Lost in Translation

Trust

**Heh, do you guys hate Fury enough yet? I'm not so sure... If you didn't hate him before, you will now, and Natasha gets her revenge. Or rather, Clint does for her. This is a pretty long chapter, and the ending is scalding hot tea, so enjoy!!**

Peter trusted Ned with his whole being. He trusted him with his life. And Ned, the perfect friend that he was, the trustworthy secret-keeper, was a very good listener. Peter wasn't one to spill his life story or talk openly about his trauma, but he knew he could with Ned. It was easy, actually, to talk when there was no fear of judgement.

"And then Natasha came out into the living room." Peter was retelling the whole story, his eyes turned to the carpet he was scrubbing at as he talked. He'd long ago dumped the Goblin onto a tarp in Ned's garage, and now was digging blood stains out of the peach rug at the bottom of the stairs. Ned was sitting on said stairs, quietly nodding along and taking in the story. He knew better than to interrupt Peter now that he was opening up. "Fury pretty much confirmed it," Peter continued. "And then I just left, like... I spent my entire life knowing who I was. Knowing that I was May's nephew. And in, like, just a few weeks, I've lost everything. I lost May, I lost myself, I-"

Peter threw down the brush he was using and wiped a tear off his cheek with the back of his arm.

"It makes sense," he sighed. "It makes sense now that Fury knew I had powers. That he put me in Natasha's old job. That he... I just wish I'd known. I'm not who I thought I was."

Ned was quiet, waiting for his friend to say more. Peter just sat back on his heels, rust colored hands folded in his lap.

"Do you still think Star Wars is the best movie series in the entire world?" Ned asked, peering at his friend with an unreadable expression.

Peter looked up. "Yeah, of course."

"Do you still think Snape is a horrible human being?"

"The worst."

"And you still like hot dogs without anything on them, root beer with lemonade in it, and popcorn with that butter powder stuff?"

Peter nodded.

"Then as far as I'm concerned, you're still very much Peter Parker, my best friend." Ned nodded definitely, as if this was the only thing that ever mattered.

Peter opened his mouth, but Ned cut him off.

"Stop. Blood or not, you were May's nephew. Spider powered vigilante or SHIELD agent, you desperately want to help people, all people. None of that changed! None of that is any different now!"

"But I was tricked, Fury knew-"

"Who cares?" Ned cut him off. "Peter, who cares? Like, really, who the hell even cares? You were 10! You were a kid! You were a kid, all that shit that Fury did and made you do and trained you for? That's on him. That's on his conscious. As far as I'm concerned, you're one of the nicest, most genuine, kind person I know. You're smart and considerate, and you're a bad ass! You just saved me from a gun wielding mutant without breaking a sweat after you jumped in a river!"

Peter huffed, the hint of a laugh in his breath. 

"You gotta stop letting other people tell your story," Ned said, standing up and holding out a hand to his friend. "You're Peter Parker, kid genius, superhero, and one hell of a best friend, regardless of who your parents are, who you once worked for, and who raised you."

Peter took Ned's hand and let himself be yanked up.

"Besides," Ned said heading up the stairs in front of Peter. "It'd be fucking awesome to start going by Peter Romanoff."