Not So Friendly Anymore

(Hey everyone I hope everyone is doin well, Sorry this chapter took a while, I've been busy as the space marine 2 update came out and marvel rivals was released.

So yeah, those two have taken up most of my free time.

Sorry for the wait hope you enjoy the chapter. Merry Christmas 🎄)

---

The embassy was unnaturally quiet, save for the soft hum of distant voices and muted footsteps in the halls. The light cast long shadows across the room where Peter sat, utterly still, his gaze fixed on nothing at all. He was perched on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, arms limp at his sides, like the weight of everything was holding him down.

Silver Sable stood a few feet away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, watching him with worried eyes. She had tried everything, soft words, steady touches, even just sitting in silence beside him. But Peter hadn't spoken. He hadn't moved. He was trapped in whatever storm raged in his mind, and it terrified her to see him like this.

So she called for help.

---

Susan Storm arrived first, stepping through the embassy doors with quiet determination. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, her expression unreadable, though her eyes betrayed the heavy worry she carried. Behind her followed Franklin and Valeria, two small figures who moved with a shared sense of unease, though Franklin's face was clouded with concern while Valeria's was carefully composed.

"Where is he?" Susan asked softly as Sable met them in the hallway.

Sable didn't answer right away. She only turned on her heel, leading them through the quiet halls, each step echoing faintly against the polished floors. When they reached the door, Sable paused for a moment, looking back at Susan. There were no words to prepare her, so Sable simply pushed the door open.

Inside, Peter sat exactly as she had left him, still, quiet, small.

Susan's heart cracked at the sight. 'This isn't Peter,' she thought. The boy she knew, the man she loved, was someone who always found a way to stand up, to keep going, no matter what the world threw at him. He was strong. He was resilient. And yet here he was... shattered.

Franklin and Valeria exchanged a look, and without hesitation, they both stepped forward.

Valeria, the more confident of the two, knelt down in front of him first. She placed her tiny hand on his knee, the touch gentle but grounding. "Hi, Dad," she whispered softly, her voice barely audible. "We're here."

Peter didn't move at first.

Franklin followed her lead, stepping up to Peter's side and placing his small hand on Peter's arm. "Dad?" Franklin said, his voice trembling, but full of love. "It's us."

For a long moment, there was nothing, just silence and the faintest movement of Peter's uneven breathing. But then, something shifted. His head rose a fraction of an inch, and his gaze moved, slowly, haltingly, toward the two children in front of him. His eyes were hollow, rimmed with red, but they blinked now, as if struggling to see through the fog.

"...You two..." His voice broke, raw and hoarse, like it hadn't been used in hours.

Franklin nodded, offering a small, shaky smile. "Yeah, Dad. We're here."

Something in Peter cracked then, a choked noise escaping his throat. He didn't even realize he was reaching for them until Franklin and Valeria were already climbing onto the bed. The moment they wrapped their arms around him, Peter broke, clinging to them like they were the only things keeping him from shattering entirely.

Sable let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her hand pressing to her chest as she stepped closer. Susan followed, silently kneeling beside them.

Peter's body trembled violently as he clutched the children, his face buried against Valeria's small shoulder. Franklin rested his head against Peter's arm, murmuring softly. "It's okay, Dad. We've got you. We're not going anywhere."

Peter's breath hitched, a sob finally breaking free.

Sable moved to sit on the bed beside him, her hand finding his back again. She rubbed slow, steady circles as she watched the grief unravel him in waves, silent tears streaming down his face. Susan placed a gentle hand on Peter's other shoulder, but said nothing. She knew words couldn't reach him right now, not when the floodgates had finally burst.

For a while, the only sound in the room was Peter's quiet, broken sobs. He clung to Franklin and Valeria, the symbiote slithering along his arms like it didn't know what to do, mirroring its host's agony.

Sable tightened her grip around him, her voice soft though it wasn't much more than a whisper. "Let it out, Peter. I'm here. We're here."

Peter's sobs grew harder, wracking his entire body as he buried himself in the embrace of the only family he could trust to hold him right now. Valeria stroked his hair gently, while Franklin hugged his side tighter, whispering soft reassurances.

"We love you."

"You're not alone."

"We're here, Dad."

Time lost all meaning again. Minutes stretched into an eternity as Peter let himself break down, letting go of the pain he'd held onto since the moment Fury handed him the file.

And finally, when the worst of it had passed, when his breathing had slowed to shaky, uneven gasps, Peter spoke.

"They told me," he whispered, his voice thick with exhaustion and grief. "About my parents..."

Sable's hand stilled for a moment before resuming its gentle motion across his back. Susan and the children sat silently, letting Peter speak.

"They were spies," Peter said, his voice cracking like glass. The words seemed to burn as they left him, each one dragging a part of him along with it. "Super spies. My parents weren't just Richard and Mary Parker... they worked for SHIELD. And they—" His throat hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut as if he could will away the truth that was tearing him apart. "They were assassinated. By Red Skull."

Susan's breath caught in her throat. The shock hit her hard, but she didn't dare speak, didn't dare interrupt as Peter fought to get the words out.

He didn't look up. His head remained bowed, his hands limp against his knees as though even the effort of holding himself upright was too much.

"And Fury..." The name caught in Peter's throat, like it hurt to say it out loud. His lips trembled as the words poured out, raw and broken. "Fury knew. He knew everything." His voice cracked violently as his hands twitched, curling weakly into trembling fists. "The bastard, he, he's my grandfather. My grandfather!"

Sable stilled beside him, her wide eyes snapping to Susan in disbelief. But neither woman spoke. Neither dared to breathe as Peter kept going, the floodgates open now, the storm raging unchecked.

Peter shook his head, his teeth clenched as more tears slipped free. "He watched me, he watched me my entire life. He kept his secrets and never once... never once told me. Not about them. Not about who they really were. Not about himself." His voice turned hoarse, heavy with bitterness and betrayal. "All those years. And I didn't know."

A shuddering breath escaped him, the sound like it had been ripped from deep within his chest. His fists clenched tighter against his knees, his nails biting into his skin through the fabric of his suit. "And there's more," Peter whispered, the words trembling on his tongue. "Because apparently, it's not enough. It's never enough."

Sable reached for him, but Peter continued, his voice shaking as he finally looked up, his hollow, bloodshot eyes locking with hers, then Susan's.

"I have a sister."

Susan blinked, the words almost knocking her off balance. "A, a what?"

"A sister," Peter repeated, his voice nearly breaking. "Her name's Teresa. Fury knew about her too. Shield raised her. Fury raised her. He had a granddaughter the whole damn time, and instead of telling me... instead of letting us be a family..." Peter's face twisted, and his head dropped forward again as the tears he'd tried to hold back spilled freely. "I didn't even know she existed. I didn't know."

The weight of those words crushed him, folding his body forward as though his grief alone might snap him in half. His shoulders shook violently as he sat there, trembling under the force of everything, his parents' deaths, the betrayal of Fury's silence, the sister he'd never known, and the life that had been stolen from him piece by piece.

Sable didn't hesitate. She moved closer, pulling Peter against her side as her arm came around his shoulders, holding him firmly. "Peter," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You don't have to—"

"I didn't know," Peter repeated faintly, his voice barely a whisper now, as though he were trying to convince himself that it wasn't his fault. That he couldn't have done anything differently. "I didn't know."

Franklin and Valeria didn't stop, their concern for Peter outweighing everything else. Franklin clung to Peter's side, his small arms tightening around Peter's forearm like he could physically hold the broken pieces of him together. His cheek pressed firmly against Peter's arm, and he whispered soft words into the fabric of Peter's suit, barely audible but full of love. "We're here, Dad. It's okay. We're here."

Valeria nestled herself deeper into Peter's arms, her small frame pressing against his chest as she clung tightly to him. Her tiny hands gripped his suit, her head resting just beneath his chin, as though her presence alone could steady him. "We're not leaving you," she whispered, her voice soft but unwavering, full of quiet determination. "We're staying right here, no matter what."

The word struck something deep within Peter, and he choked on a ragged breath as fresh tears escaped him. Slowly, hesitantly, his trembling arms reached out. He pulled Franklin and Valeria close, cradling them like they were the only solid ground he had left in the world.

Sable watched silently, her chest tight, as Peter's body trembled violently under the weight of everything he'd been forced to endure. She reached out, her hand finding the back of his head as she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss against his temple. "I've got you, Peter," she whispered, her voice soft but resolute. "We've got you. You don't have to carry this alone anymore."

Susan moved closer too, settling on the other side of him. Her hand came to rest gently on his shoulder, her voice steady despite the emotions she felt swirling inside her. "We're here, Peter. And we're not leaving."

Peter didn't answer, not with words. He just held Franklin and Valeria tighter, letting himself lean into the warmth of their small arms and Sable's embrace.

For the first time in hours, maybe in years, Peter let himself grieve.

He grieved for his parents, whose lives had been stolen before he could ever really know them. He grieved for the sister he'd never met, the family that had been kept from him. He grieved for the lies, for the years of silence, for the truths that had been buried until they shattered him. And he grieved for himself, because no one should have to bear the weight he carried alone.

But in that moment, as the tears fell and the grief poured out of him, he wasn't alone. Franklin and Valeria stayed in his arms, whispering soft reassurances into his chest. Sable held him like a lifeline, her presence steady, unwavering. Susan sat beside him, her touch grounding, her quiet support speaking louder than words ever could.

The storm inside Peter hadn't passed, not yet. But for the first time, he wasn't weathering it alone. And in the broken silence of that room, surrounded by those who loved him, Peter Parker allowed himself to begin to heal.

---

Central Park, Early Afternoon

The sun hung low in the sky, warm rays spilling through the canopy of leaves as Peter walked quietly through the park. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance, the sounds of children laughing and playing carried on the breeze, and for once, the city felt far away. It was the calm Peter didn't know he needed.

They'd chosen a secluded spot, tucked away from prying eyes. A bench sat beneath a massive oak tree, and nearby, Franklin and Valeria chased each other through the grass, their laughter echoing faintly. Susan sat on the other end of the bench, her arms loosely folded, while Sable stayed close to Peter, her hand brushing against his in a quiet show of support.

Peter stood a few paces away, his hands in his pockets, staring off at nothing in particular. His shoulders were tense, his head bowed as if the weight of everything he carried still clung to him. Sable watched him carefully, but she didn't rush him.

Finally, Peter exhaled, the sound more of a sigh than a breath. "I don't even know what to feel," he admitted, his voice soft but clear. "Nick Fury. My Grandfather." The word tasted strange on his tongue, like something foreign that didn't quite fit.

Susan shifted slightly, her gaze full of understanding. "It's a lot to process."

Peter let out a bitter laugh. "That's an understatement. The man spent years keeping secrets from me, treating me like a wildcard or a problem he had to solve. All that time, he knew. He knew who I was to him." His fists clenched briefly before he forced himself to relax. "And he just let me go on... in the dark."

Sable stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on his arm. "That doesn't make what he did right," she said softly. "But maybe... maybe he thought he was protecting you."

Peter's lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe. But I don't think I can forgive him for it. Not yet." He turned back toward the bench, his eyes softening as he glanced at Franklin and Valeria playing in the distance. "Then there's Teresa."

Susan nodded, following his gaze. "Your sister."

The word was strange, too. Peter shook his head faintly, as if it still didn't feel real. "A sister I never knew I had. Teresa Parker." He let the name hang in the air for a moment, like he was testing it. "Shield raised her. Fury raised her. And I, I've never even met her."

"You still can," Sable said quietly. "You still should."

Peter looked down, the conflicted look returning to his face. "What if she doesn't want to meet me? What if... I don't know. I screw it up? I've lost so much already."

Susan offered him a kind smile. "Peter, you're one of the most loyal, caring people I've ever met. You deserve to know your sister, and she deserves the chance to know you."

"And us!" Franklin's voice piped up suddenly as he ran over, slightly breathless, with Valeria close behind him. He grinned up at Peter, his excitement infectious. "We want to meet her, too! Right, Val?"

Valeria nodded, her arms crossing with confidence. "Of course we do. She's our aunt, isn't she? That makes her family. And family sticks together."

Peter blinked, surprised at how easily they accepted something that felt so complicated in his mind. He looked down at the two kids, their wide, eager eyes looking up at him with nothing but hope.

Franklin smiled again and nudged Peter's leg gently. "Besides, if she's anything like you, she's gotta be cool."

Peter's throat tightened for a moment, the words hitting him deeper than he expected. He reached down, ruffling Franklin's hair and managing a small, genuine smile. "You two are something else, you know that?"

"We know," Valeria said smugly, before softening her expression. "You're going to be okay, Dad. And meeting her? That's just the next step. We'll be there with you."

Sable stepped beside him, sliding her arm through his as she added, "You don't have to face this alone."

Susan stood as well, smiling warmly. "They're right, Peter. When you're ready, we'll help you however you need."

Peter looked between all of them, Susan's understanding, Sable's steady support, Franklin and Valeria's unwavering optimism, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn't feel entirely alone.

He let out a long breath, his shoulders finally relaxing, just a little. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll meet her. I want to meet her."

Franklin cheered, throwing his arms in the air. "Yes! Best family reunion ever!"

Valeria rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, grabbing Franklin's hand to pull him back toward the open grass. "Come on, let them talk."

As the kids ran off again, Peter turned his gaze to the sky, watching the sunlight filter through the leaves. The conflict inside him was still there, but it wasn't as heavy as before.

Sable leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice gentle. "One step at a time."

Peter nodded, his voice quiet but resolute. "Yeah. One step at a time."

---

Skyscraper, Afternoon

The sun hung low on the horizon, its golden light spilling across the city, stretching long shadows across rooftops. Peter stood silently at the edge of a skyscraper, his silhouette dark against the vibrant skyline. The wind tugged at him, carrying with it the distant hum of New York's life far below. The symbiote rippled against his skin, shifting like an extension of his thoughts as he stared upward.

Susan and Sable had both wanted to come, their concern clear in every word they spoke, but Peter had stopped them.

"This is something I need to do alone," he'd said quietly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

High above the clouds, almost unreal in its stillness, loomed the SHIELD helicarrier, an imposing silhouette against the fading blue sky. Peter's jaw tightened slightly. Too high. Far too high to swing to.

The decision came to him wordlessly, instinct guiding action. The symbiote responded.

From his back, the living darkness rippled and stretched, twisting and unfurling into enormous wings, great leathery structures resembling those of a bat, lined with jagged, sinewy edges. They extended outward, vast and menacing, casting a shadow that loomed impossibly large across the rooftop.

Peter crouched low, muscles tensing.

Then he launched himself into the sky.

The force of the leap cracked the concrete beneath him, but Peter paid it no mind. The wings beat once, twice, with immense power, slicing through the air. Each stroke propelled him higher, faster, until the buildings below were nothing more than a blur of grey and glass.

The wind roared past his ears, the city falling away beneath him, but Peter didn't look back. His eyes stayed fixed on the helicarrier as it grew closer and closer with each beat of his symbiotic wings.

The city blurred beneath him as he soared upward, the symbiote wings beating with powerful strokes that cut through the air. Peter angled his body forward, pushing himself faster, higher, toward the waiting carrier above. He could hear the faint rush of wind past his ears, but his mind was elsewhere, focused only on what lay ahead.

Time to face Fury.

---

Peter touched down hard on the helicarrier's deck, the black wings retracting with a wet slither as he straightened. The symbiote settled back into its usual form, sliding across his body like rippling tar, leaving him in his familiar black suit.

Around him, SHIELD agents froze mid-step, their faces paling as they saw him. Some whispered in alarm, others scrambled to look busy, their gazes darting nervously toward the scarred remains of the helicarrier where Peter had torn through it in rage hours earlier.

He ignored them. This wasn't about them.

Peter pushed through the large steel doors and into the heart of the helicarrier. The central command was just as busy, though the hum of conversation dulled to silence as he walked in. His sharp, confident strides echoed ominously, and agents visibly shrank back at his presence.

The last time he'd been here, he'd been a storm of fury. The damage he'd caused was still visible, sections of the walls and floor had been hastily patched up, monitors replaced. But Peter wasn't here to destroy anything today.

He was here for answers.

At the center of the room stood Nick Fury. He looked as he always did, tall, commanding, and utterly unshaken. A bandage covered part of his cheek, and there was a stillness to him that suggested he'd been waiting for this moment.

Beside him, standing quietly, was a female agent with familiar brown hair tied back into a ponytail. She was carefully applying fresh bandages to Fury's face, her movements gentle but efficient. Something about her posture, the way she lingered even after Fury waved her off, gave Peter pause.

Fury's good eye locked onto Peter the second he entered. "You're back," he said calmly.

Peter didn't stop walking until he was mere feet away. "I'm back."

The woman glanced at Peter, her expression a mixture of nervousness and... hope? She hesitated when Fury waved her off again, this time more firmly. But she didn't leave.

Fury ignored it for now. His gaze stayed on Peter. "You feeling better, kid?"

Peter's jaw tensed, his lips twitching as he considered the question. "Somewhat," he muttered. "That was a lot you dropped on me."

Fury let out a low grunt, half acknowledgment, half understanding. "Yeah. It was."

A heavy silence followed. Peter glanced briefly at the woman still standing beside Fury before looking back at him.

"I want to meet her," Peter said finally, his voice steady. "My sister."

The woman standing there stiffened.

Peter caught the reaction instantly, his brows furrowing as his gaze flicked to her once more. She shifted nervously, wringing her gloved hands, as though preparing herself for something. Slowly, she took a step forward, her brown ponytail swaying as she turned to face him fully.

"Peter..." she began softly, her voice shaking just a little. "I'm here."

Peter froze.

His eyes widened as the truth slammed into him like a freight train. His gaze darted over her, her dark brown hair, the same shade as his. The shape of her jaw, the subtle similarities to his father's features.

And her eyes.

Warm blue, soft and piercing all at once. Not like his father's or even Peter's, but like his mother's, eyes he'd seen in fading photographs and cherished memories long buried.

The world seemed to slow.

"You're... Teresa?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The woman, his sister, nodded. Her expression was a mixture of nerves and yearning, her hands still wringing at her sides as though unsure what to do. "Yeah," she said softly. "It's me."

Peter just stared at her, unblinking, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might tear through his ribs. Every detail of her face etched itself into his memory, each one falling into place like pieces of a puzzle he didn't know he was missing.

Teresa hesitated, her lips trembling as she took another cautious step forward. With a deep breath, she extended her hand. It was small and tentative, almost fragile.

"It's... it's nice to meet you," she whispered.

Peter stared at her outstretched hand for what felt like an eternity, his vision blurring at the edges. It was shaking.

'She's nervous,' he realized.

'She's scared I won't...'

And that was all it took.

Peter moved, his body acting on instinct, on need, before his mind could catch up. He ignored her hand and reached for her, grabbing her shoulders gently, his fingers shaking as they gripped her.

Teresa barely had time to react before Peter pulled her into his arms.

The hug was desperate and unsteady at first, his arms trembling as they wrapped around her, afraid that if he held her too tightly, she might disappear. But Teresa didn't pull away. She gasped softly at the contact, and then she was clinging to him, her arms wrapping tightly around his back, as though anchoring herself to him.

Peter's voice cracked as he whispered, his words muffled by emotion. "It's so nice to meet you, sis."

Teresa let out a shaky breath, her own tears spilling freely now as she clung to him. "You too, big brother," she choked out.

Fury said nothing, watching the two of them silently as they held onto each other like they'd never let go.

For Peter, it felt as though a piece of his heart he hadn't realized was missing had suddenly fallen into place. He held his baby sister close, tears streaming down his face as he let himself feel something other than anger or grief.

In this moment, he wasn't Spider-Man. He wasn't the dark figure who struck fear into others.

He was Peter Parker, big brother.

And he wasn't alone anymore.

After what felt like an eternity, Peter and Teresa finally separated, though neither let go completely. Peter's hands rested gently on her shoulders, his thumbs unconsciously brushing over the fabric of her SHIELD uniform. Teresa's arms stayed looped around his waist, almost as though she was afraid to let go, afraid he might vanish. They smiled through their tears, overwhelmed by the joy,and the quiet disbelief, of finally finding each other.

Peter's voice cracked slightly as he broke the silence. "I still... I still can't believe you're real." He let out a shaky laugh, brushing a hand through his hair as he blinked back the remnants of his tears. "Teresa... you don't know how much this means to me. After everything that's happened, I—" His throat tightened. "After I lost Ben and Kaine... I thought I was alone. I thought that was it for me. I never thought... I never thought I'd have family again."

Teresa tilted her head slightly, her expression soft but curious. "Ben and Kaine?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded, his voice growing steadier as he spoke. "They were my brothers. Well, clones technically, but that didn't matter to me. Ben was... he was the kind of guy everyone loved. Optimistic, kind, always trying to do the right thing. And Kaine... Kaine was rough around the edges, sure, but deep down, he cared more than anyone realized." His gaze fell, the weight of their loss still pressing against him after all these years. "I lost them both. And for the longest time, I thought that meant I didn't have anyone left."

Teresa smiled gently, a glimmer of warmth in her blue eyes. "You're not alone anymore, Peter. Not ever again."

Peter returned the smile, something easing in his chest, something that had been tight for far too long. Teresa hesitated for a beat before softly asking, "Do you think... they would've liked me?"

Peter blinked, startled by the question. But his answer was immediate, spoken with absolute certainty. "Are you kidding? Ben would've loved you. He would've taken you under his wing in seconds, probably spent half his time bragging about his 'amazing little sister.'" He smiled fondly at the thought before his lips quirked into a lopsided grin. "And Kaine? Kaine would've spoiled you rotten. He'd act like he was too gruff to care, but he'd probably spend every moment keeping you safe, whether you wanted him to or not."

Teresa let out a soft, breathy laugh, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I wish I could've met them."

Peter squeezed her shoulders gently. "They would've been lucky to know you, Teresa. Just like I am."

They stood there for a moment longer, soaking in the relief and happiness of finally finding family in each other. It was a fleeting warmth, one Peter hadn't realized he'd been longing for, like sunlight breaking through a storm.

Eventually, though, Peter turned his attention to the silent figure who had been watching them both. He took a step back from Teresa, his gaze shifting to Nick Fury. His tone cooled, though it lacked the venom it might've carried days earlier.

"For the record..." Peter began slowly, crossing his arms, "I still don't know how to feel about you."

Fury raised an eyebrow, though his expression remained unreadable.

Peter continued, his voice calm but firm. "I know we're family. That doesn't change. But this is a lot, and I'm still... processing. So, for now, I'm reserving judgment."

Fury didn't flinch. He merely nodded, the single movement heavy with acceptance and something else, something more painful. His good eye softened slightly, the weight of Peter's words hitting harder than he let on.

"I get it, kid," Fury said quietly. "I didn't expect anything different."

The sadness in his voice caught Peter off guard. It wasn't disappointment, not exactly, it was the kind of sadness that came from knowing you'd earned someone's doubt and having to live with it.

Peter looked at him for a moment longer before narrowing his eyes. "But I do know you, Fury. I know you don't move unless there's a reason. So tell me..." He gestured between himself and Teresa. "Why now? Why tell me this now? What's the real reason?"

Fury's jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't avoid the question. Instead, he stepped forward, his hands folding behind his back in that familiar, authoritative way Peter recognized.

"There is a reason," Fury admitted, his voice low and even. "I've been tracking Hydra for years, gathering intel, building plans, trying to take them down from the shadows." He let out a frustrated breath. "And I've made progress. Good progress. But even I know I can't finish the job alone."

Peter frowned, his brow furrowing. "What job?"

Fury's expression darkened. "I finally have a lead, a solid one. Something we can use to destroy Hydra and put an end to the Red Skull once and for all."

The name alone made Peter's blood run cold. His fists clenched at his sides, the symbiote rippling faintly over his shoulders, mirroring the anger rising within him.

"What lead?" he demanded, his voice sharper now, edged with both suspicion and eagerness.

Fury didn't hesitate. He pulled a small holoprojector from his coat pocket and activated it. A three-dimensional image flared to life between them, a detailed map of Wakanda, marked with clusters of Hydra insignias and tactical notes.

"Ulysses Klaw," Fury said grimly, his voice like gravel. "He's aligned himself with Hydra. They're planning to take over Wakanda."

Peter's eyes widened in shock. "Wakanda? Why?"

"Because it's still vulnerable," Fury explained. "After Namor and the Phoenix Five leveled half the country, Wakanda's been fighting to rebuild. It's stronger now, but not strong enough to withstand what Hydra and Klaw are bringing." He gestured to the map. "If Hydra gains control of Wakanda and its resources, specifically vibranium, they'll become unstoppable. That includes the Red Skull."

The weight of Fury's words settled on Peter like a punch to the gut. He stared at the map, his mind reeling. Namor's attack on Wakanda, the brutal destruction he and the other Phoenix hosts had caused, was still fresh in the world's memory. And now Hydra was ready to capitalize on that weakness.

Peter's voice was low, dangerous. "So what's the plan?"

Fury met his gaze with unwavering resolve. "We stop them. We take down Hydra, Klaw, and the Red Skull before they get the chance."

Peter's fists unclenched slowly, the symbiote smoothing back against his skin. He glanced briefly at Teresa, who watched him anxiously, before looking back to Fury. His expression hardened, a familiar fire burning in his eyes.

"Then let's get started."

Fury watched Peter carefully, gauging his reaction, as though bracing himself for an explosion. "One more thing," he said cautiously, his tone deliberate. "I don't care how strong you are, kid. You might be good, damn good, but even you can't take on all of Hydra by yourself."

Peter's gaze snapped up, sharp and narrow. The symbiote rippled again, a subtle display of his rising agitation. "What are you saying?"

Fury didn't flinch. "I'm saying you're going to need backup."

Peter scowled, his teeth grinding audibly. "Backup?"

Fury nodded. "The Avengers. Like it or not, this job is bigger than you, me, and everyone in this room. Hydra isn't a gang of street thugs. They're an army, a global infestation. And if we're going to stop them from taking Wakanda and getting their hands on vibranium, we'll need every weapon in the arsenal. That includes them."

Peter turned his head slightly, exhaling sharply through his nose as he processed that. His fingers curled at his sides, nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw faint lines of blood that the symbiote greedily reabsorbed. Fury wasn't wrong, and that pissed Peter off more than anything else.

He was one man. One incredibly dangerous man. But Hydra? Hydra was a legion. Even now, with the symbiote's strength, his intellect, and his brutal resolve, he knew the truth. One man could only be so many places at once. And this time, the cost of failure was too high.

Still, knowing it didn't mean he had to like it.

Peter glared at Fury, the words leaving his mouth like venom. "Fine. I'll work with them." He jabbed a finger at Fury, his tone a deadly warning. "But, and this is a big 'but,' Fury, if any one of them tries to lecture me, talk down to me, or act like they've got the moral high ground..." He let the words linger before finishing coldly, "...I reserve the right to beat them into a coma."

Teresa winced slightly at the sheer bluntness of it, but Fury... Fury smirked. It was faint, the kind of smirk that felt both proud and impressed, even if he'd never admit it out loud. "Fair enough," he said with a shrug. "They start preaching, you knock 'em around. I can live with that."

Peter arched a brow, surprised that Fury had agreed so quickly, but he didn't question it. The man had a habit of picking his battles, and clearly, this wasn't one he felt like losing.

"Good," Peter muttered, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as the tension bled out of him. "Then we're on the same page."

Fury nodded. "For now."

There was a beat of silence before Peter turned to glance at Teresa, who was watching the exchange with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. She gave him a small, encouraging smile, as though silently rooting for him. Something about that softened Peter's expression, even if only for a moment.

Fury cleared his throat, drawing Peter's attention back. "I'll make the call. The Avengers are scattered, but they'll come for this. Hydra's not just your enemy, it's everyone's."

Peter grunted in acknowledgment, though the prospect of working with the Avengers again left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could already hear Roger's voice in his head, lecturing him about "lines" and "morality." The thought alone made his blood boil, but he forced himself to swallow it down.

This wasn't about them.

This was about taking Hydra down, once and for all.

And if he had to tolerate the Avengers to make that happen? So be it.

But God help them if they got in his way.

---

The room buzzed with tension as the Avengers gathered aboard the helicarrier. It was the first time they'd all been in the same room in months, longer, for some, and the atmosphere was charged with unspoken grudges, wary glances, and outright hostility.

Captain America stood near the center, his posture stiff but steady despite the bruises still faintly visible around his neck and shoulders, the lingering aftermath of Peter's brutal assault at the Raft. Natasha Romanoff leaned against a console nearby, her usual calm demeanor marred by subtle signs of tension. She moved her left arm carefully, likely still nursing the deep muscle damage from Peter's last encounter with her.

And then there was Tony Stark.

The moment Peter entered the room, Tony's eyes zeroed in on him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Peter didn't miss the faint wince Stark gave when he shifted in his suit. His pride, however, was far more wounded than his body.

"Well, look who decided to join the grown-ups," Tony sniped immediately, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I thought you were too busy brooding on rooftops or making sure nobody likes you anymore."

Peter didn't so much as blink. The symbiote rippled around his shoulders, like it was laughing on his behalf. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you still mad about the Raft, Stark? You know, I almost forgot about that. Maybe because you went down so fast, I didn't have time to write it in my diary."

Tony's face darkened, his jaw visibly tightening. "I'm surprised you even can write a diary, Parker. With all the time you spend being a one-man apocalypse, I figured basic literacy was out the window."

Peter smirked under his mask. "It's not that hard. Especially when you're not busy getting your systems hacked like a second-rate intern's laptop."

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Tony's fists curled, his gauntlets whirring faintly as though itching to activate. He didn't like being reminded that Peter had temporarily shut down his arc reactor during their last battle, a humiliating reminder that Spider-Man was far smarter and more resourceful than Tony liked to admit.

"Easy," Steve Rogers said firmly, stepping between them as his piercing blue eyes flicked from Tony to Peter. "This isn't the time for this."

"Oh, please," Clint Barton interjected from the corner, perched casually on the armrest of a chair. "It is kind of funny, Cap. Parker here takes a few months off from playing 'friendly neighborhood hero' and now suddenly we're supposed to trust him to have our backs?"

Peter turned his head, his mask's lenses narrowing in amusement. "Careful, Barton. All those jokes might come back to haunt you when I finally decide you're not worth the oxygen."

"Excuse me?" Clint barked, sitting up straighter.

Natasha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she had a migraine. "Can we all focus?"

"Right," Peter quipped, turning toward her. "Listen to Natasha. God knows you'll all need her advice after I'm done outshining you again."

"Parker!" Steve barked sharply, his voice full of authority.

Peter held up his hands in mock surrender, though the symbiote's faint ripples betrayed his delight at riling them up. "Fine, fine. I'll behave."

Before anyone could escalate further, Fury slammed his hands on the table at the center of the room. "Enough!" The single word rang out like a gunshot, silencing the bickering heroes instantly. "You all want to throw punches, save it for Hydra. Now listen up."

The holographic display flickered to life above the table, showing a large 3D map of Wakanda. "Hydra has been quietly regrouping since we smashed them apart last time. Somehow, they've gotten their hands on Wakanda's shielding technology and are using it to block all outside interference. Their endgame? Taking over Wakanda to access the vibranium and turn it into a global arms nightmare. We stop them here, or it's game over."

"Wakanda's no joke," Natasha said, her brow furrowed. "If Hydra controls it, we won't be able to counter them."

"And their shield system's tight," Fury continued. "We've tried pinging it with satellites, drones, and everything short of dropping nukes on it."

Peter, who had been quietly analyzing the projection, finally spoke up. "What if we overload the shield? Use the power core from one of the Quinjets to create an electromagnetic surge. The shield might be strong, but no system is invincible."

The room fell silent as heads turned toward him. Some of the Avengers seemed surprised at the suggestion, most of all Tony, though he masked it well behind a scowl.

Hank Pym, who had been standing quietly near the back, suddenly stepped forward, his face twisted in annoyance. "That would be a grievous misuse of the power core," he said arrogantly, his tone dripping with condescension. "It's not some toy you can throw around just because you—"

Peter turned his head slowly, his lenses narrowing into dangerous slits. "I'm about to misuse my hand upside your head, Pym," he snapped, his voice a low growl.

The room went dead silent again, broken only by Clint's barely stifled snicker from the corner. Hank opened his mouth as if to retort but thought better of it after Peter took a step toward him.

As the tension in the room reached its breaking point, the heavy thud of footsteps echoed through the chamber. Thor, She-Hulk, and the Hulk entered together, their imposing presence cutting through the thick atmosphere like a wrecking ball. A low, unmistakable growl rumbled from the Hulk, warning everyone that they'd heard enough.

"Hulk tired of this," the green giant said, stepping forward, his massive figure looming over the group. He pointed directly at Tony and Clint. "Stop yelling at Spider-Man. Spider-Man is Hulk's friend."

Peter turned his head, the faintest twitch of a smile playing under his mask. "Always knew I could count on you, big guy."

Hulk crossed his massive arms, glaring at anyone who dared to challenge him. "Spider-Man helped Hulk when no one else did. You leave him alone, or Hulk smashes you."

Tony blinked, stunned for once into silence, while Clint shifted uncomfortably in his seat. No one wanted to argue with the Hulk, and Peter basked in the satisfaction of having at least one person unconditionally in his corner.

Thor stepped up beside the Hulk, Mjolnir resting at his side as his regal, calm voice cut through the moment. "Well said, Hulk. I, too, stand with Peter Parker." He turned to face Peter directly, nodding with respect. "You wield great power, Spider-Man, and though you have walked a darker path as of late, you have shown the strength of purpose that many others lack. You fight for what you believe is right. That is what matters."

Peter tilted his head, genuinely surprised by the compliment. "Huh. Thanks, Thor. That's a lot more support than I usually get from anyone with a cape."

Thor grinned faintly, his eyes shining. "It is no small thing to earn my respect, Spider-Man. Today, we shall stand side by side in battle."

"Yeah, just try to keep up," Peter quipped, though his tone lacked the usual sting.

From the back of the room, She-Hulk, Jennifer Walters, spoke up, her voice cutting through like a whip. "I don't get it. Since when did we decide this is who Peter Parker is now? This isn't the kid I used to know. You're cruel, bitter, and one step away from being no better than the people you claim to fight."

Peter turned his head slowly toward She-Hulk, his mask lenses narrowing sharply as the symbiote rippled across his shoulders like a shadowy predator. The room seemed to hold its collective breath as the air grew colder, Peter's voice dropping into a cutting, venomous drawl.

"You know what, Jen?" he started, cocking his head slightly. "Maybe you're just mad because I'm not lining up to be another notch on your bedpost. Must sting, huh? Knowing I'm one of the few guys who wouldn't bother."

The room fell into stunned silence. Natasha's eyebrows shot up. Clint blinked, unsure whether to laugh or hide. Tony gave a low whistle under his breath, muttering, "Oof. That's gonna leave a mark."

She-Hulk's face twisted into a furious scowl, her fists clenching so tightly her knuckles turned pale-green. "Watch it, Parker," she warned, her voice a low growl. "You're one word away from me tearing you apart."

Peter turned fully toward her, unfazed, his body language as dismissive as ever. "Oh, please. I'd love to see you try. Just know that if you throw a punch, I'll hit back, and trust me, Jen, I don't miss."

Peter's lenses narrowed further, his tone turning colder and sharper. "Just like you missed your shot at adding me to that long, sad list of guys you've slept with."

She-Hulk's face turned a darker shade of green, her teeth grinding audibly as her fists trembled at her sides. "You little—"

She took a step forward, muscles tensing, but Thor's arm shot out in front of her, barring her path. His voice was calm yet firm. "Enough. Both of you."

Hulk rumbled in agreement, stepping between Peter and Jen with a protective glare. "Stop fighting. Spider-Man is friend. No hurting him."

Peter smirked beneath his mask, his lenses returning to their neutral state as he turned away from She-Hulk entirely. "Listen to the big guy, Jen. You're embarrassing yourself."

She-Hulk gritted her teeth, her anger practically radiating off of her, but she said nothing, clearly deciding it wasn't worth the fight, at least not now.

Fury finally snapped. "For the last time, that's enough! I don't care what personal issues you people have, Hydra doesn't give a damn, and neither do I. Save it for later, or so help me, I'll throw all of you off this helicarrier without a parachute."

Peter shrugged, as relaxed as ever. "Fine by me. I'm done here anyway."

Thor gave Peter a nod of approval, as if silently praising his unshakable confidence, while Hulk stood at Peter's side like a quiet, unmovable mountain of support.

"Can we finally get back to the plan now?" Fury barked, glaring at the entire room.

Peter leaned against the edge of the table, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just here to make sure the rest of you don't screw it up."

She-Hulk shot Peter a glare that could melt steel, her voice low and venomous. "You're walking on thin ice, Parker."

"Then let's hope it cracks under your weight," Peter shot back, his tone razor-sharp.

The room fell into stunned silence once more, save for Clint Barton, who muttered under his breath, "I should be taking notes. He's on fire today."

Fury slammed his hand on the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot. "For the love of—, that's enough! I swear, if you two don't cut it out, I'll lock you both in a closet until you remember what teamwork means."

Peter shrugged, stepping back and casually crossing his arms. "Fine. I'm done. I've already won anyway."

Thor gave Peter a look, equal parts disapproval and begrudging amusement, before turning to She-Hulk. "Jennifer, calm your rage. Now is not the time for petty grievances."

She-Hulk took a slow, deep breath, though her glare never left Peter. "This isn't over," she muttered darkly.

Peter turned his back on her, waving dismissively over his shoulder. "Get in line."

The holographic map of Wakanda's defenses flickered again as the team refocused. Peter, standing slightly apart with his arms crossed, gestured to the visual layout with a sharp flick of his hand.

"Hydra's not messing around here," he said. "They've upgraded their weaponry, some energy-based artillery, the works. But I've got a few toys that'll help level the playing field."

Tony scoffed, folding his arms and leaning back as if utterly unimpressed. "Oh, let me guess. More brilliant Spider-tech courtesy of Parker Industries? For now, at least."

Peter's lenses narrowed faintly at the subtle jab, but his tone remained light, mockingly so. "For now?"

Tony gave a faint smirk, eyes gleaming with smugness. "You know how it is. Ideas have a way of finding their way to... brighter minds. One day, Parker, you might not be the guy holding the patents. It's only a matter of time."

For a moment, Peter pretended to consider this, placing a thoughtful hand to his chin. "Oh yeah. You're right, Tony. That's just how the corporate game works. Someone like me running circles around you? You couldn't have that."

Tony's smirk deepened, until Peter casually added: "How's Sajani Jaffrey doing, by the way?"

The name landed like a thunderclap. Tony stiffened ever so slightly, his smirk faltering as his eyes darted toward Peter.

Peter turned fully to face him, his voice dripping with feigned curiosity. "Oh, come on, Tony. Don't act surprised. You planted her in Parker Industries to undermine me, to feed you intel and try to snatch my company right out from under me. I'll give you points for creativity, though. Blackmailing her by holding her mom's medical treatment hostage? That's low, even for you."

The room grew dead silent. Even Natasha and Steve, both typically neutral in verbal sparring matches, turned their heads toward Tony in faint disbelief.

Tony didn't speak, though his mouth tightened as if he were preparing a defense.

Peter's voice hardened. "Lucky for her, I'm smarter than you give me credit for. I fed Sajani faulty information, on purpose. I figured you'd try something like this eventually, so I played you. And since you're so curious, her mom's doing fine now. She's been getting the best care possible, on my dime, by the way."

Tony's expression darkened, a mix of shock and frustration clouding his features.

"And before you try spinning some bull about how I don't play fair, here's something else you should know," Peter continued, his tone sharp as a knife. "I've got lawyers lined up, Stark. You tried to take my company? I'm suing you for everything you own. Expect a call from my legal team soon."

Tony's face paled slightly as Peter delivered the blow. "You wouldn't—"

"Oh, I absolutely would," Peter said coldly. "In fact..." He turned slightly, his gaze settling on She-Hulk with deliberate slowness. "Lawyers aren't exactly cheap, but I'm sure you'd be willing to accept something other than money, right, Jennifer?" His tone dripped with mockery as he tilted his head toward Tony. "He's already good at throwing himself around, might as well save a few bucks."

A muscle in She-Hulk's jaw twitched violently as her fists clenched. "You insufferable ass—"

Peter waved her off with a flick of his wrist, turning back to Fury. "Oh, give it a rest, Jen. If I wanted to deal with an angry little girl's tantrum, I'd have dropped by one of Stark's old girlfriends' houses."

"Parker," Steve said sternly, his voice low with warning.

Peter ignored him entirely. "Now, where were we, Fury?"

Fury, to his credit, seemed utterly unfazed by the explosive tension simmering in the room. "You were explaining how these toys of yours are going to help us crack Hydra's artillery," he said gruffly, steering the conversation back on track.

Peter nodded, stepping toward the display as if none of the previous exchange had happened. "Right. Hydra's using high-output energy-based shields and pulse weapons. I've got a counter, miniature EMP disruptors I've been developing. Short-range bursts, calibrated specifically for energy weapons. They'll fry Hydra's hardware without harming Wakandan systems."

"Convenient," Natasha said softly, watching Peter closely.

"Smart," Thor rumbled approvingly. "Well done, Spider-Man."

Peter pointed at Thor with a small salute. "See? Someone here knows how to appreciate good work. Anyway, I'll sync the disruptors with Stark's suits, assuming he can keep them from shutting down this time."

Tony's scowl deepened, but he said nothing, still processing the verbal onslaught Peter had unloaded earlier.

Fury nodded. "Fine. We'll run with that. Barton, you'll deploy the disruptors; Widow, you'll back him up. Thor, Hulk, and She-Hulk will hit Hydra's front lines once we breach the shield. Spider-Man—"

"—will make sure none of Hydra's forces walk away from this fight," Peter finished coldly. "Don't worry, Fury. I'm good at cleaning up messes."

She-Hulk opened her mouth to interject again, but Fury shot her a look that shut her down immediately. "We've got a mission to run. Save the grudges for later."

The team exchanged tense glances, but no one spoke further as Fury turned back to the map. The plan was moving forward, but the cracks in the team had never been clearer. And Peter, standing tall with his arms folded and the symbiote lazily shifting across his shoulders, looked perfectly content to let them stay that way.

Thanks for reading everyone

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