Ahahahaha update!

Enjoy, peeps

Peter emerged from his room around lunch time, eyes half closed, and hair sticking everywhere.

He shuffled into the common room drowsily, rubbing his eyes with the oversized sleeves of the hoodie he'd stolen from Tony.

Sam, Wanda, and Bruce were in the room, the others being on a mission.

Then Peter saw someone else.

A dark haired man, reclining on the couch, reading. His green eyes flickered to the teenager, and he sat up. "I assume you're Peter?"

Peter shrugged awkwardly.

"Ah." The other studied him carefully, then touched the seat beside him. "Sit."

Peter sat slowly, not taking his eyes off the man. "Who are you?"

"I am Loki of Asgard. My brother told me about you."

Peter rubbed his hands together. "Can you- can you bring my memories back?"

Loki pursed his lips. "It shouldn't be too hard."

His hand touched Peter's head, and green filled his vision.

------------

"Underoos!"

"Nice job kid."

"Hey Mr Stark? Is it okay if I stay here tonight?"

"Who is the hero behind the mask?"

Faces.

"Join me, and together we can build my new Lego death star."

"Hey Loser."

"Kid? Hang on. Stay awake."

"I'm so sorry kid. I wish you didn't have to go through this."

"Are you- are you my dad?"

"It's complicated, but... you could say that, yeah."

"Dad, please! I don't wanna go!"

"Peter!"

Pain, so much pain.

Remember.

-----------

Peter opened his eyes to a loud noise, an alarm.

"Sam, Wanda, we need backup now! He's got fire, and it's getting nasty!"

Tony's voice echoed through the room, and the heroes shot up, including Peter.

Gotta get my suit. Then it dawned on him.

Suit?

His memories. They were back.

Peter turned to Loki. "I have to go. Thank you so much."

The god smirked, pleased by his handiwork. "Of course, son of Stark."

Peter didn't bother correcting him.

------------

The fight was going badly.

A whirling firestorm was filling the area, with a person in the middle, controlling it.

Tony was trying to get close enough to stop it, but was kept at bay by the heat.

Steve was trying to get close using his shield, but even that wasn't working.

Natasha and Clint weren't superpowered, or suited, and so couldn't get anywhere near it.

Peter crouched on the roof, studying the scene with narrowed eyes.

"Karen, if I swung one of those pieces of rubble, like launching it straight at him, what point would I have to hit to knock him out?"

"The nerves at the back of the neck, Peter."

"Okay. Tell me when I'm in the right position."

"Yes Peter."

Peter launched himself off the building, releasing a whoop of excitement.

"Maximum height reached. I would advise you to strike now."

Peter shot a web at a pile of bricks, snagging one, and launched it straight at the center of the inferno.

"Hey ugly!"

The team looked up in shock, not expecting to see a red and blue suited figure in the air above them.

"Peter..." Tony breathed.

The fire died down, the figure at the center crumpling.

Peter landed beside him, checking for a pulse. Luckily there was one.

"Okay, wow. I did not know that I had aim that good."

He faced the team, pulling off his mask and grinning at them.

"Hey guys. Hey Mr Stark!"

Tony faltered. "You... remember?"

Peter ran his hand through his curls. "Yeah. Loki did something to my head. Then I remembered everything."

Steve tilted his head. "As in everything?"

Peter shrugged carelessly, but they could see a hint of buried pain. "Yeah."

---------

They got back to the tower without incident, each taking their own methods of travel.

Tony immediately went to his labs.

The next morning, when Tony came back into the main room, Peter was in sweatpants and a tshirt, relaxing on the couch.

Tony saw him, and paused, as if debating whether or not he should stay, before walking to the kitchen.

There was a silence, in which Peter awkwardly rubbed his hands together.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked quietly.

Tony turned around slowly. "Why would I be mad at you?"

Peter hugged his knees. "It's just... ever since we got back, you've been really... distant, I guess. You've barely said anything to me. And it seemed like you were trying to avoid me."

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not mad at you, Peter. I just-" his words were cut off by a heavy sigh as he sank down on a chair.

Peter got up, moving to crouch beside him, putting his hand on the older man's wrist. "Please, talk to me. What's wrong?"

Tony leaned his head back, not meeting the teenager's eyes. "Nothing, Peter."

Peter rested his arms on his knees. "What happened to 'Pete'? Or 'kid', or 'kiddo'? You never call me Peter. Come on. Tell me what's going on. Please?"

The silence stretched out between them.

Peter slammed his head against the arm of the chair. "You. Are. So. Hard. To. Talk. To. Even after-"

Then he froze. "Oh."

He looked at the floor. "Timothy."

Even just the name made Tony want to hit something.

Peter looked back up. "That's it, isn't it? Timothy?"

Tony barely nodded, focusing on the boy's hand on his own wrist.

Peter pressed his lips together firmly. "You blame yourself." It wasn't a question.

Tony gave another tiny nod.

"You're an idiot, you know. Yeah, he hated you. Yeah, he did some terrible things, and yeah, I would love to punch him right in his crooked teeth. But that's on him. Not you."

"It was me," Tony insisted. "Because he wouldn't have done what he did to you if it wasn't for me. He wanted to hurt me, by using the one thing he knew would do that very thing."

Peter was quiet for a minute. "You know," he said softly. "I even remember when I told you about how you had lost parts of your memory. Do you remember that?"

Of course. It was the only thing that kept me sane.

"Yeah."

"And I asked if I could call you dad?"

"Yeah..."

"I was glad, you know. That he hurt me. Because it meant he didn't hurt you. And that was what kept me sane...ish. I thought I could hold on, just as long as you were okay. Because you're my dad. And I would do anything to keep you safe."

Before he knew it, he was pulling Peter closer, wrapping his arms around his kid.

Peter hugged him back, just as tightly.

There was no more need for further words.