Chapter Text
When it happened, every detail was etched in your memory: the sounds, the smells, the sights. But now, it's just a hazy recollection, like a dream that's fading fast.
The best details are shrouded in uncertainty. It is like trying to recall an answer you never knew. Yet, sometimes all of it is crystal clear, as if the event happened a few minutes ago.
Spider-Man has faced countless battles, his secrets and scars hidden behind a bright red and blue mask.
Suffering in silence seems preferable to dragging others into your turmoil. Which is why the decision he took yesterday, is still a nagging doubt.
He is currently sprawled out on one of Stark's expensive couches, nothing but a blank haze in his mind. His mask is halfway up, protecting his identity.
Clint is roaming in the vents, jump scaring everyone he can. Natasha is sharpening her knives, keeping a close eye on the other spider.
Wanda is reading a book with Vision in their special love seat. It is a vibrant pink bean bag meant for one person but they claimed it as theirs when they made out on it in front of everyone over a dare.
Sam and Pietro are having an extremely competitive match of Subway surfers. The loser will not be allowed to join either team when yet another prank war commences in the tower.
Tony and Bruce are trying to solve an equation that has tormented them for more than a few hours. Loki is desperately trying to lift Mjolnir off his book while Thor is raiding the kitchen for poptarts.
Bucky and Steve are discussing some lady soldier Steve had a massive crush on during World War 2.
Strange is trying to convince his cloak to get a wash but the mystical piece of cloth simply does not want to be held under water with soap bubbles surrounding it.
"Boss, Nick Fury has sent a message," FRIDAY informs, her calm voice filling the room.
Natasha replies before Tony does, "Tell us the message, FRIDAY."
The sudden seriousness in her tone is like a switch. The room's atmosphere shifts from carefree to alert.
"You are all required in the meeting room of the helicarrier in the next 10 minutes." FRIDAY relays.
The team exchanges concerned glances, their relaxation forgotten.
"What's this about?" Clint asks, his brow furrowed.
Bruce shrugs, "No idea, but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."
They quickly disperse to suit up and meet in the living room again, 8 minutes gone. They leave for the helicarrier soon enough, having already looked through news websites to make sure no new villains are emerging.
Spider-Man lingers for a moment, his eyes fixed on the floor as he mentally prepares himself for what's to come.
30 seconds left in the last minute, everyone has settled in their chairs comfortably.
The room is dimly lit. The team exchanges curious glances. Spider-Man chooses a chair near the back. His palms are growing sweaty.
Fury enters, his face resembling an expressionless mask. His eye travels around the whole room before he stands in front of everyone, posture straight.
"You must have heard of the rumours going around about Spider-Man's identity," Fury says, his voice firm. "Websites are 'revealing' his identity again and again, relating the lower half of his face to every single middle-aged white male that lives in NYC."
The Avengers nod along. Spider-Man is still having second thoughts. Wanda shoots him an encouraging look and so does Strange.
"Was his identity accidentally revealed?" Loki questions, a hint of mockery in his tone. "It sounds exactly like a situation the webhead might find himself in."
"My possible misery and wonderful luck is so funny." Spider-Man narrows his eyes at him. Loki shrugs with a smile.
Fury coughs. "That's the point, Laufeyson. None of you will know if something happens to Spider-Man's civilian self."
"Fury... I don't think this is a good idea anymore." Spider-Man interrupts, his voice nervous.
"With how advanced the internet is and how vast your rogue gallery is, it is possible that someone who should not find out your identity, finds it out before the Avengers," Fury tells Spider-Man.
"I know but, maybe we should do this some other time?" Spider-Man stands up.
Fury sighs. "Quite unfortunately for you, Spider-Man, you signed the papers. It is time everyone in this room finds out."
Natasha is hiding a satisfied smile; she had always wanted to figure out his identity. In the back of her mind though, she feels a bit bad for the Spider. All of them do.
"Okay... It's just my identity, just my identity." Spider-Man hypes himself up, shifting his weight from one foot to another.
"The machine might show more if it's deemed important," Vision mentions. Fury hides a wince.
"Wait what?" Spider-Man looks up.
The projector-like, futuristic device is being hooked up to Wanda and Strange's hands through a cable. The device produces a low hum with pulsing blue lights.
"Yeah, you agreed to that too." Fury hands Spider-Man the papers he signed yesterday.
Spider-Man points at a line in the middle, "This wasn't here when I signed."
"It was always there, in a chemical that becomes visible a day after it is exposed to air." Fury acts nonchalant.
Spider-Man gazes at the papers, his mind racing with the thought of making an escape and returning when the papers are nothing but dust.
Fury pats his shoulder. "It's for your own good, kid."
The Avengers don't miss the last word at all, their brows rising in unison as a low murmur washes over them. Spider-Man looks at them, then Wanda, then Strange, them again and finally at Fury.
"They can't find out everything, Fury. Come on," He tries.
Fury pats his shoulder and silently leaves. He already knew everything.
"Wanda..." Spider-Man looks at her hands instead of her face.
"It's his orders, Spidey. If I don't follow them, I will have to follow everyone else's," Wanda explains, frowning.
"You'll be alright, Webhead." Pietro puts his hand around Spider-Man's shoulders.
"I don't have any other choice now, do I?" Spider-Man asks rhetorically.
"Oh come on, don't be so depressed. The worst thing that could have happened to a bubbly, talkative person like you is a single motivational death." Tony stands up.
"Single." Spider-Man chuckles darkly. He waves at Wanda and Strange. "Go on, show them my poor fashion taste."
"With that suit of yours? All of us know you have no fashion taste." Sam points out.
"We'll be here to help you, Spider-Man," Steve reassures.
"In fact, we'll let the machine show important parts of our past later too," Bucky suggests. "You won't be the only one."
"Yeah, it will be a team-bonding exercise!" Thor adds excitedly. "Should we bring food?"
"It's his life, not one of those moving pictures, brother," Loki says.
"Those moving pictures are called movies," Bruce corrects.
"Ready, Spider-Man?" Strange asks.
Spider-Man takes in a deep breath, as if entering a battle with the Sinister six. He looks around him and realises that if these people knew his past, it might make his life easier.
Everyone looks at him soothingly. They'll watch his past but they'll give him as much time as his needs to be able to let them.
"Ready." He releases a breath.
A red and yellow tendril is shot out of the machine, directly into Spider-Man's chest, accompanied by a series of beeps and whirrs. A similar mist envelopes everyone in a calming tinge as they feel themselves get light.
Strange's hands make certain symbols. "Close your eyes, everyone. This will take a second."