Peter Hendrix, born on August 11, 1917, and orphaned in 1922 and lived on the streets until his friend James Barnes' parents die and Peter moves in with him and his younger sister. Being close friends for five years leads to new feelings arising, maybe just friends isn't enough.
In 1933, soon after a new dictator takes over Germany, the science devision goes after their old employee's son.
Pain was all he knew until a cold freedom.
Peter woke up in a sealed metal container with a window and no idea where he was at.
In the chaos aftermath of the blip and people coming back, Peter is easily taken into foster care with little questions asked.
What happens when he starts school? An internship? A semi truck with a drunk driver? An infection? Will Peter Hendrix? Parker? Murdock? Stark? Make it back to the one person who really knows him?
A Marvel Fanfiction post Endgame with everyone still alive(Tony,Nat,Steve,Vision).
TRIGGER WARNING:Includes pain, torture, suicidal thoughts and actions, mentioning of sexual assault, homophobia, arachnophobia, death, blood, hospitals?, and more, be aware.
I DO NOT OWN MARVEL CHARACTERS, MOVIES, SCENES, DIALOGUE, SETTINGS, ECT. I wish though, that would be so cool, a lot of people on your back though, so maybe not so cool. I ONLY OWN MY CHARACTERS SUCH AS SAWYER, MATTHEW, and ELIJAH.
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. IT IS MY PLOT AND STORY(as far as I know, I haven't seen anything along the lines of this, I'd like to know if there is something similar out there though just because I'm curious. I haven't seen anything like it before though.) YOU GET THE PICTURE.
It's almost funny. How grief sneaks up on you. One second, you're fine; you're coping well and then it hits you like a bullet, tearing right through your heart, almost killing you on the spot. Grief is a monster that lies dormant in the darkest quarters of your mind, growing stronger and stronger until you can't fight anymore. Until you can't breathe.
Peter was fractured. The monster having grown too big, and without any support left to hold him up, the world of drugs dug its claws into him. And it was slowly killing him, like a sickly sweet poison that dulled the pain while quietly feeding on his soul. He was powerless to stop it. He was too tired to stop it.
Tony was doing pretty good. Aside from having died, he was doing pretty good. Resurrected from the dead, check. Thanos dead, check. Wife and daughter thriving, check. He'd never expected to get his life back, that was for sure. He was thankful for the second chance. Unfortunately, Tony was quick to discover that the kid had all but lost his own life. It felt like a knife slowly twisting into his chest every time he saw the kid: in agony. Now Tony wasn't exactly the poster-child for a good emotional support figure, but he wasn't about to sit back and let this continue. No matter how hard the kid fought him, no matter how much resistance he was met with, Tony would help the kid. Still, he couldn't help the fear that laced his blood.
Tony couldn't help but question whether he would be able to save Peter from the weight of grief.
**NO Starker**
Triggers Warnings:
Substance Use/Abuse
Depressive and/or Suicidal Thoughts/Mentions
Rape Threats/Mentions
Descriptive Blood/Minimal Gore
Some Self-Harm
Coarse Language
Mental Illness (various)
This is a heavier story, so please don't read if you're not comfortable with any of the above triggers. Stay safe!
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it!
Fanfiction Story by Kale_Kabbage
Most characters, and prequel themes are owned by Marvel®