Chapter Text
Peter woke up to the sound of his alarm, a soft groan escaping his lips as he rubbed his eyes. It was just another school day—or so it seemed. He stretched, feeling the familiar pull of his muscles as he stood up and padded toward the bathroom. After a quick shower and slipping into his favourite hoodie and jeans, he hurried downstairs, already catching the smell of breakfast.
"Morning, Pep," Peter greeted his father’s fiance as he entered the kitchen, his voice still a little sleepy. Pepper was at the stove, her back to him, but she glanced over her shoulder with a soft smile.
"Good morning, Peter," she replied, flipping a pancake onto a plate. "Are you ready for school?"
Peter nodded as he grabbed a glass of orange juice. He watched Pepper out of the corner of his eye—he’d noticed recently that her movements seemed a little slower, more careful. Peter’s heightened senses had already picked up on something. As he sipped his juice, a faint, odd sound caught his attention. It was like a second rhythm, soft and barely there, blending with her own heartbeat but slightly offbeat. Peter frowned, his senses zoning in for a moment. Shaking his head, Peter dismissed it. Must be hearing things.
Tony walked in a second later, glancing at Peter. “Hey, kid. Heard you’ve got a busy day at school,” he teased, ruffling Peter’s hair as he grabbed some coffee.
Peter ducked, smirking as he fixed his hair. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve got a field trip to MoMA today, so that should be cool.”
Tony raised an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee. “The Museum of Modern Art? Fancy. You gonna go all ‘art critic’ on them or just enjoy the trip?”
Peter grinned. “I dunno, maybe I’ll channel my inner Steve Rogers.”
Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, Cap and his doodles. Oh, speaking of Stevie,” Tony added, leaning against the counter, “he and your Uncle Buck are picking you up after school today. Something about catching the latest superhero movie-”
Peter's eyes lit up. "Yup! We're finally seeing the new Star Wars movie. It’s all about the origin of Han Solo!" He practically bounced on his feet, excitement evident in his expression. “I mean, I have to keep dragging them into the modern world. I can’t let them fall behind!”
Tony chuckled at Peter's enthusiasm. “Scott was talking to Happy about that movie the other day. He said there was this little alien creature that sounded just like him and Happy looked like he was five seconds away from punching the ant into the nearest wall.”
Pepper turned from the stove, placing a plate of pancakes on the table. “Alright, enough plotting, boys. Eat your breakfast before you’re late.”
Peter gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, Pep,” he said warmly before turning to Tony, who leaned down for a hug as well.
“Be good, bambino,” Tony murmured, giving him a squeeze before stepping back. “And no funny business.”
Peter grinned at him. "Always!.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “A little too much enthusiasm there, Pete. What, you trying to skip out on something?”
Peter blinked innocently, taking a bite of his toast. “Who, me? No, nothing like that.”
Pepper’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You better not skip school for spider-business one more time.”
Peter smirked but didn’t answer, trying to hide his guilty expression. He’d hoped to sneak his suit with him, maybe talk Uncle Bucky into letting him do a quick patrol after the movie. Steve would never go for it—he’d probably give Peter a whole lecture on responsibility. But Bucky? He might be more flexible.
Tony caught the shift in Peter’s expression and gave a knowing sigh. “Look, no patrol today, got it? You've already patrolled too much this week, and I want you to focus on school work. And don’t think about convincing Bucky to let you. Steve would have my head if he found out you even tried.”
Peter just smirked as he grabbed his backpack and headed out the door, already planning his next move, “Bye dad.” Sure, no patrol today. But maybe if he played his cards right, Uncle Bucky would look the other way after the movie.
Peter’s knee bounced as he stared out the bus window, his mind drifting. The city whizzed by, and he found himself grinning at the thought of the new Star Wars movie. He could already imagine Steve and Bucky’s reactions to the sci-fi epic, especially after all the times he’d dragged them into the modern world.
Ned, sitting beside him, nudged him with an elbow. “Hey, you patrolling today?”
Peter chuckled, shaking his head. “Not today, Ned. I promised Dad I wouldn’t get into any trouble.”
“Pfft, sure.” Ned raised an eyebrow. “You always say that, and then next thing I know you’re swinging off buildings and taking down bad guys.”
Peter shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Gotta save the galaxy, you know.
Ned raised an eyebrow. “Saving the galaxy? Since when are you a character in Star-Wars. Speaking of which, are you excited for the new movie?”
“Of course! I’m going with Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky after school. They’re like, super excited to learn about modern culture, you know?”
Ned chuckled, shaking his head. “You mean they need you to keep them from turning into fossils?”
“Exactly! It’s a full-time job,” Peter said, grinning. “But I’ll probably try to squeeze in some patrol afterward if I can. You know how it is.”
Ned leaned in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “You want me in the chair? I’ll have your back, man.”
Before Peter could respond, his Spider-Sense tingled. That familiar buzz at the back of his skull—a warning. His head whipped toward the window, eyes narrowing as he saw a strange shadow in the sky. Something was coming. Something big.
“Ned,” Peter whispered, his voice urgent now, “can you cause a distraction?”
Ned’s eyes widened in excitement. “Dude, is it happening?!”
Peter nodded, already pulling his phone out, texting Tony at lightning speed: Dad. There’s something coming. I’m heading in. He didn’t wait for a reply before slipping out of his seat and heading to the back of the bus.
Ned, ever the wingman, stood up and shouted, “We’re all gonna die!” The entire bus erupted into chaos, and Peter used the distraction to slip out of sight, ducking down as he quickly changed into his suit.
Seconds later, he was out of the emergency exit, web-swinging toward the strange circular ship in the sky. His heart raced as he got closer, already knowing Tony would be pissed when he saw him. But Peter didn’t care. Something big was happening, and he wasn’t about to sit this one out.
When he landed on the ship, he wasn’t surprised to see Tony already in his suit, flying toward the alien craft with that familiar look of determination on his face.
“Peter!” Tony’s voice rang out through the suit’s comms. “What did I just tell you this morning?”
Peter winced. “I know, I know! But I couldn’t just sit there, Dad!”
Tony groaned, but there was no time to argue. The ship had landed, and strange creatures—massive, terrifying—were already spilling out onto the streets.
“Alright, kid,” Tony said, his voice tight with frustration. “You fight, but you stay close to me, got it?”
Peter’s heart soared. “Got it!”
Together, they swung and flew into the fray, taking down the creatures with a seamless rhythm that only a father and son could pull off. Peter’s webs shot out, yanking weapons out of the aliens’ hands while Tony blasted them from the sky. For a brief moment, Peter forgot all about the tension earlier. This—fighting alongside his dad—was what he lived for. They were unstoppable.
Peter saw a guy falling, about to hit the ground and fired a sticky line that attached to him. “Got ya,” he yelled as he tried to swing the guy away. But then Peter’s Spider-Sense flared, sharp and urgent. Something was wrong—really wrong.
He barely had time to turn his head before he noticed a massive alien ship powering up above them. A blue beam of light had latched onto the civilian and was trying to pull him up, along-side him. Peter clung to the metal pole with one hand held firmly onto the probably terrified civilian. The pull intensified, and the civilian’s body was jerked upward. Peter’s web strained as he tried to keep them grounded, but the beam was too strong. The metal pole he was holding onto started groaning under the pressure.
“No, no, no!” Peter cried out, desperately trying to shoot another web, but the pull was too much. The pole snapped with a loud crack, sending him flying into the air. He spiraled out of control, his grip slipping, and before he could catch himself, he was yanked upward into the beam.
“Uh, Dad?!” Peter shouted into his comm as the ground shrank beneath him. “I’m being beamed up!”
“Peter!” Tony’s voice was full of panic, his Iron Man suit blasting forward in an instant.
Peter tumbled through the air, his heart pounding as the ground rushed up toward him. He twisted mid-fall, desperately firing webs toward anything solid, but he was too far from the ship, too far from the street below.
“Hold on, kid! I got you!” Tony’s voice rang out again, and in a split second, Tony was beside him, arms outstretched. But instead of grabbing him, Tony tapped a quick sequence on his wrist.
Before Peter knew what was happening, something metal slammed into his body—a familiar feeling as a new suit wrapped around him. The Iron-Spider suit.
Peter gasped as the nanotech spread over his body, encasing him in a sleek, armoured version of his usual Spider-Man suit. His fall slowed, and he felt himself stabilising mid-air as the four mechanical spider legs extended from his back, balancing him.
Peter blinked, adjusting to the new sensation of the suit’s extra appendages. “Whoa! This is—this is awesome!” He exclaimed, his excitement momentarily eclipsing the danger they were in.
Tony hovered beside him, his face hidden behind his Iron Man helmet. “Yeah, yeah, I knew you’d like it,” Tony muttered, trying to keep the moment light. “But no time to play, kid. Get back to the ground. Now.”
Peter glanced at Tony, feeling the weight of what his dad was saying. “Dad, I can help. I—”
“You are helping, by not being here,” Tony interrupted, his tone firm but laced with something Peter hated hearing—fear. “This isn’t just some patrol in Queens, Pete. We’re talking about something bigger—way bigger.”
“I know that!” Peter shot back, frustration bubbling up. “That’s why I can’t just sit this one out.”
Tony sighed heavily through the comms, and Peter could practically hear the conflict in his voice. “You’re not sitting it out,” Tony finally said, his voice low. “You’re going home.”
And with that, Peter’s suit beeped.
“What the—?” Peter barely had time to react as his new Iron-Spider suit locked around him, securing his arms and legs in place. He struggled against it, but the suit was designed to keep him safe—designed by Tony. “No! No way, Dad, you can’t do this!”
“I’m sorry, kid,” Tony’s voice was softer now. “But I’m not losing you.”
Before Peter could protest again, he felt the suit shift, launching him backward. He was ejected from the ship, the Iron-Spider’s mechanisms sending him plummeting toward the city. His heart pounded as he hurtled through the sky, panic rising in his chest. Not again.
He couldn’t let this happen. Not now. Not when everything was on the line.
Peter’s fingers scrambled against the suit’s interface, frantically trying to override the command. The ground was getting closer, but he wasn’t going down. He couldn’t go down.
With a final burst of effort, Peter managed to break through Tony’s lockdown. The suit released its hold on him, and Peter quickly shot out a webline, swinging back up toward the ship.
His breath was ragged now, the thin air making it harder to focus. But he couldn't stop. He wouldn’t. I’m not going home, he repeated to himself, the mantra pushing him forward, propelling him across the ship’s hull as it continued to rise higher and higher.
The ship groaned beneath him, and for a split second, Peter’s Spider-Sense blared in his head, sharper than ever. He flattened himself against the hull just as a massive blast of energy shot from the side, scorching the space just inches from where he’d been.
“Whoa!” Peter gasped, scrambling to keep his grip on the ship. He looked up to see one of those alien freaks from earlier, standing on the deck of the ship. Its face twisted in an ugly sneer, and in its clawed hand was some sort of glowing energy weapon that hummed ominously.
Peter ducked again as another shot flew toward him. “Okay, okay, I get it! You don’t want me here either!” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet and dodging yet another blast.
He fired a web at the weapon, yanking it out of the alien’s grasp with one smooth motion before somersaulting over it, landing a solid kick to its chest. The creature stumbled back, but Peter didn’t wait for a second round. He was on the move again, crawling along the hull as fast as he could, each step more difficult as the ship broke through the last layers of the atmosphere.
Come on, come on, Peter urged himself, the air thinning even more now. He needed to get inside the ship, fast. His lungs burned, the suit’s filters doing their best to keep him breathing, but it wouldn’t be enough if they breached the vacuum of space.
As he clung to the ship’s side, he saw an opening—a hatch door slightly ajar, just ahead of him. He didn’t think twice. Firing a web at the edge of the opening, Peter yanked himself forward, slipping through the crack and landing inside the ship’s dark interior with a thud.
For a moment, he just lay there, catching his breath. The noise from outside—the roar of the engines, the alien screeches, the wind—was muffled here. It was almost peaceful.
Almost.
Peter rolled onto his feet, the Iron-Spider suit’s legs shifting and adjusting to the narrow corridors. His senses were still on high alert. He wasn’t alone. The ship might be quiet here, but he knew danger was everywhere.
“Okay, Spidey. Time to find out where this thing is headed,” Peter whispered to himself, keeping low as he moved deeper into the ship’s maze of hallways.
The flickering lights overhead cast long, eerie shadows as Peter crept forward, every sense on edge. His thoughts raced, but one thing stood out clearly in his mind: I’m staying. I’m seeing this through.