Peter wanted to leave. He didn't want to be in that room anymore. He didn't want to see May's body on the floor, surrounded with blood. He didn't want the police officers there, asking him questions, even though they were gentle and kind. He didn't want to think about any of it.

He just wished he could go back in time and undo it. He wished he could disappear. He wished it would all just be over. He even wished that he had died instead of May. But nothing ever came of wishes.

Tony could tell that Peter didn't want to be there. And he was about to take him home to the Avengers compound when he was interrupted by one of the police officers.

"You're sixteen, right?" he said, frowning at Peter. The kid nodded.

"And she was your last living relative?" Another nod.

"Did your aunt say anything about who would take care of you in the unlikely event that she passed?" Peter shook his head. "She didn't have anyone designated."

"Ok. In that case, we're going to have to find you a guardi-"

"We'll take him," Tony said flatly, glancing around at the other Avengers. "He's one of us now."

Hope flickered into Peter's empty heart. Did they really want him?

The police officer nodded hesitantly. "Unfortunately, since he's a minor, he can't just go with you unless he's adopted or-"

"Then I'll adopt him," Tony interrupted again. "I'll get my lawyers and I'll sign whatever paperwork," he waved his hand nonchalantly, "but I'm going to take him home now." He spoke confidently, with a tone that implied that whatever he said was definite and final. Peter was glad for that, since he didn't "He's been through a lot tonight." Tony put his hand comfortingly on Peter's back and the kid melted to the touch. He let his mentor gently lead him out, and thoughts echoed in his mind. Does he really want me? Do they really want me? He felt like he was floating. His whole body was shaking and he felt like he was watching himself walk out of the room.

Peter sat on the couch hesitantly. It would take him a little while to get used to living here, to making it his home. Tony sat down next to him and looked at him, his arm resting on the back of the sofa. He moved his mouth slightly as though he were sucking on a marble as he tried to come up with something to say to the kid who was sitting quietly on the edge of the soft sofa, occupying himself by absentmindedly playing with the loose threads on a ripped part of his Spider-Man suit.

Luckily for Tony, he didn't have to think for long. Peter quietly said, "Do you really want me?" His voice sounded so broken, so unbelieving that he was deserving of love, that the sound of it elicited a pang within Tony. He had never been one for physical contact, but he suddenly wanted to hug the kid and tell him that everything would be OK and that he not only wanted him but he needed him.

"Of course," Tony responded. "Why wouldn't we?"

Peter let out a hollow, humorless laugh. "Why would you?"

Tony swallowed. He didn't know how to answer the question, because the question had no answer. He couldn't imagine not wanting Peter there. "Because… you… are important to me." For one of the first times in his life, Tony was struggling with his words. "I've changed, since I met you, and I think you know that. You're like a son to me, and now I know what it's like to care about someone in that way. And I wouldn't give that up for anything." Peter forced a smile, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to force their way out of his throat.

He swallowed. "Thank you, Mr. Stark-"

"Tony."

"Thank you. For everything."

And Tony gently put his arm around Peter's shoulders and Peter sunk into his embrace, his eyes filling up with tears. Peter wasn't OK. He never would be. But at least he had someone to take that journey with. At least he had a family. And he was home.