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“Does anybody know?”
.
.
.
“Nobody.”
“Dad, dad, dad, please—“
“Peter,” Richard sighs, ruffling his hands through Peter’s hair, “we can’t afford to—“
“I’ll always take care of him,” Peter pleased, clutching the puppy so tightly that Richard has to hold back a laugh, the poor dog squirming slightly as it adjust its neck to lick at Peter’s face, “I’ll walk him all the time and I’ll give him baths and wake up to feed him and—“
“Pete, it’s not that it’s…” Richard trails off, forcing a smile as he nods to the woman who had the dogs out by the side of the road, debating with himself how much he wanted to share about their financial difficulties to a stranger - much less his five year old son.
“We’d have to talk to mom first.”
“Mom’ll say yes, ” Peter says with a smile, the puppy now having wrangled itself out of Peter’s grasp and throwing its body weight on Peter - something that nearly bowls his son’s slight frame over.
Richard laughs at that, both at the tenacity of the dog in wanting to lick Peter’s face and at Peter’s determination - momentarily distracted from his pleading and laughing as he patted the dog’s neck.
“How much for him?” Richard asks, already running through the mental calculations of what a dog would cost on their already lean budget, a ridiculous notion that he knows he shouldn’t entertain.
But something unnamed tugged at Richard’s heart strings at hearing his son’s laughter and the unbridled joy in holding the dog in his hands - a sudden reminder of their most recent hospital scare and how small and frail he’d looked connected to all those machines.
That memory alone was a good enough reason for why a dog would be financially irresponsible, the variety and seemingly never ending health problems that Peter had.
Yet he couldn’t help it, knowing Mary would sigh but eventually go along with it as she always did - resigned to the romantic she married as the woman says, “He’s free.”
“Free?” Richard asks with incredulity, “Why what’s—“
“Got all his shots. Not quite potty trained but he’s smart, he’ll get there,” she says with a smile, nodding towards Peter and the dog who were now fully enamored with each other, “I was gonna keep ‘em all, moving with my daughter upstate but her husband…” she presses her lips together, Richard understanding her meaning without her having to say another word.
“Anyway,” she waves a hand, “just wanna make sure they find a good home.” She turns her attention back to Richard, a warm smile on her face as she says, “Sounds like your boy is ready to give it.”
Richard smiles back, all the logic and reason deflating out of him as he nods and says, “Yeah, I guess he is.”
“Rich, what were you thinking?” Mary furiously whispers, the two of them washing and drying the dishes together in their cramped kitchen - Peter in the other room rolling around with the still unnamed puppy.
“You should’ve seen him, Mary. She was giving them away for free and—“
“Free doesn’t mean free , Rich,” Mary says with an exhausted sigh, “Just because she said he has all his shots doesn’t mean he does. Leaving out the fact that we can barely afford to feed ourselves much less a dog, what are you going to do if that poor thing dies?”
Richard blanches at that, a sudden memory of something that Ben used to tell him growing up - how someone so smart could still act so dumb as he winces and says, “I didn’t think about that.”
Mary sighs again, bracing herself against the kitchen counter before her shoulders sag. “I know you didn’t and you know I love you but Rich,” she shakes her head, “we can’t afford it. You know it, I know it.”
“I know,” Richard nods glumly, wiping off a plate as he says, “Maybe we can ask if Ben and May can take him?”
“Rich—“
“Just hear me out,” he says, putting the plate down as Mary stares at him, “Ben was just saying they were looking into moving out of their apartment and into a house out in Forest Hills.”
Mary’s eyebrows raise. “How the hell are they gonna afford that?”
Richard shrugs as he says, “Ben just got a promotion and with May finally finishing up her RN degree, they think they can swing it.”
Mary purses her lips together, shaking her head as she says, “If that’s true then the last thing they need is a puppy, Rich. We can’t always rely on Ben and May to bail us out.”
“I know, I know but,” Richard smiles again, gently tugging at one of the loops of Mary’s jeans - bringing her closer as he says, “You know Ben and I always wanted a dog and with how our dad was…” he trails off, Mary looping her arms around his neck, “I think it’d be a good thing for them.”
“Good thing for you , you mean,” Mary says with a smirk, “won’t have to be the bad guy with Peter and give away the dog we can’t afford to a stranger.”
Richard smiles, kissing her slowly before whispering, “Just think, it’ll make it easier when we have to drop him off on work trips. We got that conference next month, maybe this’ll lessen the blow since we can’t bring Pete with us.”
Mary kisses him again, rifling her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck before saying, “I wish we could. He was so excited about getting to fly.”
“So you agree? It’ll be a good idea?”
Mary goes to say something only for the two of them to hear a peal of laughter from the living room, the two of them sharing a look before quietly glancing over the corner - Richard smiling at the scene.
Peter is in a full-on tug of war with the dog, the little mass of brown fur growling as Peter giggles, tugging him back and forth.
He feels Mary relax into him, leaning her head on his shoulder as she says, “We’ll call them in the morning. Let him have his night.”
Richard grins, pressing a kiss to her temple before maneuvering the two of them so that he could wrap his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as they stared at their son - a sense of warmth and contentment wrapping around him.
Peter’s health issues had terrified him, a sharp reminder of how quickly everything in their lives could change.
But holding Mary, hearing his laughter and the dog’s sharp barks made Richard feel as if just for a moment - they could revel in their small pocket of peace.
“Save the wormies, R2!” Peter says as he leans down, Ben fiddling with his watch as he watched Peter play, the bright yellow of his rain boots a sharp contrast to the mud everywhere as the dog woofed.
Peter gathered some of the worms in the mud, getting more mud than worms in Ben’s estimation before standing up - running over to Ben with R2 in tow, the leash in his hand all wrapped up in the kind of mud and gunk that Ben knows will take some doing to get out.
“Look Ben, I got them!” Peter says with a grin, bringing the pile in front of Ben’s face as he laughed, nodding as he says, “You sure did, Petey.”
He fixes the firefighter helmet on his head, one of the cheap plastic ones that Richard picked up at some bodega a few years back - swallowing down the lump in his throat at the thought of his brother and the reason for why he’d gotten him the gag gift in the first place.
Ben hadn’t been the first person to become a firefighter after that fateful day in September but he was one of the older ones, Richard goodnaturedly joking with him about his decision - giving him the plastic hat as a congratulations for making it past the academy.
He can see Richard’s smile in Peter’s face - even if the warm brown eyes staring back at him were a carbon copy of Mary’s.
Barely a month had passed since they were gone and it still took everything in Ben to roll out of bed in the morning - to put on his work boots and slip on a shirt, the lingering traces of everything he’d lost still felt all around him.
R2 barks again, bringing Ben out of his thoughts as he smiles - thinking that of the hole that his baby brother’s death had left behind, the universe had granted him enough of a kindness to give him back not one, but two bright spots in his life.
The first was Peter, grinning from ear to ear - streaks of mud all over his face and his knees, a sharp pang in his chest when Richard looked just like him.
The second was R2, the fluffiest ball of energy that Ben had ever seen - a reminder that even in death, Richard found a way to bring joy and laughter in his life in the most unexpected of ways.
“How about we let the wormies hang out by the grass?” Ben asks, dapping Peter on the nose as he giggles, “Let’s get you cleaned up before May gets home.”
“Can we have gummy worms for dinner?” Peter asks as Ben stands, Peter less than gracefully dumping his mud pile by the stairs of their home.
“How about gummy worms for snack? But only,” Ben presses a finger to his lips, winking as he says, “if you can keep a secret.”
Peter giggles again, putting his own finger to his lips only to make a face when the mud still on them smears across his face - Ben laughing as R2 barks.
“It’s not funny, R2.” Peter whines, Ben laughing as he uses his shirt sleeve to wipe the mess off of Peter’s face, leading him back up the stairs.
“I don’t know, Petey, you look kind of funny to me.”
As Peter frowns and R2 continues to bark, scampering up to follow the two of them - Ben swallows down his grief once more, glad in more ways than one that even in the midst of darkness, he could still find a small ray of light.
“May!”
She freezes, heart skipping a beat when she walks in - worn down in more ways than one from her shift as she closes the door behind her.
“Peter? Is everything—“ she calls out only for Peter to rush out, a worried look on his face that makes her stomach do flip flops as he says, “Something’s wrong with R2.”
May keeps her face neutral as she tries to calm her racing heart, Peter frowning at her as she says, “What’s going on with him, sweetheart?”
“I— I don’t know,” Peter says, scratching the back of his neck in the way he always did when he was nervous - a familiar tic that reminds her of Ben as he continues, “he didn’t eat any of his food all day and when I tried to take him out for a walk, he didn’t want to go.”
May tries to put on a smile, nodding her head once before saying, “Okay well, let’s see if I can get him up and moving. You know he listens to me best.”
Peter gives a half-smile but she can see worried he is, May’s heart aching at the possibility that another part of Peter’s life would leave him too.
She had seen the signs all this week, the lethargic way R2 would walk from his place on the couch to the kitchen - looking older it seemed with every passing day.
May had learned everything she could about taking care of dogs as soon as Richard had called all those years back, their best guess from the vet being that R2 was a Newfoundland mix - a breed with an average life span of ten years.
May whispered a prayer to anyone who would listen that their sweet R2 would be better than average, her heart not wanting to face the chance that Peter would have to walk through grief yet again without his very best friend.
She could still vividly remember those first few days when Peter had come to live with them, R2 being the one thing that consistently made him laugh when neither she nor Ben could.
And now with Ben gone, the ache of it weighing heavy on her heart - May couldn’t bring herself to accept that Peter would have to hold on to that too.
She follows after Peter to see R2 sprawled out on their kitchen floor, a small whine when he sees May, immediately kneeling down and rifling her hand through his soft fur.
“Hey bud, you doing okay?” She asks, thinking that if dogs could have souls that R2 would have the wisest one - an instinct for knowing when someone needed a laugh or a shoulder to cry on.
“I think somethings wrong, May. I don’t—“ Peter clears something in his throat, “I don’t know what it is.”
May glances to him, wondering how it was possible for Peter to look both older and younger than his fourteen years as he says, “We’ll figure it out, Pete. We always do.”
“What if he needs surgery? Or some kind of treatment we can’t afford? I was looking it up online and—“
“We’ll figure it out,” May says gently, placing her on Peter’s shoulder and seeing how eyes glisten, bringing the same hand up to his face, “R2’s family and what do we do for family?”
Peter smiles, shaking his head as May brings her hand down. “Everything.”
“That’s right,” she says, turning her attention back to R2, whispering to him, “And there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to help you out, big guy.”
R2 lets out a pitiful woof but it’s enough to make Peter laugh, R2’s tail wagging as May smiles.
She didn’t know if this was the end but if it wasn’t - May was convinced that it didn’t matter how many hours she had to take at the hospital or how much it cost.
R2 wasn’t leaving Peter’s life anytime soon. Not if she could help it.
Peter fiddled with the screwdriver once more, smirking as R2 let out another loud snore.
“R2,” Peter says, gently nudging him with his foot, “you’re being too loud.”
R2 lets out something that sounds like a woof and a snore, Peter shaking his head as he brings his attention back to the part he was working on. It was the exact processor he needed to make his computer work faster, even if needed a hell of a lot more refurbishing than Peter had planned.
Peter stretches out slightly, curling his legs as R2 settles underneath him, smiling as he continues to work.
It was better that R2 slept now, especially since the medicine he got from the vet made him so tired. Besides, he reasoned, as soon as he was finished, it would give him the chance to slip out and patrol before May got home.
R2 never liked being left behind - even when Peter had been small, though Peter knew the chances of him joining Peter on any more adventures in the future grew slimmer and slimmer.
“What do you think, buddy? Should I spend some time in Brooklyn today?”
R2 snores in response, Peter laughing as he says, “You’re right. Gotta rep the best borough in New York.”
Peter finished what he’s doing or at least enough that it won’t take long for him to complete it when he gets back - resting it on the side table before sliding off the bed with ease, glad that his powers afforded him the possibility to do so without waking R2 up.
“Sleep easy, boy. I’ll be back before dinner,” Peter says as he gently ruffles R2’s hair, pressing a kiss to the space right above his ear as R2 snores again.
He stands, opening up his window before sliding on his mask - glancing back to see R2 sprawled out on his bed.
“Love you, R2.” Peter whispers, smiling under the mask before he crawls out of the window - swinging off into the city.
It was lonely sometimes, what he did - having no one else to share it with.
But then Peter just swung out again, looking around the city - his smile still wide as he flung himself into the air.
He wasn’t really alone, never really had been.
Especially when he knew R2 would be right there at home, waiting to hear all the stories he ever had to share.
“You okay, kid?”
Tony tries to hold back a laugh as Peter glances up at him, running his hand across his face.
“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”
“You look dead on your feet. When’s the last time you slept?” Tony asked, Peter shrugging in a way that made Tony wonder just how ridiculous of a question that was to ask as he answers, “I sleep fine. Just been busy, you know how it is.”
“I do but you should not , you’re too young to have the kind of bags under your eyes that you do,” Tony says with a smirk, gently nudging him with his elbow, “you been spending more time with that girlfriend of yours?”
“That is absolutely none of your business,” Peter says, rolling his eyes even if Tony can see the gleam of something mischievous in them, “I’m telling Pepper that you’re meddling again.”
Tony puts his hands up. “Just asked a simple question, Pete. Besides, you should bring her around more often. I like a woman that keeps me on my toes.”
Peter laughs at that, shaking his head as he scoops some cereal into his mouth. “I’ll let MJ know.”
“Good,” Tony grins, motioning towards the food in front of him, “and you should be eating more. None of that instant noodle shit you got stocked up in that dorm of yours. Why you didn’t just let me buy you an apartment, I’ll never know.”
Peter sticks his tongue out, Tony rolling his eyes only for Morgan to come running into the room, a StarkPad in her hand as she yells, “Dad, dad, dad, dad.”
Peter snickers as Tony sighs before turning to her and saying, “Yes Morguna, light of my life.”
“Can we please get a dog?”
Tony raises an eyebrow, Morgan shoving the StarkPad in his face - seeing the listings for dogs in the area.
“Why do you need a dog? You had Gerald who, mind you, is living his best life on the farm with Uncle Bruce, and didn’t take care of him.”
“A dog is different ,” Morgan whines, hearing Peter’s laugh as she says, “I’ll do everything for it!”
“I heard that one before,” Tony says with a smile, Peter standing up from his place at the bar, “what do you think, kid? Didn’t you have a dog growing up?”
Peter gets a look on his face that Tony doesn’t recognize - a faraway expression before the corners of his lips raise slightly, nodding as he says, “Yeah, I did.”
Morgan looks between Tony and Peter impatiently, Tony watching as Peter’s faint smile turns into a full on grin, nodding towards Tony as he says, “You should get her one, Mr. Stark. Dogs are great, the best friends. Teach you a lot about responsibility.”
“Real rich coming from the kid who doesn’t ever show up to class,” Tony says, Peter laughing as he grabs his mask - walking towards the open balcony of their city penthouse suite.
“What can I say, Mr. Stark?” Peter says with a smile, shrugging his shoulders before slipping the mask on, “Gotta have priorities.”
He gives a wave, Morgan waving furiously at him before he leaps - Tony’s heart doing the same stutter it always did when Peter flung himself off of distances, even if rationally he knew he’d be perfectly fine.
“ See ,” Morgan says, bringing Tony’s attention back to her, “Peter says it’s a good idea.”
“I’ve seen Peter eat food off the floor,” Tony says with a grimace, “I don’t think he’s the best judge.”
But even as Morgan frowns, Tony thinks of the look on Peter’s face - a reminder of something May had said to him about the dog he had growing up and how devastated Peter had been when he’d finally passed on.
Peter had been through so much trauma and tragedy in his life, yet the look on his face spoke volumes to Tony - thinking that even losing a pet wasn’t enough to push him away from encouraging Morgan to get one.
Tony smiles to himself, thinking of the first time he’d ever walked into the Parker apartment - seeing a photo of Peter when he couldn’t have been more than twelve, huddled together with his uncle, aunt and dog.
He smirks, motioning for the StarkPad once more - as he says, “Show me what you found, Mo. We’ll talk to mom about it.”
Morgan grins, nodding her head furiously.
“Okay, okay, I saw this one and…”
As Morgan trails off, Tony just puts a hand over her shoulder - listening intently.
Peter had questionable decision making, that much was true, but the idea of Morgan having someone to be there for her unconditionally no matter what life brought her way was incredibly appealing to Tony.
He didn’t have that growing up.
And if Peter recommended the idea, despite the losses he carried - maybe there was something to it after all.