A/N: Whoa, it has been some time.

How is everyone doing? Is everyone doing alright in quarantine?

I don't really know what else to say, cause what else can you say in a situation like this, so...I don't know. I hope everyone is staying safe.

It wasn't often when Peter mentioned his parents.

If he ever did, it was usually to Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben handled death much better than Aunt May did.

Uncle Ben looked back at dead loved ones with smiles. He laughed, and told Peter these funny stories about people.

May responded about as well as Peter reacted to the death of a loved one: Not well at all.

At the mention of Peter's parents immediately caused May's eyes to water.

"Richard and Mary?" She asked softly.

Peter nodded slowly.

"What Richard was-" May shook her head. "Peter, your father was a very secretive man-"

"-But he had to have told you something, May." He touched her arm. "Look, I-I don't remember much about them, but I remember that day. Dad knew that something bad was going to happen to him and Mom, didn't he? That's why he left me with you guys instead of the Watsons."

"Peter," May said slowly. "What's this about?"

Peter stared at her.

"Don't I have the right to know?"

May glanced straight ahead.

"Aunt May," Peter begged. "What was my dad hiding?"

"Peter-"

"Please, you have to tell me-"

"I will." She stood up. "When you're older. Now, it's late, and it's time for-"

"I met Quintin Beck!"

Pause.

May's eyes widened. The two stared at each other for a moment.

"I...I'm sorry?" May muttered.

"I met Quintin Beck." Peter stood up. "And he said a lot of not nice things about Dad."

"Peter-"

"Aunt May, please." Peter touched her shoulders. "I need to know."

Aunt May stared at her child for an entire minute. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Peter," She said softly.

"I need to know the truth." He insisted. "And I can't wait another four years for it. Please, Aunt May."

Her lip quivered. She hugged him.

Peter took a shaky breath. "May?"

She pulled back a little.

"I'm not sure." She said. She wiped stray tears from her face. "Oh, honey, your uncle knew more about this-this mess."

"But you do know something?" Peter insisted.

Aunt May hesitated for a moment, before nodding.

"Beck was your father's lab assistant, and they left on bad terms." May said. "That's all I know about that. As to what your father was doing before he died, well...I'm not quite sure either...Hold on a moment, dear."

She left the living room, and came back a moment later with a yellowing envelope. She handed it to Peter.

Peter studied the envelope. He could tell by the tape that it had been previously opened. He flipped it over, and was greeted by a messy handwriting.

'For Peter. Open after college.'

"What if I didn't end up going to college?" Peter joked.

May smiled shakily. "Then you'd never get to find out what's in the envelope."

The teenager smiled slightly, before frowning at it. He weighed it in his hands.

Whatever was in there, it was light.

After a moment, Peter opened it. He peered into the envelope, and discovered a key, and a small folded note.

"It's for a storage unit." May explained. "Ben looked up the address."

Peter tugged out the key, and rolled it in his hand.

"Did you find out what was in it?" He asked.

May shook her head. "We wanted to leave that to you."

Peter stared at the key. His eyes began to water.

May immediately hugged him.

"He loved you, baby." She said softly.

Peter wasn't sure if she was talking about Uncle Ben or Richard Parker. Something told him that he could use the two interchangeably.

Peter didn't go to school that day. He texted his friends that they could meet after school to discuss his discovery.

For that moment, May decided that Peter needed rest, and Peter decided to go out as Spider-Man for a little bit. He just needed to clear his head for a bit.

The joys of swinging around the city weren't as prominent as usual. There was no sense of relaxation, just stress, stress, stress.

'What did my dad do to make Beck hate him so much?' Peter quickly dodged a news helicopter. 'It's not a case of 'revenge on an old boss who fired me' if he quit. Why did he quit, then?'

His frown deepened. 'Someone likes to keep their identity a secret. What will he do once he finds out that we know who he is?'

Peter landed near his school. He watched as the students entered, making sure that the stranglers were inside, before continuing on.

'Maybe I should hold off the meeting.' He thought. 'Maybe everyone should keep a low profile-'

His phone buzzed.

EB: Bro, where are you?

Peter typed up a quick response.

'So far, I have no clue if Eddie's dad was involved. That's good.'

Spider-Man tucked the phone back into his pocket, and jumped off the building.

'I think the next step for me, as a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, is to find out where exactly Beck is hiding.'

The sound of repulsors almost made Peter fall.

"Hey, Spider-Man!" Iron-Man called out. "Mind if we chat for a second?"

Memories of the night before flickered into Peter's mind.

"Slicha!" Peter replied. "Ani lo medaber Anglet!"

He turned a corner. Iron-Man followed him.

"Sorry, were you just speaking in Hebrew?" Peter imagined Tony Stark raising an eyebrow at him.

"Lo."

Iron-Man sighed. "Can you pull over? I need to ask you about something that happened the other night."

"No, sorry! I..uh...I'm late for class."

"This won't take too long. Just, pull over."

'I'm stuck.'

Spider-Man landed on a building. He crawled to an edge, before sitting comfortably on a flagpole.

Iron-Man landed in front of him.

"Right," He said. "There was a kid last night who stopped by the Mansion."

"Fanboy?" Spidey cocked his head, deepening his voice. "What, did he break in or-"

"No. But he had a pretty interesting conversation with my AI last night." Iron-Man held out his arm.

A recording of the conversation started to play.

"JARVIS told me that his vitals showed that he was under a lot of stress. It seems like he was running away from something." Iron-Man lowered his arm. "Did you see anything last night?"

"Sounds like he was on drugs."

Mentally, Peter winced.

"Could be." Iron-Man agreed. "But we don't think so. You probably know him. He's that Bugle kid. The one who takes pictures of you."

'Shit shit shit shit-'

"Oh...uh...Parker?" Spider-Man asked, praying that the changes that he was making to his voice were subtle enough. "Oh, yeah. Uh...No. Sorry. I didn't see him."

Iron-Man sighed. "You sure?"

The webhead shrugged. "I let him take my pics. I don't know his life story."

"Right." The billionaire replied. "Thanks for the chat."

And with that, he left.

Peter stared after him with his mouth dropped open.

It took him some time to realize two things:

His biological dad might actually care about him?

His biological, superhero dad might get involved in Peter's case.

Not that it really mattered, once he got home.

On the way home, Peter had stopped to change. Since it was the middle of the day, he didn't want to walk into his apartment's alley, where a random stranger might see him breaking into his own bedroom.

The elevator door was broken, so Peter had to take the stairs. He was a bit distracted, mentally, by the conversation he...Spider-Man had with Iron-Man. It gave him a bit of hope, to be perfectly honest. Hope that had started to dim these past few weeks.

Like...yeah, it was a little annoying that Mr. Stark was sticking into a case without talking to Peter about it first, but maybe this was a sign that maybe, just maybe-

Peter froze. He gapped at his front door, keys slipping from his fingertips, back into his pocket.

Red paint glimmered in the hallways lighting. Fumes wafted, causing his nostrils to burn. He didn't focus on that, though. He had trouble focusing on anything besides the words that he kept reading over and over again.

'I wonder if her blood is as red as her hair.'