He swung back to Neds, and unloaded everything that happened. He needed to be told that joining the Avengers was a good idea. He needed to have his friend look between him, and a photo of Tony Stark. Unfortunately, Ned had agreed with Ms Maximoff on that Peter was just a young version of Mr. Stark. The two weren't even related!

He got another call, from Social Services.

  "This is Peter." He said, in military practice, having done this many times before.

  "Hey, lad, hate to say it, but yer gon' have to come into an orphanage in a week, unless you've got someone to care for ye. As a message from the rest of us, we apologise." A sophisticated Scotswoman with a heavy accent replies, leaving space for Peter to answer.

"Thank you. I'll be ready." He sure as hell wished he didn't have to be. That this was all just some great big week-long stay at Ned's. He knew, rationally, that he was being irresponsible, and believing what he shouldn't.

The scrawny, tired child changed into the blue and red spandex, and swung to the largest building in New York. He sat on the edge of the building, brooding, with the side of tears. Thinking of the things he and May did together. Including the time he broke his toe, and could barely walk without the help of May's friend's old hockey stick, which had been left behind before she moved.

"Here," May offered Peter a hockey stick, which, upon further examination, had a label. 'Property of Katya'. When he asked about it, May chuckled. "My friend moved to Australia, but before she did, she left me this," she laughed again, "it was an accident—she had come over, and left it by accident. When I called her, she told me to keep it."

When Ms Maximoff came into view, he had cleared his eyes, and relaxed.
"Hey."
"Hi, Spiderman," she waved.
"Peter. My real names Peter." He nearly stuttered, in fact, he's 30% sure he did, but she smiled.
"Okay, Peter."

☆Time Skip☆

  "You must be Peter! Come on in." His spider sense buzzed faintly the closer he got to the woman. It stopped at a quiet hum, while he waved goodbye to the Child Support Service officer. The door then slammed shut, courtesy of the older woman's hand. Peter's spider sense was so loud, it might have been a miracle she didn't hear it. "Get upstairs." He didn't need to be told twice. He raced upstairs, careful of what he did, using his sneaking ability he developed while hiding Spider-Man from his aunt.
He met the 5 other, younger children that night, and swore to protect them, if his suspicions proved true.

He saw the red as Cynthia—the woman who ran the orphanage—beat Eva as she forgot to thank her properly: Thank you, M'am. I am so grateful for everything. He couldn't stop himself as he shoved himself between the cruel woman and the poor girl, getting an angry yell from the former.
"Move, boy."
"No. I won't let you hurt her." The dirty blonde scrambled out of the way, and tugged on Peter's sleeve. She whispered to him.
  "Please, please go. She'll hurt you. I can handle it." And so could he. More than Eva knew. (Okay, Elfo here, fairly certain no-one got this, but Eva is actually a book character, and is here on official, storyline correct business.[according to EBU {Elfo's Book Universe}, which is always altered for the user's own purposes])

  As time grew on, it reached to a week, then two, then three, of living in that wretched place. Peter sustained injury upon injury, and ate less and less food. Below the average human child's necessity. In order to actually make a difference, not just take the children's punishments, Spider-Man would have to non-suspiciously 'find out', by just stumbling upon M'am's behaviour. God—or gods, plural, if it's proven that there are norse gods—did Peter really call Cynthia 'M'am'?
  With the added time, Peter got to know Eva; what her preferred nickname was (despite it being easier to say Eve, Eva preferred E, as her best friend called her that), what her favourite food was, where her accent came from, why her parents moved from Australia to America, and how to correctly eat Australian food. Peter learned that the girl's only differences to himself, was that she had a keen interest in Birds, Anatomy, and rocks. She still knew and enjoyed the same things as him, but knew more of other things.

  "Hey, E, can you do a pigeon call?" Peter asked out of the blue, to which Eva responded with a loud coo, inviting every pigeon who heard. Eva then switched to a hawk call, which scared the crap out of the pigeons—in some cases, that was literal.

 
  When Peter finally managed to get back to Spider-Maning, he was exhausted. He was in an astounding amount of pain from a beating he believed broke multiple ribs, and the first introduction to a knife, M'am got mad that he once again stepped in front of another's punishment, and made sure he knew what he was getting into.
  A drug deal. Not the Ideal 'welcome back', but the dreary-eyed boy was certainly glad crime hadn't taken to the lack of Spider-Man so quickly. Through his drowsy thoughts, he missed the gunshot that got him in the abdomen, jerking back at the shock of the wound. He quickly webbed the men up, and swung away, again gravitating to the tallest tower.

He knew that the rapid exhaustion was no longer increasing due to his lack of sleep. Blood loss was definitely not letting him go. The door to the roof opened, and through it, came Scarlett Witch, and another he didn't quite recognise at the moment. Dots clouded his vision, and he heard a mechanical voice mumble something, which had Scarlett Witch running to him.

He woke up to long, steady beeping, taking in the damage, mentally. It felt like the bullet that was there had been removed, and there was something connected to his arm. If the beeping was a heart monitor, that he last heard in the background of a call, then he was in a medical centre, and he needed to go- "you're awake? Those sleeping drugs should have kept you asleep longer..." Peter fully opened his eyes to the doctor Bruce Banner. "Are you in any pain?" The doctor asked, and Peter shook his head, noticing that he still had his mask, and that some medical robot had a scrap of his suit on it. There was also a bag of blood draining into his arm.
Peter and Dr. Banner sat in silence for a while, until Peter spoke up, "I've read all your books on gamma radiation."
"Really?" Dr. Banner sounded shocked.
"More than twice." Peter confirmed.

Peter knew that at some point, he'd have to go back to that wretched place, so he made the most of the time he had. He helped Bruce around the lab, handing him vials, and reading the small text.
  "Pete? What happened?" The doctor asked.
  "I got shot?" It sure did sound more like a question than he hoped. Bruce raised an eyebrow at the boy.
  "That," he paused to pull notes up on his computer, "was the ticking point. Multiple bruises that are extremely worrisome, taking your enhanced healing into account, broken ribs—and not just hairline or spiral fractures, but greenstick, as well as knife wounds." Peter was taken aback, he knew he broke them, certainly more than just a light fracture, but he thought it might have been healing in the right position, at least. How would his body handle a dispositioned bone?
  Peter's alarm went off, signalling that if he didn't want to explain, he should go home. He explained this, and Bruce let him off.