there might be others...there was no way of knowing. There were no other cases of humans being introduced to radioactive spider DNA. He'd been suffering from severe radiation poisoning.

His dad had thought he was going to die.

He hadn't told him exactly how bad it had been. Neither had Dr. Strange, probably at his father's request, but he heard the two of them talking several rooms over while he'd been resting on the sofa, arm covering his eyes from the annoying fluorescent lights whose constant humming he could suddenly hear. "You're sure the brain damage was all reversed?"

"Yes. His brain was repairing itself as quickly as the damage was being done." The doctor had assured him. They'd gone quiet after that, leaving Peter to wonder what they were up to in there. Laying on that sofa in the gym, he allowed himself briefly to miss Bruce. Of course, Helen was the Avengers doctor, and Dr. Strange had maybe saved him, but Bruce had been his doctor since the man had first come into their lives, cleaning up scrapes and bruises and always helping him out with science homework when he needed it. His dad had joked that Bruce was replacing him as his favorite. Peter had just grinned, and his father had ruffled his hair, then pulled him close, nose in his hair.

"Nah. You're always my favorite." Peter had told his dad, throwing his arms around him, and for a long moment, the man had just held him.

"You're always my favorite too, Pete."

Footsteps approached from pretty far away, taking a long time to get to him. Or maybe he could just hear them from further away. He could hear better. Everything was louder and brighter and...more. Everything was more. An irrational part of him wanted to cry, suddenly. He hadn't asked for this. He didn't want it! Didn't want to be a mutant with weird powers! His eyes heated up and he tried to push it away...he was being a baby. He had cool powers! Like Steve! And he could climb walls and…

"Pete?" He felt his dad sit on the sofa by his head, a hand brushing through his messy curls. "Look at me, kiddo." He urged, and, with a sigh, Peter removed his arm. His dad kept his hand on his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. "What's going on in that head of yours, kid?"

"I…" Peter hesitated, feeling the emotions rise and not knowing what to do with them. Hid dad just waited, though. "I don't want to be a mutant." He finally whispered, hating the tear that escaped. Immediately, his dad put his arms around him, pulling him upright so that he could rest his head on his dad's shoulder. Scooting up, he leaned against his father, glad that the doctor wasn't with them. He liked Doctor Strange just fine, but he didn't want to cry in front of him.

"Oh, kid." He whispered, sounding so sad, and Peter hated himself for making his dad worry even more. Shaking his head, he tried to pull away.

"I'm fine." He tried to insist. "It's fine, I just…" But his dad didn't let go and Peter didn't try too hard to make him.

"Kiddo, it's okay to be freaked out by this. It's going to take some getting used to. But you can take all the time you need, okay?" Peter took a deep breath and nodded, eyes slipping shut as he took a minute to rest against his dad. "You know I've got you, right? Always? I won't let anything happen to you."

He nodded again. "I know."

"And you know that you're going to be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He felt his dad kiss his hair, squeezing him quickly before sitting up, wiping his eyes and ignoring the fond, almost amused look in his eyes. "Alright, buddy. You ready to head upstairs?"

"Does the doctor want to do more tests later?" Peter asked.

"I think that's enough tests for today." His father assured him, pushing himself to his feet, then holding out a hand to pull Peter up as well.

Peter's dad kept an arm around his shoulders, leading him into the elevator and then up to the first floor. Helen was talking to Doctor Strange, although his father wouldn't tell him what about. Peter figured he didn't really want to know, following his dad into the living room where they found Steve sitting on the sofa. The man jumped up, huge, worried eyes on Peter. "Are you okay?" He asked, reaching out and gripping his shoulder. His dad let him go, heading into the kitchen to get them drinks as Steve moved Peter towards the sofa.

"Yeah." Peter nodded, cheeks kind of red. He'd nearly passed out in front of Captain America.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, ducking down to look into his eyes, Peter accepting the gatorade that his father handed him. Tony sat on Peter's other side, tossing Steve a gatorade as well and taking a swig of his own water.

"Turns out his metabolism is a lot faster than before, so he needs to eat more. Like yours." Steve hummed under his breath, not looking any less concerned. "Especially when he exercises, apparently. I'm going to work on some protein bars maybe...something that you can eat during the day to keep you from crashing. Want to help?" Peter shrugged.

"Sure." He muttered.

"Peter? You feeling okay?" Steve asked, touching his arm.

"Fine." Peter answered, voice short. Terse.

Peter could practically feel his dad and Steve giving each other a look...he knew he was worrying them. But he couldn't help it. He felt weird. And a little scared. And he didn't know what to do. "Alright, Pete. I'm going to run downstairs and talk to Doctor Strange and Helen. You okay up here?" He nodded, and Tony patted him on the shoulder, probably giving Steve another look over his head.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, both staring at the TV that was turned to the news, and then a hand landed on his shoulder. "You know, after the serum...it was pretty strange." Peter glanced up at him. "I could see better, didn't have asthma...I was taller." He chuckled a little. "I didn't have a lot of time to think about it. And I'd signed up for it with some knowledge of what I was getting into. You, on the other hand…" He trailed off, gesturing to Peter with his hand. "I know it's rough, son, but you're going to be okay." He promised.

"I just...I see it on the news all the time. People hate mutants." Peter murmured. "There are people that think they should be registered or...or kept in prisons. Some people even want to kill them."

"I know. But you know your dad would never let that happen. Neither would the rest of us." He moved his hand to the back of Peter's neck, squeezing gently. "No one has to know, not if you don't want them to."

That was true...he could keep this secret. He knew that none of the Avengers would tell anyone, and neither would the doctors who'd helped him...Ned neither. Of course he was going to tell Ned! Right? Ned could keep it a secret. Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he leaned back against the sofa, and Steve smiled, moving his hand and then patting him on the knee. "Alright, Pete. You want to watch something else? I can change it."

"That's okay. I'm going to go to my room...better text Ned." Steve waved as Peter headed off to his room, more aware than ever of all the sounds...heartbeats and footsteps and whispers...it was so loud. Groaning, he pushed his door open, turned on the lights, then immediately shut them off. Too bright. Too loud.

"Peter? You seem to be in distress." Friday spoke softly, her voice lowered to her lowest setting.

"It's so loud." He murmured, dropping onto his bed. And it only seemed to be getting louder...so loud. He reached blindly for his phone on his bedside table and flinched at the light coming off his screen. Groaning, he dropped it onto his bed beside him. "Friday?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Can you make it quieter?"

"Might I suggest going to your father's lab? It would probably be quieter there." The thought of standing with the steadily growing pounding in his temples sounded awful, so he just curled up in his bed, pulling the pillow over his head and curling up into a miserable ball before there was a soft knock on his door.

"Peter?"

"Hm?" He asked, knowing that she couldn't hear him but also not able to raise his voice any louder without the threat of bursting his own eardrums.

"Should I tell her that she can come in?" Friday asked, still speaking softly.

"Yeah." He muttered, and then Pepper was sitting beside him, a gentle hand on his back.

"Honey? Are you okay?" She asked, the hand moving to his hair, and his whole body went limp when she scratched circles with her nails. He groaned again and she continued to rub her fingers through his hair, scratching gently. "Friday?"

"Peter appears to be suffering from the beginnings of sensory overload." Friday told her, voice setting still on low. "This is most likely a result of his genetic mutations." He grumbled irritably under his breath and she shifted over toward him on the bed, moving his pillow and head so that they were resting on her lap.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Your current actions seem to be helping." He yawned, curling up under the blanket she pulled up over his shoulders as she continued to scratch his scalp.

"Friday, can you get the doctor and Tony?" She whispered, pressing her fingers into his temples. He wanted to insist that it wasn't necessary, but she'd already done it and he didn't want to speak. Speaking would probably hurt even more.

It wasn't long before his father was there, a large hand resting gently on his shoulder, low voices speaking to one another. "Peter? Can you hear me?" The doctor asked. Peter groaned at the noise, nodding just a little. "Can you tell me what's the matter?"

"Loud. Bright." He muttered.

"The best thing you can do is turn the lights off, reduce all noise, and give him pain medicine if he has a migraine." Doctor Strange spoke softly, and thankfully, his dad followed his suggestion, leaving and returning with a pill and a bottle of water that Peter swallowed, then went back to his position on Pepper's lap. The woman stayed at his side for three full hours, barely speaking, just rubbing circles on his scalp with her fingers, another hand rubbing up and down his arm. His father checked in a few times, pausing to run his hands through Peter's hair.

When the headache finally faded, Peter opened his eyes, sitting up at a little, and Pepper put a hand behind his back to help. "Better?" She asked, and he gave a hesitant nod. "Do you want to talk about anything?" He just shook his head, resting his head on her shoulder and fighting back the tears. He didn't want to cry again. But she wrapped her arms around him. "Oh baby...it's going to be okay." She promised.

He hoped she was right.

The first week seemed to pass this way. Peter stayed home from school and Doctor Strange stayed at the compound, taking blood samples and working in the lab with Helen Cho and Peter's dad. One minute, Peter would be fine, and the next, everything would seem to crash down around him. Sometimes it was sensory overload that left him with a pounding migraine that left him unable to do anything more than curl up in a ball in his dark bedroom that his father had managed to soundproof while working on a sensory deprivation room. His dad worried every time, sticking right by his side, resting Peter's head in his lap and promising in a soft voice that he was going to be okay. Other times his metabolism would crash when he wouldn't eat enough, or go too long without eating, and he'd have to grab onto the nearest piece of furniture to keep from collapsing until he could grab one of those granola bars.

At night, he had nightmares. Visions of men in suits dragging him away, locking him up in a lab and sticking him with needles. Images of being taken away from his father...from his family. Of being thrown into a cell or strapped to a table. The nightmares left him shaking, jerking awake and crying into his pillow. He always told Friday not to get anyone...he was too old be be crying to his dad every time he had a nightmare. Instead, he texted Ned, promising that he was fine and trying to figure out how to tell his friend that he was now a mutant.

By the end of the week, the doctor left with instructions for Helen to call him if any new symptoms arose, and Peter was getting back to feeling like himself. Not perfect...the sensory overload still happened, but his dad had perfected the granola bars with his help which meant he was eating all the time but also that he wasn't randomly feeling dizzy in the middle of the day. His dad still hovered...it was as if he was afraid to let Peter out of his sight, and Peter wasn't sure he blamed him. And if his dad wasn't with him, another member of the team was. Like they'd all made a pact never to leave him alone.

So on Saturday, Peter decided he had to get out of the tower, or he was going to go crazy. He found his dad in the kitchen making breakfast with Pepper, the two of them moving easily around one another as they cracked eggs and fried bacon, just enough for the three of them, which meant the team wouldn't be joining them. "Hey, Pete." His dad greeted, glancing up as he pulled the pan off the stove. You want to set the table?"

"Sure." Peter opened the cabinet, pulling out three plates and then fishing in the silverware drawer for forks and knives.

"How are you feeling?" Pepper asked, and Peter could feel both of their eyes on him as he set the table, grabbing napkins from another drawer and folding them by the plates.

"Fine." They were still watching, but neither questioned him further. He waited until they were all seated and eating before speaking. "So, um...dad?"

His dad chewed and swallowed his eggs before looking up at Peter, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"

"I was wondering if...uh…" He didn't know why this would be difficult. It wasn't like his dad was super strict or anything. He let Peter do pretty much anything he wanted on the weekends, as long as it was within reason and he was home by eleven. But he hadn't been out of the tower since getting sick and his dad had been so worried...still, he had to leave sometime. "If I could go over to Ned's today." He finally got out, staring down at his plate instead of at his father.

There was a long enough pause that Peter finally looked up, worried when he saw his dad staring down at his own plate as if deep in thought. "I don't see any harm in it." Pepper spoke up. "He's been feeling a lot better and he can take some granola bars with him. Plus you can be at Ned's apartment in a few minutes if he needs you."

Pepper wasn't the deciding vote, though. His dad was, and the man still didn't really look convinced. Then he looked up, meeting Peter's eyes for a moment before softening. "Yeah, that's fine, Pete. Did his parents say it was okay?"

"Yeah! His dad has to work and his mom said it's fine." He told him, eating faster and making the man chuckle.

"Don't choke, kid. You have time to chew your food." His dad pushed the water glass closer, shaking his head a little as Peter took a drink. "You want a ride?"

"No, it's okay. I can take the subway." The chance to get out on his own again and stretch his legs was too good to pass up, and his dad nodded.

"Alright, Pete."

When breakfast was over, Peter started to clear the table, but his dad waved him off, rolling his eyes. "Go on." He told him with a grin, laughing when Peter threw his arms around him before taking off towards his bedroom to get dressed.

"Thanks, dad!" He called, sprinting to his room, changing into jeans and a hoodie, then stuffed his backpack with his physics textbook, a printout of a new Lego spaceship he wanted to try to build, and a handful of those granola bars. Then, taking off towards the elevator, he found his dad waiting for him with a grin, arms open to pull him close.

"You have your wallet?"

"Yeah!" He told his dad's shoulder where his face was pressed.

"Phone?"

"Mhm."

"Granola bars?"

"Yep!" His dad pulled away with a smile, patting him on the back.

"Alright buddy. Call if you need me. Be careful."

"I will, Dad!" He called. "Love you. See you later!" And then he was in the elevator, then out the door and sprinting towards the stairs leading down to the subway platform, hood drawn tight over his face. No one ever really bothered him, and his dad had kept him away from the press thankfully, so he didn't have to worry about people trying to take his picture or follow him around or anything like his dad sometimes did.

He put his earbuds in, turning his music on but quickly turning it down when it was too loud. For a second he worried that the loud noise would trigger another migraine, but thankfully, one didn't show up, so he was able to sit in his seat on the subway, jumping off the train at his stop, then hurried up the stairs as he texted Ned that he was on his way.

The scream was faint, but it stopped him in his tracks.

Pulling his earbuds out and stuffing his phone in his pocket, he turned hesitantly towards the scream, then glanced around. No one else seemed to have noticed. He knew he should stay out of it...call the cops. Or even better, call his dad. Iron Man saved people. That was his job. But Peter was finally allowed out of the tower.

So he started walking toward it, pulling the drawstrings of his hoodie tight and hurrying toward the alley that the scream had come from. It was all quiet…but as soon as he stepped into the dim alley, peering around a dumpster, he saw them. Two men in front of a young woman, probably a few years older than him, one pinning her to the wall, the other going through a purse.

He stepped forward before he really had a chance to think about what he was doing. "Hey! Pick on someone your own size!" He snapped, knowing that made no sense. They were all about the same size. Still...it sounded kind of witty.

The man holding the purse glanced up at him while the woman attempted another scream around the other muggers hand that was pressed to her mouth. "Get lost, kid." The man with the purse told him almost lazily.

But of course, Peter couldn't do that. He started to pull out his phone...to warn them that he could have Iron Man himself there in less than five minutes...but then he remembered boxing with Steve. He was strong now...as strong as Captain America. So he took another step forward, hoping his hoodie hid his face enough that they wouldn't be too sure of how old he was...or be able to identify him. "Let her go." He ordered, strolling forward, hands in fists. At the ready.

"Or what?" The one either he purse asked, and Peter finally got close enough to reach out and grab the purse, moving fast enough that the man couldn't stop him.

"You know, that really doesn't go with your outfit." He told the guy, dodging when the fist came at him. It happened fast...the man seemed to pull the knife out of nowhere but Peter's weird new sense was going off, warning him every time it got too close.

Then the other guy joined it. "Run!" He shouted at the woman, pointing to her purse on the floor and hitting one of the muggers with a right hook that knocked him flat.

He stayed down.

Peter absently wished he had a way to tie him up before the knife got him, slicing across his side, but not too deep, then came at him again. He kicked, flinching when he heard something crunch, and the man went down, grabbing desperately at his leg and screaming. Too hard...he'd kicked him too hard!

Suddenly there was the sound of sirens, and Peter acted as if on instinct, grabbing the brick wall and climbing as quickly as he could, laying flat on the roof he found himself on and gasping for breath. He'd just stopped two muggers...then climbed to the roof of a building. He'd saved someone. Him! Peter Parker!

There was no way he could tell his dad about this! He'd have a fit! His dad never let him do anything dangerous like this. But something had occurred to Peter while he'd been fighting those guys...he had superpowers now. He could help people, just like his dad. He could be a superhero! A real one, just like his dad!

Not that his dad could ever know…but he knew someone who could.

Pulling out his phone, he shot a quick text to Ned.

"Dude, the craziest thing just happened! I'll be right there and then I have to show you something!"

The End

Thank you so much for reading!