[A/N: I know you guys have been waiting for this a long time! Well, get ready. This'll be fun! I'm gonna be honest I've missed writing Spider-Nor, glad to have a story with him again! Enjoy!

WARNING!

THIS IS NOT A STAND ALONE.

If you have not read Always Silent, Peter Darling read that before this! This is a continuation and some portions will not make sense without the first book.. but if you really want to read this without the first book then I guess go ahead, there might be some stuff that won't make sense. You have been warned.]

"I'm pretty sure this thing is gonna have a seizure the moment we turn it on," Ned said skeptically.

"Nonsense," Peter said with a sly grin. "It's gonna work just fine," He looked down at the old green text-based computer screen and started finishing up a few lines of code.

Despite the fact that Peter had been selectively mute for over a decade, his vocal cords were hardly affected by the silence. With regular visits to a vocal therapist, he was already making great progress in improving his speech, but even with all the help, he remained soft-spoken with a low deep tone.

"Dude, you're trying to run Skyrim on three dozen processors and at least six bootlegged graphics cards," Ned had grabbed a fire extinguisher and stood with DUMMY on guard.

DUMMY beeped happily at being included, the excitable robot raised its claw holding the nozzle of his own fire extinguisher at the horrendous mass of computers parts strung together in the far corner of the workshop.

"Dummy, I swear to god if you douse this thing again while it's NOT on fire, you're getting donated to a Kentucky High School." Peter checked the wired connection to the secondary computer screen that looked out of place compared to the rest of the 1990s computer tech. There were at least three different adapters connected to the end, and one of them was held together with duct tape.

Ned just laughed. "You gotta admit that was pretty funny."

"Shut up," Peter said as he attempted to hide his grin. "And these aren't bootlegged, I made them myself."

"Sorry," Ned rolled his eyes. " Jerry-Rigged graphics cards ," he sarcastically corrected.

Finishing with his checks, he took a small step backcrossing an arm over his chest. "Alright, here goes nothing," Peter hit enter to start the program he then brought his hand up to run his knuckles over the uneven skin of the claw mark scars on his face.

The homemade retro computer came to life. It hummed and whirred, seeming to struggle to keep up with the command. While Peter watched the secondary computer screen with intense interest, Ned kept side-eyeing the rest of the computer for signs of smoke. The screen flickered then darkened before a digital fog rolled across the screen and the start screen glowed to life.

"It's working!" the two boys exclaimed with varying degrees of surprise.

"Wait," Ned frowned. "Where's the sound?"

Peter dropped his head and slapped a hand over his eyes. "Crap, how did I forget the audio?!"

DUMMY made a surprised noise, causing Peter to look up quickly. "Dummy, wait!"

But it was too late, the bot was already coating a portion of the computer in fluffy white fire suppressant. Ned burst out laughing, which caused him to drop his own fire extinguisher. Peter covered his face again, letting out a long groan.

DUMMY somehow managed to look proud of himself when the computer components were thoroughly soaked. How a one-armed robot managed to do that was beyond Peter.

"Why does it smell like smoke in here?" Tony asked as he entered the workshop. He had a coffee mug in hand and a StarkPad nestled under his arm.

"Pete set his computer on fire," Net said plainly.

"Did not," Peter crossed his arms.

"Did too."

"Well, I didn't see it," Peter pouted.

"Good thing Dummy did, you being a good lab assistant?" Tony asked the bot, who replied with a set of happy trills, "Of course you are," Tony patted the robot's arm before turning to Ned. "Your mom called, she's wanting you home pretty soon."

"Alright," Ned said grabbing his bag, "See ya tomorrow, Pete," Ned waved.

Peter just gave a silent wave in response.

"So how'd the test run work, kiddo?" Tony asked as he took a sip of his coffee looking over at the computer. The fire suppressant was already starting to dissipate. It was designed for electric fires so that there wouldn't be any additional damage to the computer after the suppressant evaporated.

Peter muttered something quietly under his breath.

"What was that kid?"

> I forgot the audio < Peter signed, the translator speaker tucked against his collar spoke out a voice similar to his own. His arms were pulled close to himself and he used on hand to scratch his scar nervously, his eyes darting across the computer.

Tony gave Peter a soft smile before setting his mug and tablet down, he slowly walked around the computer looking at all the intricate pieces. Peter's ingenuity with the limited technology was impressive, the purpose of the exercise was to overcome the limitations of the given technology. He'd bet the Iron Man suit that there was some patent worthy designs in there that just needed some polishing up, but really, he couldn't be more proud of what Peter accomplished.

And that was just his technological accomplishments.

Tony finished the little examination and now stood next to Peter, he put an arm across the kid's shoulders, pulling him close, "You know, audio or not, this is the most impressive thing I've seen someone do with dinosaur tech, and I lived the 90s."

Peter paused with his scratching to look up at Tony with a small smile, "Really?"

"'Course," Tony said without a doubt. "Plus, I never even expected the start screen to run with this junk," he laughed. "It was literally impossible, but no, you designed your own freakin' graphics card, Peter! That's genius ingenuity at its finest." He gave Peter a reassuring pat on the shoulder before pulling away so he could pick up his mug again.

"Did you expect me to fail?" Peter asked raising an eyebrow.

"No, I knew you'd come up with something," Tony grinned over the rim of his coffee mug.

Peter just rolled his eyes with a smile.

"This is a good place to stop anyways. I'm sure you'll get that audio running in no time, but Pep wants you upstairs for dinner," he lightly tapped Peter with his tablet, nudging him in the direction of the elevator.

"Taco night?" Peter asked excitedly.

"Well, it is Tuesday," Tony shrugged.

"What about you?"

"I'll be up in an hour or so. Got some designs to finalize," Tony looked back to see Peter's raised eyebrow, "Yes, I've got that miss' permission."

"Just making sure, you wouldn't want her dragging you up there with a suit," Peter turned to walk towards the elevator door.

"Definitely not living through that again," Tony shivered.

Peter chuckled at the image of Pepper holding Tony in the elevator by the shirt collar as if he were a misbehaving cat.

When he stepped into the elevator he requested Friday take him to the penthouse.

> Karen would like me to remind you that you have an English test tomorrow over poetry terms. She has prepared a study guide for you and is eager to help you prepare, < FRIDAY said just after the doors closed.

Peter froze, looking wide-eyed at the elevator doors. How had he managed to forget something like that? He was supposed to be on top of his assignments, he was supposed to make perfect grades . He can't do that if he keeps forgetting about the simplest assignments. What if he failed-

>Peter?< The AI interrupted. >I am to remind you that your worth is not measured by your grades. I'm sure you'll do great tomorrow.<

He took in a long breath, releasing it, then took in another.

Right, this was Tony and Pepper. They weren't Aunt May.

"I know that," Peter reminded himself.

It had only been two months since he killed May.

Really, it felt much longer. The days moved slowly but he still couldn't help the feeling that this was all temporary, that the rug would be pulled out from under him any day now. He hasn't mentioned it to Tony, or his AI therapist HAL for that matter, but there was this slow build of anxiety that's been hovering over him since the first day he moved in. Yeah sure, he was safe and happy now, but how long would that last? How long did he have with Tony and Pepper? Would something take him away from them? Or worse, would they decide they didn't want something as broken as he was?

Stop it. He told himself. He knew, logically, that those were all irrational worries caused by his anxiety.

The elevator doors dinged open and Peter tried to physically shake those thoughts out of his head. He stuck his hands in his pockets and put a pleasant smile on his face so he wouldn't worry Pepper when he saw her.

The elevator opens into the living room, Peter stepped out and followed the curve of the wall of the large open space to turn a corner into the kitchen. The architecture of their Park Avenue apartment was mostly organic in nature but definitely open and homely. There were few pictures on the walls and shelves, some of Tony and Pepper's wedding, others of just Peter and Tony in the workshop, but most of the spaces for pictures were empty. Pepper said it was a promise to fill the empty spots with pictures of them as a family.

Peter liked that idea.

He wondered if they would let him go camping next summer. Peter never had the opportunity and it was something he vaguely remembered Uncle Ben promising him they would do when he was older.

Having a picture of Tony and Pepper Stark roughing it in the wilderness would be priceless. In reality, they'd probably rent out a cabin or something. They could still try their hand at fishing, they could go hiking, and maybe hunting too? He could go without that last one, he'd enjoy it all either way.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Could you grab some plates, sweety?" Pepper said after he entered the kitchen. She was still stirring the ground beef in a pan.

Peter nodded as he went over to the cabinet, reaching for a couple of plates. He set them on the counter near the taco shells. "Want anything to drink?" Peter asked.

"Water would be fine, thank you," she smiled.

Reaching for the glasses, Peter filled one with ice and filtered water from the refrigerator door before setting it on the kitchen island where the bar stools were. Next, he pulled the fridge open to grab the cranberry juice from the top shelf. He filled the second glass, then set the jug on the island where he planned on sitting. He knew he'd probably finish his first glass before dinner was served.

"So how's school going?" Pepper asked.

"It's good, straight As. I've got a test in English tomorrow that Karen's helping me study for," Peter shrugged as he took a drink. He still had a habit of being kinda distant towards Pepper. She repeatedly told him it was fine but he couldn't help feeling bad about it. But his biggest struggle was talking about Spider-Man business with her. "Probably while I'm on patrol later," he said hesitantly, it was bizarre being so open about it after hiding it for so long.

He instinctively kept checking his spidey sense for any warnings, but of course, there were none. This was a safe place. It was still something he was adjusting to.

"That would be a good use of time between catching thugs," Pepper nodded. "So how's the- um- spider thing? How's that going?" she asked.

"It's good, really good actually. Was kinda bummed out that I had to wait a while before going out again since I couldn't let Spider-Man and Peter Par- Stark's reappearance be so close to each other," Peter couldn't stop the smile on his lips as he said his new name. Another thing he had to get used to, but something he was glad for.

"I'm relieved that you're keeping it a secret. God knows how much trouble we've had with Tony outing himself as Iron Man. He was supposed to tell the world Iron Man was a bodyguard, but what's done is done," Pepper sighed as she took the pan off of the stove setting it on a red and black striped pot holder.

Peter sipped on his cranberry juice, "I don't think I could do that, at least not anytime soon. Not with... me being Nor." He looked down at his red drink quietly.

"Nobody blames you for that, Peter," Pepper reassured.

Peter just shrugged.

"Here," she said, handing him one of the plates he pulled out earlier. "Fix yourself a plate, I'm going to go get a movie started and we'll eat there since Tony will be in the shop."

Peter just nodded with a faint smile.

***

A truck's engine echoed through the street.

A car honked a few blocks over.

And if he listened closely, he could head the deep bass of the music playing at one of the nearby nightclubs.

Peter crouched on the back of a gargoyle looking over the city. With his eyes closed, he took a moment to enjoy the sounds of the city that never sleeps.

God, he loved this city.

His hood was pushed back and he was relaxed enough to enjoy the cool autumn air gently brush against the back of his neck. It was the sound of distant police sirens that caused him to blink his eyes open.

"Karen, where's that coming from?" he asked as he turned his head towards the new noise. He used his voice much more as Spider-Man than without the mask. It was a little deeper and more pronounced with comfortable confidence. New Yorkers have already started to notice the difference, some even posted on Twitter that it sounded less 'cheery'. Whatever that meant. He hadn't been purposely putting any emotion into his last voice, but to be fair that one was controlled by sensors that judged his facial expressions. He didn't think too much about what that might mean now.

> The National Bank of New York reported a breaking earlier tonight, < Karren replied after a short moment. > From what I can tell, the camera feed was cut and it was the secondary alarm that was triggered from an unauthorized use of the basement vault. <

Spider-Man grabbed the edge of his hood yanking it on as he jumped off his perch. Nanoparticles snapping into place allowed the hood to keep its shape as he swung through the city. He was closely following the most efficient route that Karen had mapped out on the HUD. His time in the fighting ring had allowed him to nearly perfect his maneuverability in close quarters, and some of that even translated well into navigating the streets of New York, but Peter frowned at the fact that he wasn't perfect yet.

Spider-Man landed on the roof of the bank, and he beat the police by a handful of minutes. Hopefully, he could have this wrapped up by the time they got there. If not, well, he certainly didn't want it looking like he was the one robbing the place.

Spider-Man pushed through the window panel on the skylight as he crawled his way into the building. He clung to the ceiling and spotted the deactivated cameras, and that gave him an idea.

"Karen, is the baby monitor protocol still running?" Spider-Man asked quietly.

>No, Mr. Stark deactivated the protocol within the new suit,< Karen replied.

"Aw, that was nice of him," Spider-Man grinned under the mask as he crawled across the ceiling, looking around nothing seemed out of place but his spidey sense gave a small warning.

Not Alone.

"I'm going to need you to reactivate the protocol, and rename it..." He paused in thought, "The Spider Eye Protocol, can you do that?"

> Of course! < she said cheerfully. > Once I'm connected to FRIDAY again, I'll make sure to update her on the change. Was there anything else you wanted to add? <

"Leave a note saying it's to clear up any speculation on Spider-Man's actions in case his integrity is questioned." Spider-Man dropped down from the ceiling with quiet feet onto the marble floor. Glancing at the floor plan of the building provided by Karen, he quietly made his way down to the lower vaults. "Also note that if there is speculation, the appropriate footage should be sent to Lieutenant Hank Anderson or Detective Connor Octen of the NYPD... Tony trusts them," and Peter would never forget the help they provided with keeping some of Peter's secrets.

Stepping down the last steps, Spider-Man peered around the corner. He spotted the large vault door hanging open- the locks looked undamaged and the computer screen to the right of the door was flickering with an odd string of code, but there was no other visible sign that someone was in the area. Still, his spidey sense thrummed with a low warning of another's presence.

>Infrared view.< Spider-Man signed the designated shorthand of the word so he could activate it silently. His vision shifted to an array of cold blues and blacks mixed with searing reds and whites.

Slowly stepping into the open room, he frowned. There was no sign of anyone hiding. Even looking into the open vault, he couldn't see any residual heat signatures of where someone would have touched one of the countless lockboxes. Glancing over, he could see that even the computer keyboard was devoid of heat.

Spider-Man slowly walked into the vault. He hunched over slightly, ready to react in an instant to whatever he might face.

Hostile Close.

His spidey senses flared.

Peter's heart raced but he kept calm under the mask. His mind trying to figure out where exactly the assailant was.

Dodge Right!

Spider-Man quickly leaned to his right and he felt a harsh thrust of air from a high-speed attack brush against his face. It didn't give him much of an idea of what he was facing but he knew that whatever it was, its attacks wouldn't be easy to recover from.

Projectile Incoming!

He turned on his heel in an instant and shot a string of web at the money bag meant for his head. Instantaneously, he slingshotted it back in the direction that it came from, towards the opening of the vault. Instead of landing on the ground outside of the vault it collided with... something?

Something invisible.

Peter looked on wide-eyed at the realization, he tried to shoot a blanket of webbing towards the invisible assailant but was a second too late as the heavy vault door slammed shut. A feat only possible by someone with extreme strength.

Spider-Man rushed to the door trying to push it back open but the locks already slid into place. "Karen, get this open!"

> Already on it. <

Spider-Man took a step back, ready to rush out the moment the round door opened enough but after a few seconds had passed and there was no movement of the mechanics, he started to worry.

"Status," he ordered.

> The - < The AI sounded confused. > The coding is corrupted beyond all repair. Even the OS is completely shattered. There's no way of opening the door without manually unlocking it from the other side or reconstructing the code, but the police would arrive before that. <

"ETA on them?" Spider-Man jumped up onto the ceiling to pull at one of the ventilation grates. Despite the size of the grate, the overhead vent was too shallow to squeeze through.

> They're on site. Body cameras suggest that they are making their way down the stairs. Guns are drawn and they think the assailant is trapped within the vault. Backup is on its way, < Karen reported.

Peter chucked the grate to the floor in frustration. He was supposed to be studying for an English exam, not getting shot up by misinformed police!

He took in a breath. He had to calm himself, think.

The only way to exit the vault was straight from the door to the staircase, but the room was practically empty, leaving nothing to provide cover from the officers' gunfire. Once he was up the stairs, over the desks, and into the main lobby, he could web his way up to the skylight. Homefree.

Okay, he just had to make it past the officers in the basement.

"Update."

> The two officers are in the basement. They are waiting for backup before opening the vault doors. Estimated time of arrival: two minutes. <

Spider-Man dropped from the ceiling. He bounced on his toes in anticipation and shook out his arms. "Right, I'm gonna have to move fast. Really fast, I got this," Peter nodded.

> You got this, Peter!< Karen said encouragingly.

"God, I hope there aren't any trigger happy rookies."

> There are two rookies on their way, both started last week!< Karen provided happily.

"Shit."

> Aw, both have been best friends since childhood. I wonder if they're enjoying their first week. < She showed a picture of the two rookie officers. Spider-Man had nothing against them, but they were human, and sometimes running into a stressful situation without experience could lead to some unfortunate mistakes. He'd just have to watch out for them.

"Good or bad, they're definitely going to have a good story to tell after tonight," Spider-Man sighed.

> Four additional officers have entered the building and are on their way down to the basement. <

He stilled as he listened to the door. After the minutes started to stretch out, he heard the cranking of the manual release.

> Two opening the door, weapons holstered. Four with their guns drawn and fanned out in front of the door.<

The door cracked open, Peter hated how exposed he felt. He couldn't even hide in the dark since the blaring fluorescent lights in the vault were on overhead.

"NYPD, come out with your hands up," one of the officers ordered.

"It's go time," Spider-Man whispered.

The second that the door opened wide enough, Spider-Man bolted out. He immediately webbed up two guns, yanking them out of the officers' hands.

Duck!

Spider-Man dropped onto his back, a gunshot rang out, and he shot duel lines of webs on the floor behind the officers that fired. He flung himself forward knocking the officer of his feet.

Jump!

Spider-Man leapt into the air, a bullet dug into the marble, narrowly missing him. He webbed the attacking officer's gun and hand to the nearby wall.

Impending attack!

His feet touch the ground again, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the two rookies at the door, one still holding the door open, the other with his gun drawn. Spider-Man winced. There was an officer directly behind him. The rookie was aiming high, and it would hit the other officer in the head or narrowly miss him. Spider-Man couldn't risk it.

Duck!

He jumped.

He felt the pain in his calf before his mind registered the gunfire. When he landed in a crouch on his uninjured leg, he quickly webbed the officer's gun to the vault door while spraying a thick coat of webbing onto his calf before any blood could seep from the wound. He couldn't leave any blood samples.

He had a faint flashback to escaping police custody.

In the next second, he launched himself toward the staircase. He rammed into the wall after an unprepared step on his injured leg, but he bit down the hiss of pain before he ran up the stairs at full speed. He slid over a desk and then on the front counter. The moment the skylight was in view, he slingshotted himself through the opened glass panel and into the cold city.

The instant that he was a few blocks away on a tall building with no discernable roof access, Spider-Man stumbled into a land. His breath was heavy from the adrenaline rush and there was pain shooting up his leg. He let himself fall onto the graveled rooftop, panting. He looked down at his calf, taking a moment to decide what to do.

> Peter you've been shot!<

"Yeah," Peter breathed. "I noticed... Dammit, I've got school tomorrow," he gritted. Leaning forward, he reached for one of the hidden belt compartments on his suit. Thank god he decided to invest in pocket space for the newest suit. Better yet, he was glad he anticipated injuries. He pulled out a small black rectangular box about the same dimensions of the average phone. Popping it open and setting it to the side, he glanced at its contents: A few medical needles, string, antiseptic spray, cloth bandages and a long set of tweezers that stretched the box's length.

He grabbed the tweezers in one hand then reached into one of his front pockets, retrieving the compact knife that he placed there.

> I am required to notify Mr. Stark of your injuries,< she continued quickly.

"That's fair," Peter winced. Tony was definitely going to be mad, but he couldn't worry about that now - he had a bullet in his leg.

He sliced open the webbing; it was probably holding the blood in a little too well. Peter wiggled his toes and scrunched his nose at the feeling of a wet sock in his suit. The moment the webbing was split, blood immediately began to pour out and pool on the ground at an alarming rate. Not that it was actually anything to worry about since that blood had already escaped his body. He tried not to freak out, and he tried really hard not to freak out.

"Deep breaths, Peter, you know what you're doing," he whispered to himself.

He used the webbing he removed as a makeshift rag; he needed to see where the entry wound was before he could get the bullet out. "Any way you can scan this, Karen?"

> Area sensors are damaged, < she said regrettably.

"Looks like we're eyeballing it," Peter mumbled as he inserted the long tweezers. He gasped in pain but otherwise remained quiet.

> Incoming call <

"Prob-ably can't ignore that can I- ah!" A sharp jolt of pain shot up his leg as he accidentally twisted the tweezers.

" You're damn well right you can't ignore it! " Tony sounded panicked, " Peter, what's going on, why were you shot?! "

"Rookie with an itchy trigger finger," Peter hissed when he finally found the bullet, the pressure of the tweezers were stabbing against his nerves.

" What are you doing, where are you? " Tony asked quickly.

"Karen, coordinates, and I'm digging out the bullet, what else would I be doing?" Peter tried to say as casually as possible, but apparently, that wasn't the appropriate response.

" YOU'RE DOING WHAT?!?!"

"It's fine," Peter grunted as he slowly pulled the bullet out of the entry wound. "I've done this before... well... twice. Turns out gang members don't care if you're the number one drug runner when you get caught in a firefight." Again, that wasn't the appropriate response.

" Oh my god. Oh my god, Peter, " Tony sounded heartbroken.

Peter winced as he popped the bullet out, but it wasn't from the pain, "I'm sorry," he whispered. There was a faint clank as he dropped the bullet and tweezers. He probably should wrap up the still bleeding open wounds, but he was suddenly more distraught about Tony's response than his own wellbeing. "I'm sorry," he said again almost pleading.

" It's ok. You're ok, kid. I'm almost there, ok? What's your progress? " Tony spoke gently.

"I- um, I got it out," Peter just looked at his leg as he watched crimson darken his already red suit. Was he supposed to do something else? Whatever it was, he hoped it didn't disappoint Tony.

"Good, alright good. Next, you gotta wrap your leg up, okay, buddy? Hold pressure to the wound."

Peter slowly nodded as he grabbed gauze from the little box. He held them over the wound and pressed tightly as he sprayed webbing on them to help keep them in place, this time he made sure the web contacted his skin to create a seal that wouldn't leak into his suit. He just stared at the crudely bandaged wound.

Who knew spider webbing wasn't half bad as a bandage? Peter wondered if he could make a version that was mixed with antiseptic and a minor pain reliever.

Someone was talking again. "Huh?" Peter said distantly. Shoot, right, it was Tony. He got caught in his head, why did he get caught in his head? Stupid, stupid, worthless-

" I asked how's it looking, kiddo? "

"Oh, good?" Peter replied nervously. Was he mad? He didn't sound mad, but sometimes May didn't sound mad either.

Peter shut his eyes tightly trying to listen closely to his spidey senses. He strained his ability trying to get even the smallest of reading to answer his question:

Am I safe?

Please just let me know if I'm safe?

Don't be mad Mr. Stark, I'm sorry.

There was a faint thud behind him.

Very Safe.

Peter fluttered his eyes open in shock, that was new.

A metal hand rested on Peter's shoulder, and Peter suddenly became aware that Tony had arrived and was fully clad in Iron Man armor. The man crouched down next to Peter to look at his leg. Peter grabbed the tiny med kit, tweezers, and knife. He tried his best to put everything back in the right pockets, but it was a little slippery when your hands were covered in your own blood.

Tony hadn't said anything since he arrived, but looking up at him, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking when his face was covered by the mask.

"I'm sorry," Peter said again. He held his head down and was suddenly glad for his own mask.

"You're alright, Peter," Tony sighed as he carefully picked the teen up. It was only then that Peter felt the wooziness of blood loss hit him full force. He leaned his head against the shoulder of the armor as Tony carried him bridal style.

"You did good, kid," Tony assured him. Peter sighed in relief as he let himself relax into Tony's hold.

He didn't remember the takeoff or the flight, but he wasn't worried. Peter knew he was safe.