Wolf Spider

Why

-Peter's P.O.V-

Parents. They had found his parents. Peter hadn't even thought of finding his parents in years, and now they had suddenly appeared back into his life? As people who had tortured him and studied him until he'd become a perfect little soldier?

"Peter?" James' voice sounded like it was underwater. "Peter, are you with us?"

His parents... his parents had been there. They'd heard all the crying and pleading that Peter had done when he was younger before he'd given up hope. They'd been there for the first time he had killed someone, and for the first time he became the Wolf Spider. They'd been there for it all.

His fucking mom and dad.

"Peter, you need to breathe," James reminded. Peter could feel the light touches of the older man's hands rubbing circles on his shoulders in what would normally be a comforting manner. He could hear the quickening beep of the heart monitor as he lost control of his breathing. "Peter, you need to breathe."

He tried, Peter swore he tried, but he just couldn't get the oxygen he needed to function. "M-Mom-" He managed to strangle out through choppy breaths. He wanted his mom. Not the mom that apparently experimented on him, but the mom that tucked him in and read him stories. The mom that kissed him goodnight, and made him his favorite cookies. The mom he barely even remembered.

"Маленький паук, look at me," A firm but soothing voice demanded, "You need to look at me."

Peter forced his eyes to look into green ones. He was a wreck inside. He wanted his mom and dad, but he didn't want them at the same time. He wanted to hug them, and be comforted by them like when he was younger, but he didn't want to be anywhere near them at the same time. He wanted the life he never had.

Peter let out a pitiful whine, and flinched when Natasha rested a hand on his cheek. "Calm down, Маленький паук," She mumbled, "You need to breathe for us."

Peter was shaking, but he still noticed when James rearranged them so Peter was resting against his chest. In the new position, Peter could feel the rise and fall of James' chest. "Follow my breathing," The older man instructed gently. "Come on, Bud, I know you can do this."

It took more than a few moments for Peter to match his breathing to James' exaggerated ones. He opened his eyes again (although he didn't remember when he closed them) and looked into Natasha's eyes one again. He felt himself lean into the comfort that the older woman's hand, and the warmth that James' torso offered.

"Are you with us, Маленький паук?" Natasha asked. At Peter's tony nod, she continued slowly. As if she was talking to a scared child. "They aren't going to hurt you," She promised, "If you would like, you won't even cross paths with them."

Peter's chest shook at the thought of his parents seeing him. Talking to him. He shook his head again, unable to voice his answer in fear of how his voice would come out.

"Okay, okay," Natasha smiles slightly, rubbing her thumb over Peter's cheekbones. "It's going to be okay. Clint and I will handle everything. You'll never hear anything from them again," Natasha started with determination.

Something jolted through Peter at that. Never see them again? He didn't even remember what they looked like, or how they sounded. He never wanted to see them again, but there were questions inside him that wanted to be answered.

"Pete?" James' soft quiet voice cut through Peter's thoughts. "What's going through that brain of yours?"

"I want to see them," Peter softly admitted, not meeting the two's eyes that must be wide with shock.