hello sweet little pumpernickel loafs, this is one of those chapters that needs to come with a whole lotta tw's, bc leave it to me to make a story about the most lighthearted superhero of all time emo. its like i cant help myself, honestly.

okay so trigger warnings: violence against a child, death, and underage drinking. also swearing. also poorly translated russian. blame google. also heights, if that's a thing for anyone. there will be a lot of heights in this story.

if any of this is gonna harm you, please don't read!! id always rather you be safe, and my stories are only supposed to make you cry in a good way. if something troubles you, my pm's are always open and im always willing to talk. love you guys.

p.s. tony stark haters do not interact, if you keep reading this story bc you're hoping he's going to end up as a bad guy you're going to be v disappointed.

➶

     Robin's blue eyes scanned the bustling atmosphere of the lobby in the Stark Tower Complex, feeling both overwhelmed and determined.

     She had been attempting to research the elusive organization of HYDRA for days now to no avail. Everything she found was insistent that it had fallen around the same time that Captain America had gone into the ice. This didn't sit well with the girl, who had been having increasingly vivid dreams about it.

     So, she figured that she wasn't going to find a better source than someone who actually lived through the era.

     She approached the main desk, where a receptionist was juggling three calls at once along with filling out a form on the computer.

     She waited for him to finish patiently, flashing the man a nervous smile when he held up a finger telling her to wait.

     "How can I help you?" he asked, using his best customer service voice.

     "Uh, is- is Mr. Rogers in?" she asked unsurely.

     The receptionist, whose nametag told her he was named Max, stopped his typing to look at the young girl.

     His eyes scanned over her soft sweater with the holes worn into the sleeves where her thumbs pushed through and her messy pigtails reproachfully.

     "You mean Steve Rogers," he raised a brow at her, "As in Captain America?"

     "Yes sir," she nodded, blushing slightly at his judging gaze, "If- if you don't mind."

     He scoffed lightly before opening a new page on his computer.

     "Do you have an appointment?" he asked doubtfully, typing something into a new file.

     "No," she admitted, "but it's kind of important, so if you could just-,"

     "You can't see him without an appointment," he interrupted monotonously.

     "Okay, well can I make an appointment?" she asked, the tiniest bit of irritation clouding her tone.

     A condescending smile covered his lips, and he nodded placatingly.

     "Of course," he nodded, but didn't make any move to write down her information, "What's your name?"

     "Uh," she blinked, panicking, "Gladys."

     Somewhere inside of her, an instinct was warning her that it would not be a good thing to have a file with Stark Industries.

     "Gladys?" Max blinked at her, "Gladys what?"

     "Gladys... Pumpernickel," she improvised.

     She wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

     "Your name is Gladys Pumpernickel," Max repeated, his eyes narrowing at her.

     "Y-yes," she nodded rapidly, "Um, my parents are adventurous people."

     "Look, kid," he sighed tiredly, "The Avengers are very busy people. They don't have time for fangirls and pranks. So why don't you run along and do your homework or something."

     Robin shut her tired eyes, willing the frustrated tears that accompanied her sleep deprivation to go away.

     "I can understand your apprehension," she tried, "but I really do need to talk to him. I have questions that I-,"

     "Do I need to call security?" the receptionist snapped, "Or will you leave on your own."

     "Please?" she switched tactics, "He's the only one that might know something about HYDRA and I-,"

     "What did you just say?"

     They both jumped in shock as a beautiful woman with short red hair appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

     Robin's eyes widened exponentially as she realized that Natasha Romanov was currently talking to her.

     The Black Widow's face was neutral, but she appraised the young girl as though she could be a threat.

     Her suspicions dimmed a little when the girl tripped over her own untied shoelaces as she approached the assassin.

     "Ms. Romanov," Max's eyes widened in shock, "I- I was just telling this girl that she needed to leave-,"

     "I wasn't talking to you," Natasha said coolly, her line of vision never leaving Robin, "Now, what were you saying about HYDRA?"

     "Oh wow, hey," Robin babbled, "I'm a big fan of the way you, uh, punch stuff."

     Natasha's expression remained blank.

     "Right," Robin cleared her throat, "So here's the thing. I have this, um, school project? We were supposed to pick a less common event in history. I went with HYDRA but there isn't much online, and I figured what could be a better source than Captain America himself? So here I am."

     "A school project," Natasha repeated, her eyes narrowing slightly.

     "Yes ma'am," she gulped slightly at the beautiful but intimidating woman.

     The former assassin seemed to be debating something in her head, before a small smile graced her features.

     "Come with me," she offered, already spinning on her heel and making her way to the elevators.

     "Seriously?" Robin's eyes widened in surprise, "Okay, uh, thank you so much!"

     In a moment of childishness, she turned around and stuck her tongue out at Max the Grumpy Receptionist before stumbling after one of her childhood heroes.

     "Hello again Ms. Romanov," a soothing, feminine voice sounded out from inside the elevator, "Where would you like to go?"

     Robin's head twisted around rapidly, trying to locate the disembodied voice before she realized it was probably Tony Stark's infamous AI program.

     Because that ended so well the first time.

     "Top floor," Natasha spoke coolly.

     Robin watched in awe as ten floors that weren't listed on the normal keypad appeared, the highest number lighting up.

     "It doesn't even feel like we're moving!" she rambled in awe as the display above the doors indicated their ascent.

     She was used to innovative technology from spending time in Oscorp's facilities, but it was clear that Stark Industries' was more advanced in every way.

     "Where do you go to school?" Natasha asked, her posture poised but rigid.

     "Horizon High," she answered, deciding to go with a half-truth when she remembered she was attempting to lie to a trained assassin.

     If she knew Robin was lying, she didn't say anything.

     The elevator doors opened to reveal a long hallway made of marble flooring with doors lining the walls on either side.

     Natasha ignored the first five doors and stopped at the sixth on the right side, opening it to reveal what looked like a conference room.

     "Have a seat," she spoke, halfway between an offer and a demand.

     Robin's eyes scanned the room. She couldn't see any visible security cameras or windows, but she was sure they were being watched.

     She took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs surrounding a glossy, wooden tables and carefully set her backpack beside her.

     "Got any weapons in that thing?" Natasha raised a brow at her.

     "Weapons? God, no. For what?" Robin balked at her, "I mean, I have some pencils, but they're graphite, so no lead poisoning. Um, I have peanut butter crackers? Do you have an allergy? That could be dangerous."

     She could have sworn Natasha's lip twitched slightly in amusement, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

     "Just a precaution," the woman said smoothly.

     Robin had a feeling that if she did have weapons, Natasha would already know about it.

     "So, what's your name?" the Black Widow asked her.

     "Um, Gladys Pumpernickel," Robin spoke, wincing even at herself.

     "I meant your real name," Natasha approached her, leaning forward menacingly.

     The young girl gulped in fear, her heart beating rapidly as she reached for her bag and tried to get up.

     "I-,"

     "Robin Reynolds."

     She turned towards the door and watched as Tony Stark himself strode through the threshold, waving his Stark Phone around as a digital file with her picture on it protruded from the device.

     A sickening feeling of contempt encompassed her emotions as she took in the seemingly carefree man, and she glared at him.

     For the life of her, she couldn't understand where the powerful feelings were stemming from, but everything in her was telling her that Tony Stark was not to be trusted.

     "Fourteen years old, a sophomore at Midtown High, and- hey, nice grades, kid," Tony rambled on, his eyes flitting over the information rapidly, "Academic Decathlon? What the hell is that? Oh, you seem to hang around with that Osborn kid a lot. How sweet."

     He hadn't looked up from the screen to see her defensive demeanor, but Natasha noted her mannerisms curiously.

     "What I'm really interested in, though," Tony continued, "Is the fact that you don't seem to have existed before the age of ten. What's that about?"

     "You seem to have all the answers," she countered sardonically, "Why don't you tell me?"

     "Oh, she's got an attitude," Tony finally looked up, observing her for the first time, "That wasn't in the file."

     She looked away, glaring at the wall and trying to get her unreasonable bitterness under control.

     "Okay, let's switch gears," Tony leaned on the edge of the table, shoving his phone in his pocket and crossing his arms to mirror her own positioning, "Why do you want to talk to our Capsicle so badly?"

     "I wanted to ask him some questions for a school project," she lied.

     "Well that's a lie if I've ever heard one," Tony declared, but he didn't look particularly worried, "Come on, you can't do better than the school project excuse? Not even gonna pretend to be his long-lost daughter or something?"

     "A school project is a valid excuse!" Robin protested petulantly.

     "Nope, you can do better," Tony shook his head, "Come on, put some effort into it."

     "I'm sorry that I'm not a professional liar," Robin scoffed heatedly, rolling her eyes at the man.

     She was normally the picture of respect when it came to adults, but something in the billionaire seemed to negate that aspect of her personality.

     Tony hesitated when she rolled her eyes, a spark of familiarity tickling the back of his mind.

     "Who did you say your parents were?" he muttered, pulling his phone out again.

     "I didn't say anything," she protested, "and my moms have nothing to do with this."

     "No," he said distractedly, scanning through the file, "I meant your real parents."

     Natasha winced from the corner of the room, and a wave of fury rolled through Robin.

     "They are my real parents," she hissed out venomously.

     Tony looked at her in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he always did when he was trying to figure out what he had done to offend someone.

     "She was asking about HYDRA," Natasha attempted to recover the derailed conversation.

      This distracted Tony enough from his random line of questioning to look at the girl in surprise and suspicion.

     "HYDRA was a Nazi organization active during World War II," he recited, "What do you need with it now?"

     Robin raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and tilting her head to the side the same way he had.

     "School project," she repeated evenly.

     "You're not going to get any answers if you keep lying to us," Natasha tried to reason with her.

     "I'm getting the feeling I'm not going to get any answers regardless," she snapped, running on desperation and two hours of asleep, "Look, this was a mistake. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

     She slung her bag back on her shoulders and tried to rush out of the room, only to be stopped as she ran into a broad chest.

     Standing there, dressed in a baby blue shirt that stretched tightly over his muscular torso and sporting his classic all-American haircut, was Steve Rogers.

     "Woah," he reached out rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "You okay, kid?"

     Unlike Max the Receptionist, his use of the term didn't sound condescending rude. Rather, he seemed concerned about her.

     She let out a breath of relief, the familiarity of the man she had been seeing in instructional classroom videos for years calming her down.

     "Mr. Rogers, I'm so sorry to bother you. I- I've been having these dreams and," she stammered out, looking at him earnestly, "It sounds so crazy now that I'm saying it out loud, but I kept seeing that stupid symbol and I thought I had made it up but then I saw it in the textbook and I-,"

     "Hey, it's okay," he soothed, looking at her in confusion, "Take your time. What's going on?"

     "Is there any way HYDRA could still be active?" she asked bluntly.

     Steve recoiled slightly in surprise, looking past her at Natasha and Tony, who only shrugged at him.

     "Captain, we need to go," a woman with a serious expression urged him.

     The super soldier hesitated, before turning back to Robin.

     "I'm sorry, I need to go. I should be back next week. Can you meet me November eighth in the café in the lobby? We can get lunch," he asked, looking remorseful, "I'd really like to talk to you."

      Robin looked at him for a moment, suddenly feeling smaller than she ever had and regretting her decision to come to the tower.

     "Sure," she lied, forcing a smile on her face.

     Steve hesitated, looking like he wanted to say more.

     "I'd really appreciate it if you came," he settled on, before jogging after the impatient looking woman.

     "Or you could just talk to us now," Tony offered, looking at her expectantly.

     She didn't even spare him a glance, making her way back to the elevators without looking back.

     She felt stupid for even making a big deal about her absurd dreams. All she wanted to do now was go home, eat some pasta, and hopefully put all of this behind her.

➶

     The bird in the corner of her small room chirped helplessly, pecking at the bars of its gilded cage.

     An eight-year-old Robin watched the small creature with sad eyes. She had been staring at the bird for hours, as she did every day.

     The door to her room swung open, and she looked at the guard blankly.

     She didn't protest when he grabbed her by her small forearm and dragged her through a corridor. She had learned to stop protesting a long time ago.

     They stopped in a dark room where a man lay phlegmatically on a cot, blood pooling out of his abdomen.

     Robin knew instantly that the man was not normal. A normal man would have been thrashing wildly in pain, perhaps even crying, and the one before her refused to even flinch.

     His eyes, a beautiful blue, were so dull and lifeless that she might have thought he had already succumbed to his wounds if it weren't for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

     Another giveaway that he was not a normal man was the metal arm on his left side where a flesh one should be.

    This interested the young girl as she realized that the man was like her – one of their experiments, an object for them to manipulate.

     "Феникс," the guard who had brought her into the room demanded coldly, his face impassive.

     He appeared to have no sympathy for the man slowly bleeding to death in front of him.

     That came as no surprise to Robin. They never did.

     She obediently stepped forward, a tentative smile on her face as she grabbed his flesh hand with both of her smaller ones.

     His eyes, cold as ice, turned to observe the small girl without any expression.

     She closed her own eyes, concentrating on sending a surge of warmth and comfort through her and into the mysterious man.

     When she opened them again, the gaping hole in his abdomen was steadily stitching itself together again.

     A chaste flicker of emotion crossed over the man's eyes as he was overwhelmed with the warmth that encompassed him.

     It was gone as soon as it came, and the warmth slowly faded as her hands fell away from his.

     "Сирена," the guard gave another order, his face as stoic as last time.

     The little girl looked at the man in panic.

    "No," she shook her head earnestly, "I don't want to."

     "Сирена," he said again passively.

     "I won't," she affirmed, though the fear in her expressive eyes was clear.

      The guard quickly became angry, grabbing the girl's dark hair and dragging her to the ground. He began yelling as he kicked her in the stomach, bringing tears to her eyes.

     She had expected this upon her refusal, though. Even through the agonizing pain as his boot connected repeatedly with her small body, she refused to give in.

     She would not be a participant in their experiments willingly.

     The kicks stopped abruptly as the guard's body was dragged from her own.

     The strange man, though his eyes remained as icy as ever, had grasped the guard in a headlock from behind.

     His expression did not change even as he snapped the guard's neck and allowed his body to crumple to the floor.

     Though his act of violence was terrifying, Robin trusted that he wouldn't hurt her as they locked eyes.

      The man again became unmoving, putting up no resistance as the room swarmed with guards to detain him.

      His frozen eyes didn't leave Robin's until they dragged him out of the room.

➶

     Robin shot up in her bed, hot tears streaming down her face.

     The burning in her back was not as unbearable as it had been the last time, but she was drenched in sweat and tears.

     Thankfully, her brain had waited until nine that Saturday morning to plague her sleep with nightmares, so she had managed to get some rest for the first time in a while.

     Grumpily, she padded into her bathroom to take a long shower.

     After she had managed to clean all the sweat and grime off of her body and now, thankfully, smelling of her peach body wash, she wrapped two towels around her hair and body.

     She jumped in fright as she took in the sight of someone sitting on her bed.

     "Geez, skittish," Harry smirked, "What's got you spooked? Halloween's barely even started."

     He was completely unphased by her towel-clad form, feeling nothing but impatience and excitement for the holiday.

     "Giving you a key was a mistake," Robin grumbled after she had regained her breath, going to her dresser to retrieve clothes for the day.

     In all honesty, she had forgotten about the holiday altogether. She feared that if she told her best friend this, however, he might have a heart attack, so she kept it to herself.

     "Hurry up," Harry was buzzing with happiness, "I want to show you my costume."

     Robin rolled her eyes when she returned from getting changed in her bathroom, now clad in jeans and a soft sweater.

      "That couldn't wait until after I've had-,"

     She cut herself off as Harry handed her a paper cup filled with her favorite tea and a brown bag.

     Robin peeked inside the bag and smiled upon seeing a blueberry donut.

     "Suddenly I love Halloween."

➶

     Harry tugged Robin excitedly through his penthouse, ignoring employees as they set up for the party.

     They entered his massive room, the black-and-white color scheme popping with hints of blue. Harry was possibly the neatest person Robin had ever met, a stark contrast to his carefree personality.

     "Show me the goods," she demanded, curling into the black loveseat in the corner of his room.

     Harry darted into his walk-in closet, rummaging around for a moment.

     "I took what you said about green to heart," he informed her, poking his head out of the closet for a moment before disappearing again.

     "Are you going as a cabbage?" Robin asked curiously.

     "No, and it worries me that that's your first guess," Harry called out.

     A few moments later, he jumped out of the closet clad in a perfectly tailored suit with a green jacket, a green bowler hat, a black eye-mask, a cane.

     Grinning, he did a dramatic spin around the cane as Robin laughed in delight and clapped for her friend.

     "You're the Riddler!" she inferred with great joy.

     "The Joker felt too obvious, but I wanted to go as a comic book character," Harry explained, flopping into the armchair next to her.

     Once again, Robin was reminded of the reason she loved her best friend so much.

     The world was quick to label the impulsive boy as a cliché spoiled rich boy who cared for nothing but himself and his money, but Robin knew better.

     She knew that he loved comic books, romantic comedies, and boy bands. She was familiar with the way his face lit up when he perfected a new recipe, and how his favorite type of humor was dad jokes. She saw the way he handled bugs with great care, gently setting them outside instead of attacking them because he didn't want to hurt them.

     She knew his greatest fear in life was being abandoned by those he cared most about, and that he lashed out at people so he could hurt them before they hurt him. She knew he cared deeply about what everyone thought of him because he craved the approval his father never gave him.

     She knew Harry Osborn inside and out, and she loved every piece of him.

     "So, what are you going to be," he nudged her gently with his cane, "You never told me."

     Robin froze, looking at her best friend guiltily.

     "You forgot to get a costume, didn't you?" Harry groaned, looking at her in disgust.

     "I've had a lot on my mind!" she defended halfheartedly.

     "You're lucky I know you so well," Harry sighed, going back to his closet and grabbing a second costume.

     "Seriously?" she laughed, taking the costume from him and looking it over.

     "What? It's cute," Harry insisted, "Besides, it was your favorite of all the ones we watched when we first met."

     Early on in their friendship, Robin had admitted that she hadn't ever seen a Disney movie before. After all, it was difficult to remember the films you had seen when you couldn't recall the first ten years of your life.

     Harry had been appalled to hear this, and the two had spent the next two weeks marathoning so many Disney movies Robin started to dream in cartoon.

      Peter Pan had been her favorite.

     She had loved the idea of flying away from all her problems, carefree and able to live her life without boundaries. So, admittedly, the Wendy Darling costume now in her hands made sense.

     The blue, bell-capped nightgown was made of luxurious material and the silk ribbon for her hair felt soft against her fingers.

     "Thanks, Haz," she said gratefully.

     "Yeah, whatever," Harry waved her off, "Get dressed and come try the cupcakes I made."

➶

     Decorations adorned every inch of the Osborn's penthouse, and music pounded throughout the floor. Due to numerous complaints in the past, the entire apartment had been soundproofed a while ago.

     Through the years she had known him, Harry's parties had gotten increasingly elaborate. There were tables of sweets scattered around the living room, and every classic Halloween game they could think of.

     In the middle of the main room, cheesy horror movies played on a massive projector and comfortable couches surrounded the screen.

     Last year, someone had brought a water bottle filled with vodka but both Harry and Robin had been too scared to try it. Harry had, however, had his first kiss during a game of spin the bottle two years ago.

     All in all, Harry Osborn's annual Halloween parties were talked about for months after they happened. No one walked away from the event without at least one good story to tell.

     People had started filling up the penthouse around an hour ago, some from Midtown but most an odd mixture of friends Harry had collected from his various schools over the years.

     Robin currently stood on the far wall in a group with Harry, Gwen, and Mary Jane. The two girls had come dressed as Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy and had fawned over Robin's costume for ages when they arrived.

     Grinning, Mary Jane brought out a flask and tipped some of the clear liquid inside into her punch.

     "I stole it from my dad," she explained, noticing Robin's apprehensive look, "He's got so many he won't even notice."

     Harry held out his own glass for MJ to fill, but Gwen declined.

     "Want some, Ro?" Mary Jane offered, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

     "No thanks," Robin denied.

     As someone who had lost so much time already, she had no interest in a substance that could cause her to lose more of her memory.

     Harry stood up straight from where he was leaning against the wall at the sound of the doorbell, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

     "Who did we invite that wouldn't just let themselves in?" he pondered, tugging Robin along with him to answer the door.

     "You've got to be kidding me," Harry said in disbelief as he opened the door to reveal Peter Parker, dressed in a Peter Pan costume.

     "Oh, wow," Robin laughed, blushing lightly, "What are the chances of that?"

     Peter grinned as he took in her costume, his own blush making its way to his cheeks.

     "H-hey Robin," he greeted her, "looks like we match."

     Next to her, Harry rolled his eyes and chugged his entire cup of laced punch.

     Ned and Michelle walked through the doorway after their friend, the former clad in a Han Solo vest while the latter wore a giant bug costume.

     "Oh my God," Robin laughed as she caught on to what Michelle's costume was referencing, "You didn't."

     "Only for you," Michelle smiled at her, her eyes dancing with mirth.

     "Hey, Ned," she greeted finally, turning to give the Hawaiian boy a hug, "So how are you guys doing?"

      Michelle had already retreated into the kitchen, rummaging through Harry's fridge, but Ned and Peter hovered awkwardly by the doorway. They seemed unsure of what to do.

     "I'm great," Ned beamed, obviously excited as his eyes scanned around, "Hey Harry, do you have that signed poster of Niall Horan that you were gonna show me?"

     "Uh," Harry hesitated, eyeing Peter and Robin, "Yeah, it's in my bedroom, come on."

     With one last glance in his friend's direction, Harry made his way out of the room with Ned and left Peter alone with Robin.

     The two looked awkwardly at each other, unsure of where they were supposed to go from here.

     "I'm glad you came," Robin spoke up, looking at him shyly.

     "What?" Peter shouted over the music, "I can't hear you, but you- you look really pretty."

     "Huh?" Robin leaned closer, "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

     Peter only shrugged in response, pointing to his ears.

     Robin huffed in frustration, her eyes scanning the room before she got an idea. She grabbed onto Peter's hand and tugged the blushing boy through the kitchen and to a set of stairs that led up to the roof.

     The two teenagers shuffled onto the rooftop, stealing furtive glances at each other.

     "It's a lot quieter up here," Robin smiled at him, "This way I can actually hear what you're saying."

     Peter nodded, smiling shyly before sitting on the edge of the roof and letting his legs dangle over the edge.

     Robin paused, gulping slightly as she realized how high up they were. She hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to sit next to him.

     Peter noticed her letting out a shaky breath when she sat down, and instinctively reached over to grab her hand.

     "It's okay," he reassured her, a determined look in his eye, "I'll catch you if you fall."

     Robin knew that, reasonably, there was no way the teenage boy would be able to do that, but for some reason she felt a whole lot braver with him at her side.

     "I can't believe we accidentally wore matching costumes," Robin smiled at him, trying her best not to look down.

     "My Aunt May picked mine out," Peter explained, very aware of the fact that their hands were still connected, "I think she thought it would be funny, you know, because of my name."

     "Seriously? Haz picked mine out," Robin laughed, "I've just been so preoccupied lately, I didn't have time."

     Peter nodded, hesitating before he asked her something.

     "Are- are you guys," he asked like he was scared of the answer, "you know, together?"

     "All the time, it's honestly probably a little excessive," she nodded, before realizing what he meant, "Oh, you mean- no! Not at all. Completely platonic."

     "Okay," Peter let out a breath, "Great. I mean, uh, cool."

     The two sat in silence for a moment, each looking at the other when they thought they weren't looking.

     "The stars look beautiful from up here," Robin mentioned, looking out at the night sky, "Usually I'm not high up enough to see them through the light pollution."

     "Have you always lived in New York City?" Peter questioned, wanting to know as much about the girl as possible.

     "I honestly don't know," she admitted, "Probably not."

     He looked at her in confusion and mild alarm, and Robin realized that she hadn't told him about her backstory yet.

     "I was adopted when I was ten," she elaborated, "One of my moms is a nurse, and she took care of me in the hospital. I guess I showed up out of nowhere with extensive injuries, and no one could trace my DNA to anything they had on file or figure out how I got to New York in the first place. I honestly don't remember anything before waking up in a hospital bed that day."

     "Woah, I'm sorry," Peter said, because there was nothing else to say.

     "I'm not," Robin shrugged, "I'm not sure what my life was like before I met my moms, but it obviously wasn't great if I was tossed on the street with two giant gashes in my back. They've given me such an amazing life, and I never would have met Harry if I hadn't come here. It- it would be nice to remember, though."

      She stumbled on the last part of her statement. For the most part, she didn't allow herself to feel any kind of yearning for her past life in fear of sounding ungrateful for all that she had been given. Secretly, a small part of her wished every day that she could at least remember what it was she had lost, even if she felt guilty for thinking about who her biological parents could be and what she had left behind when she already had everything she could possibly need.

     "I was six when my parents died," Peter said quietly, "I still remember a lot about them, but sometimes I forget the sound of my mom's voice, or how it felt when my dad hugged me. I always remember, but it's- it's terrifying when I can't. I can't imagine how you feel."

      Robin only looked at him before resting her head on his shoulder. Sometimes it was better not to say anything at all.

     So Peter Pan and Wendy Darling sat upon the rooftop, gazing out at the stars and reveling in the comfort they brought each other.

     It was in this exact position that Harry, MJ, and Gwen found them in twenty minutes later.

     "What the hell, Robin?"

     Harry Osborn stumbled onto the rooftop, his anger as apparent as his drunkenness.

     "Sorry, Ro," Mary Jane apologized as she and Gwen followed him up the stairs, "Apparently he's a lightweight."

     "Also, exceedingly profane," Gwen chimed in, looking flustered.

     "Are you okay, Haz?" Robin frowned in concern, getting up and approaching the inebriated boy, "How much have you had to drink? Gwen, can you go get him some water?"

     The blonde nodded, scurrying back down the stairs. She was thankful to get away from the conflict.

     "I've been calling your name for the past thir-thirty minutes," he slurred, "Nightmare Before Christmas is playing. We always watch it together. Every year."

     "Right, I'm sorry," Robin frowned, trying to placate him, "I guess I just lost track of time. We can go watch it now."

     Harry nodded, seemingly satisfied with this answer.

     "What were you even doing- of course," Harry's eyes darkened in anger as he spotted an awkward looking Peter as he got up from the ledge, "Well that's just perfect, isn't it? As perfect as Peter fucking Parker."

     "I-I'm sorry," Peter looked like he'd rather jump off the side of the building than have this conversation, "I didn't realize-,"

     "You never do, do you?" Harry began waving his arms around wildly, "You didn't realize you were stealing my best friend, just like you didn't realize my dad would rather have you for a son."

     Peter looked away awkwardly, and the gears in Robins brain began turning as she started putting the pieces together.

     She reached out for her best friend, only to have him flinch away. The boy stumbled slightly as he backed away from them, inching closer and closer to the ledge.

     "Jesus Christ, you should've heard the way he talked about you," Harry ranted on, "It was always why can't you be more like Peter and Peter would've gotten this much faster and maybe if you took a page out of the Parker boy's book you wouldn't be such a disappointment. He was practically ready to adopt you and throw me out onto the streets."

     From the grimace on Peter's face, he knew exactly what Harry was talking about.

     "Dude, chill out," Mary Jane tried, looking at the normally poised boy in alarm.

     "Let's go downstairs and talk about this, yeah?" Robin tried to soothe, eyeing the rapidly decreasing distance between her best friend and the edge of the roof.

     She tried to move towards him, but he only took another step backwards.

     "Why?" Harry scoffed, "So you can take his side again? Over what, a stupid crush?"

     Had he not been teetering over the side of a roof, she might have been embarrassed by his words.

      Robin let out a scream as Harry fell over the edge, his face turning white as he braced for the plummet downwards.

     Peter moved almost impossibly fast, reaching the ledge and grasping Harry by the wrist in a display of strength none of them expected from the skinny teen.

     He looked incredibly panicked himself as he tugged Harry back onto the rooftop, looking him over to make sure the shaken boy was okay.

     Harry quickly sobered up as adrenaline pulsed through him, his breathing heavy and his face as white as a sheet. He sat up on the concrete surface but made no move to stand.

     Robin let out a choked sob, rushing over and collapsing on her knees next to him. Mary Jane looked on with wide eyes, muttering curses under her breath.

     "You're an asshole, and an idiot, and I hate you," Robin shoved Harry weakly before pulling him into a hug, tears streaming down her face.

     "I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking and crying himself, "I'm sorry."

     "I, uh, I should get going," Peter felt horribly out of place, crossing his arms awkwardly.

     "I'll walk you out," Mary Jane nodded, eager to get away from the emotional scene in front of her.

     Robin had Harry covered, and feelings had never been the green-clad girl's strong suit.

     "Thank you, Peter," Robin looked at the boy with so much gratitude that it made him blush but made no indication that she was going to remove herself from Harry's hold anytime soon.

     He nodded jerkily, looking longingly at her one last time before following Mary Jane down the stairs.

     It wasn't until the walk home that he'd pull out his cellphone and see the numerous missed calls from his Aunt May. It wouldn't be until he got home that he realized the horrors of the night were far from over.

     Gwen climbed the stairs up to the rooftop, holding a water bottle in her hand.

     "What did I miss?" she blinked in confusion, taking in the crying teens in front of her.

➶

     The news spread like wildfire the next morning.

     Ben Parker had been shot in a convenience store robbery gone wrong on the night of Halloween, around the same time that Peter had been cuddled up to Robin on the roof.

      Robin had immediately called Peter when Gwen had texted her to let her know, but she had gotten no response.

     None of her subsequent messages or calls over the next week and a half had produced a different result. She figured he needed some time alone, so she didn't press the issue further than texting Ned to make sure he was at least safe. Ned had assured her that he was as okay as he could be but wasn't coming out of his room for anyone.

     As Peter was ignoring her calls, she was mimicking this behavior when it came to Harry.

     As much as she loved the boy, he needed to time to think over his actions from Halloween. Harry had always been reckless, but he was quickly crossing over the gap into self-destructive. If he really needed her, he had a key to her house.

     At school, she spent most of her time with Gwen and Mary Jane but ate lunch with Ned and Michelle.

     She ignored the forlorn glances Harry would send her way and sent some of her own to the empty seat Peter usually occupied in her chemistry classes.

     He hadn't shown up to school for a week following the accident, and she didn't blame him. Her understanding of his absence didn't stop the worry that ate away at her, though.

      Another thing that had changed over the course of the week was the sudden appearance of someone in a red-and-blue costume swinging through the city with what seemed to be spider-webs, stopping muggings and purse-snatchers. A few videos of the figure had appeared on YouTube, sparking rumors and controversy throughout the school.

     Under normal circumstances, Robin would have been incredibly excited by this new development, but she was a little preoccupied.

     It wasn't until Sunday of the next week that Harry finally showed up at her door, confusing and alarming her moms – who she hadn't mentioned anything about the situation to - with his bloodshot eyes and nervous demeanor.

     "I- I got you something," Harry stuttered, producing a gift bag when they were alone in Robin's room.

      She eyed him suspiciously, her reluctance transforming into annoyance when she retrieved a jewelry box from the bag.

     "Seriously?" she tossed it back at him, not even bothering to open it.

     "Yeah, I didn't think that would work," he groaned, flopping onto her bed dramatically, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'll never drink again."

     "Liar," she accused.

     "Probably," he admitted.

     "I just want you to be safe," she relented with a sigh, "You need to slow down, Haz. What is going on with you?"

     "I don't know," he looked down at the floor, "Lately I've been- I don't know. It's like I can't stop myself from doing stupid stuff. Like, I know it won't end well, but I can't control myself."

     Robin softened at the insecure look in his eyes, joining him on her bed and grabbing his hand.

     "We'll figure it out together, okay?" she insisted, "You can't keep lashing out at me for no reason, though. All I want to do is help you."

     He looked at her gratefully, nodding once before his features became pained.

     "Have you talked to Peter?" he asked, guilt clouding his expression.

     "No," she admitted, her eyes becoming sad, "He hasn't been returning my calls."

     "I feel terrible," he groaned, rubbing his tired eyes.

     "I don't think it's me you should be telling that to," she pressed.

     "Do you honestly think he'd accept an apology from me?" Harry looked at her in disbelief.

     "You won't know until you try," Robin shrugged, "Just don't try to buy him something. Seriously, what were you thinking?"

     "I hardly ever do," Harry replied.

➶

     Robin's heart leapt when she saw a forlorn looking Peter retrieving his books from his locker the next Monday.

     Ned stood next to him, looking like he wanted to say something but was holding himself back.

     "Peter," she breathed out as she approached him, a hesitant smile on her face, "Hey, I'm so glad you're back. How- how are you holding up?"

     Peter didn't even look at her, his jaw clenching tightly as he continued to rummage through his locker.

     "How do you think?" he muttered sharply.

     Robin blinked once at his uncharacteristically dark tone, but quickly schooled her features.

     "I'm sorry about your Uncle. I know you've probably been getting that more than you'd like, but I just wanted to make sure you knew that I'm here for you. For anything you need, I mean it," she rambled slightly, before hesitating on the next part, "And I'm so sorry about Halloween. Harry feels terrible, he was way too drunk. I know you went to make peace with him and it obviously didn't-,"

     "I didn't go for him,"

     Robin looked at the mourning boy in confusion, tilting her head to the side.

     "What do you mean?" she asked him.

     "I didn't go to that stupid party for Harry, I went for you," he ground out, finally turning to face her, "and it was because of you that I wasn't there when my Uncle was shot."

     "Peter," Ned warned, looking at his friend with shocked eyes.

     "No, it's okay," Robin said softly, before looking back at Peter, "Pete, I'm really sorry if you feel like it was a mistake to go to the party, but honestly, what could you have done to stop what happened?"

     Peter shut his eyes, his face painted with guilt.

     "Look, just leave me alone okay?" Peter's voice shook slightly before he steeled it again, "Harry was right. You should just get over your stupid crush. I don't want anything to do with you."

     With that, he slammed his locker shut and walked away, leaving a panicked Ned to give her an apologetic look before rushing off after him.

     Robin would have loved to say that she was strong enough for his words not to affect her, that she understood he was grieving and didn't take it personally, but the tears gathering in her eyes told a different story.

     She felt as though the hallway was closing in on her, and like everyone was staring at her and whispering behind their hands. Her ears began to ring, and she knew she was moments away from having an anxiety attack.

     It had been a while since her last one, and she was taking her medication regularly, but as her vision began to blur, she knew she had to get out of there.

     Robin spun on her heel and rushed back through the double doors that marked the entrance of the school, ignoring a startled looking Flash Thompson as she hurried across the front lawns and through the parking lot.

     When she had made it onto the street, she ducked into an alleyway and gasped out a shuttering breath as she leaned against the wall.

     Slowly, her head stopped spinning and her arms stopped shaking as she practiced her breathing techniques.

     She was just thankful it hadn't been a full-blown panic attack, or she would have been out of commission in a random alley.

     A sinking feeling settled in her chest once she had finally calmed down enough for coherent thoughts to return to her.

     Had it been her fault?

     The thought left as soon as it came as she realized she was allowing herself to be pulled down into the thought process of a grieving person. It was never rational or fair, especially not when the wounds were so fresh.

     She would give him the distance he wanted, but if she started blaming herself for what happened she'd fall into a hole she wasn't sure she could crawl back out of.

     She considered going back to school but knew that Harry would immediately know something was wrong. Instead of dealing with that mess, she opted to walk back home. Her moms wouldn't be home for hours, so she'd have some time to herself.

     The walk back to her apartment went quickly, the streets blurring around her. She was still feeling the aftershocks of her attack and her body was protecting her from the hypersensitivity that always followed.

     Trudging up to her door, she paused when she realized the door was slightly ajar.

     Robin quietly retrieved a pencil from her bag, hoping that if there was an attacker in her apartment, she could at least stab them in the eye to give herself an advantage.

     "Mom?" she called out tentatively as she entered the room, "Did your shift at the hospital get switch-,"

     She cut herself off as she took in the sight of Captain America sitting at her kitchen table, looking at her with a sheepish smile.

     "You never showed up for our lunch plans."

➶➶➶

oh, teenagers. always so dramatic.

harry's character is so fun to write, because even in the comics he's always been described as jealous and self-destructive. its interesting giving depth and humanity to that.

sorry for the robin/peter drama, this story wasn't slow burn enough for me lol

also it hurts me to write tony stark hate, it rly does. too many people genuinely feel that way. i will protect him. dont @ me.

also i attached one of my favorite vines of all time fjsdfhsgf thank you to @theloml for finding it for me

love you endlessly and stay hydrated,

-belle xx