Chapter Text
Peter beelines to the bathroom while the rest of his tour group — including Ned — files into the cafeteria for lunch.
He doesn’t care if that’ll put him in the back of the line. He has trust that Stark Industries is rich enough to actually have the correct — if not more than needed — amount of food for everyone. And, besides, he really needs to go: Not really for the toilet, per se, but for the sink.
After all, he’s officially running out of time in this field trip to confirm with Harley — and he’s still yet to bring it up.
Thus, right now, he’s in desperate need of a wake up.
Peter takes a moment to figure out how to activate the motion-activating faucet. Then, before he can change his mind, he splashes his face with the freezing cold water.
Harley doesn’t tell them in advance where they are headed, nor how far from the last stop they are. Therefore, he has absolutely no clue when and where his opportunity to talk to him alone, without the gaze of his admirers, will arise — if it ever comes, that is.
Realistically, as he comes to realize, today’s the only day he can actually ask the Stark heir. Sure, there’s still the gap between this week and finals week, but catching the latter outside the Tower or Midtown Tech is much less plausible than now. Thus, however improbable it may seem at the moment, he’s much better off pushing to get it done during this trip.
Right. Which means he needs to get a move on. He can’t stay in the bathroom forever, especially not with the clock running.
He hears one of the stall doors open, but thinks nothing of it. He keeps his focus on the mirror in front of him, slightly distracted by the water droplets dripping from his face and the ends of his hair to the sink. That is, until he notices how identical his eyes are to the baby he interacted with back in R&D. The one Hawkeye said is named ‘Morgan.’
Come to think of it, Mr. Steve mentioned the newest addition to the Stark family is christened as ‘Morgan.’ Her name hasn’t been publicly announced yet, so the likelihood of infants bearing the same name is still low. And two baby ‘Morgan’s existing within the same vicinity and in close proximity to the Avengers are even lower.
So, therefore, the ‘Morgan’ he met can only be Morgan Stark.
And if they really do have identical eyes, doe and brown, as his recollection claims, then—
No. That’s an absurd. Brown eyes are literally the most common of the selection. He can’t add that to his list of supporting evidence, even if the shape also happens to be the same. Not even if—
"Excuse me," a voice interrupts his reverie effectively. "This . . . thing has run out of soap, can I just reach over you real quick—"
"Oh, yeah, sorry, of course, go ahead." Peter fights the urge to cringe due to how awkward his reply sounds. He takes a step back to give them more space to reach over.
Thankfully, the person doesn’t seem to notice his excessive response. "Thank you, young Peter."
What?
"How do you know my name—" The sudden mention of his name, when he hasn’t introduced himself, prompts him to whip his head toward the person’s direction. And to say that he’s surprised by who he sees there, with foam soap on one hand, will be an understatement. "Tho— Mr. Thor?"
Great. Peter’s Avenger sighting just went up to four, out of six. Not that he’s trying to catch them all like Pokémon or anything.
He doesn’t miss the panicked look that crosses the Avenger’s face for a second before the latter covers it with a dashing smile. "That thing around your neck."
"Oh." Needless to say, he has forgotten that he has a security badge hanging from his neck — which has his first and last names neatly printed on it. "Right." How silly of him to almost assume Thor is also told of him just because Mr. Steve was.
But, still. The Norse god could’ve addressed him more generally — like ‘human,’ ‘Earthling,’ ‘Midgardian,’ or anything with that same effect — and yet he made an effort to actually read his badge. Peter appreciates that a lot, even if the god will most certainly forget it once he exits.
"How are you finding the Tower?" Thor asks suddenly while he’s dabbing his face with his handkerchief. His initial thought is to use a paper towel from the dispensers — the same kind the Avenger is currently using to dry his hands — but thinks better of it. From what he can tell, it’s those slightly roughly-textured ones — which is probably unideal to wipe his face with, even if they smooth out once wet.
Truthfully, he only carries a handkerchief in case Tasha needs it. He never expected to actually have use for it himself.
"It’s awesome," he replies as nonchalantly as he can. He doesn’t want to annoy the god with his rambling, fearing that the latter will zap him with lightning if he does. "How— how about you?"
Well. If it isn’t quite obvious that Peter’s not doing well in conversing with a literal god, it’s definitely obvious now. He mentally bashes his head on the sink: Why did he return the question? "I mean— I mean when you first arrived in the Tower! How did— how did you find it?"
Peter holds his breath for the result of his attempt at saving his fumble. "It’s not as magnificent as Asgard, but Stark did his best."
Phew.
Now, he just needs to get out of here before he embarrasses himself further.
On instinct, he does a little pat-down to make sure he doesn’t forget anything before he takes his exit. However, it is then when he realizes that his security badge has been tucked under his shirt the entire time he’s conversing with the Avenger. Because he took a precautionary measure to prevent it from getting wet when he splashed his face with water.
Which means Thor couldn’t’ve possibly known his name because of his security badge.
Peter casts the Asgardian a sideway glance, suddenly wary.
⎊⎊⎊
Peter tries to rationalize all the weird stuff that has happened to him during this field trip so far.
Unfortunately, every time he seemingly succeeds, he remembers another instance that invalidates his rationale in some form or another.
First, there’s Mr. Steve full-on admitting that he has heard of him through Harley. Initially, he was mystified by how he could’ve possibly entered their conversation. But then, after sitting on it for a bit, he has concluded that Harley most likely talked about Horizon Junior High’s freshmen field trip to Midtown Tech. It’s not too far fetched for his name come up in their conversation if no one else managed to come close in beating Harley in a round of Academic Decathlon like he did.
Then there’s Dr. Banner’s smile after coughing. No, there’s nothing wrong about masking slight embarrassment with a smile. (He’s been there one too many times, so he completely understands.) What is slightly unsettling, though, is the kind of glint in his eyes when he smiled. Normally, when one coughs at the most inconvenient time, the look in their eyes generally says ‘kill me now.’ However, for Dr. Banner, his eyes shone like he knew something they didn’t. Peter doesn’t doubt that he does, but what he does doubt is the timing of it all. After all, it only appeared after Mr. Muzammil told him and Ned to apply for an internship.
For the life of him, he can’t figure out an explanation for that. Except that Dr. Banner really just remembered something in a terrible timing and he’s merely reading too much into it. Unfortunately, he can’t seem to fully convince himself that.
There’s also his encounter with Hawkeye. Peter hasn’t figured out how he managed to set off his Spidey-sense and why, when none of his fellow Avengers have, but that doesn’t seem connected to the matter at hand. It is something, sure, but it’s unrelated to how strange the trip is to the civilian him — which is his current focus. Other than that, there’s nothing worth of concern regarding the archer Avenger.
Thor, on the other hand . . . No offense to the Norse god and all, but he was definitely the worst one yet. Peter might not know the extent of his powers, but seeing through materials doesn’t seem to be part of them. Partly because he caught his moment of panic when he questioned him. Thus, the answer pertaining his security badge being a blurted lie is highly probable.
He doesn’t know why the Avenger found a need to lie. If he had learned of him and his name the way Mr. Steve did, then it would’ve been less arduous to tell the truth and just blame Harley. Unless Thor learned of him from a completely different circumstance that he couldn’t divulge. Which, in that case, puts him within the same uncertainty as that instance with Dr. Banner.
It doesn’t help that there’s this unspeakable resemblance to Morgan Stark.
Nor the AI in the ceiling’s deliberate choice to leave out the rest of his name. Potentially deliberate, at least.
Nor the requirement to have him on board for the entire field trip to even be more than a cancelled invitation.
Peter can certainly arrive at a conclusion with everything he knows so far, even with the excuses for some. He just doesn’t want to.
After all, whatever conclusion he arrives at will only be trampled by what Harley answers to his question. So it’s best to just focus his energy and brainpower in ensuring that he actually gets to ask.
Not just for his sake; but for Tasha, too, and everyone else who might be affected.
⎊⎊⎊
"What?" Ned shrills in his surprise.
Peter is quick to shush his best friend, looking around in alarm. "Keep your voice down."
Currently, they’re in the Stark Tower’s cafeteria. Although Harley referred to it as such, its layout closely resembles a mall food court more with various food stalls all around. The offered food varies from hamburgers, pastas, and pizzas to poke bowls, lumpia, and curry. Even the desserts come in variety — and the beverages just as well.
Really, the only thing that probably resembles a cafeteria — Horizon’s, in particular — is the need to scan their security badges before they can grab something.
Him and Ned occupy one of the secluded two-seater tables. Partly to hide the unholy amount of food he strategically used his three-scan limit in the cafeteria, but mostly so they can talk a little bit louder about everything they need to discuss without fearing that someone might overhear.
"Sorry," his best friend is instantly apologetic. He sweeps their surroundings with his eyes before he turns back to him, his voice notably softer, "You literally dropped a bomb on me! How can I not— You sounded so nonchalant about it, too."
"Because," Peter extends the end syllable as he gets some sinigang soup from Ned’s tray. Based on the latter’s reaction from the first sip and his satisfied "as it should be," he could only assume the dish had passed the taste accuracy/authenticity test. "It’s not really a big deal. I didn’t really get anything meaningful out of it."
That isn’t a lie, either, nor a futile attempt to act ‘cool.’ He doesn’t need his best friend to see him as such. He really just didn’t get anything out of the interactions, given that he didn’t get past the ‘woah’ without something happening.
"You literally met Hawkeye and Thor!" Ned rightfully begs to differ. He decidedly holds back on mentioning he crossed paths with Captain America also — partly to keep the Avenger’s cover up in case he’s still roaming around with his poor disguise, but mostly to avoid intensifying his best friend’s wrath.
"My senses also flared up a bit because of Hawkeye."
"You— What?" His friend is obviously a-taken back. "Why? I mean— Is that normal?"
"I don’t know," Peter answers honestly. To be fair, he hasn’t figured out the entirety of his spider powers yet. Besides, as others say, there’s always a first time for everything.
"Did it go off when we were with Dr. Banner? Or when you were with Thor?" He can see where Ned is going with his inquiries. The latter thinks his Spidey-sense might’ve gone off because he’s in the presence of an Avenger.
Although he sees the merit in that hypothesis, that doesn’t seem to be the case. "No, just with him." After all, he felt nothing when he was around a literal god that can easily smite him. Or when he was in proximity of a trigger-activated green humanoid that can squish him like a bug. "I don’t think it has anything to do with him being an Avenger."
Ned hums thoughtfully, eating a spoonful as he considers. Peter copies him.
"Do you think Hawkeye has been replaced?"
Peter almost choked at that. "Wha— What?"
"Think about it—" At that moment, as if on cue, he feels his Spidey-sense hum back to life — just like it did in R&D when Hawkeye arrived. Is the archer nearby again? But why is it humming a little faster? "Wait, why are you looking around like that— Do we have to evacuate—"
If Ned hasn’t said anything, Peter wouldn’t’ve even noticed that he has been looking around rather wildly. Since the humming isn’t quite exact to the one specific to Hawkeye, he isn’t comfortable brushing it off. At the very least, he wants to identify who or what his Spidey-sense is warning him about.
"Hang on." He stops moving and closes his eyes. He concentrates on willing his senses to point him towards the cause of the warning. Then, when he opens his eyes, he finds himself facing the direction of a feminine figure seemingly walking towards their way.
Peter turns back to Ned as soon he spots the red hair. "Don’t freak out."
"Hearing you say that makes me feel like I definitely should."
"It’s nothing bad," he promises. "Black Widow is just heading this way."
At the mention of the Avenger’s name, Peter remembers something he has been trying his hardest not to pay any mind ever since the field trip began. It’s the feeling on being constantly watched.
His natural conclusion about it had been JARVIS, especially since Harley didn’t forget to mention how the AI "hears and sees everything."
He doesn’t question how no one has mentioned the slightly unsettling feeling because he understands their senses are much too dull to pick up on it, as it’s subtle enough. He has deduced that, really, he only feels it because of his dialed-to-eleven senses. Thus, naturally, to keep his secret, he has to ignore it.
However, thinking back, it might not necessarily be the case. After all, he’s currently in the territory of geniuses and master spies.
"You guys still have space for dessert?" Black Widow asks them in lieu of a traditional greeting. She shows them three individually-packed Cosmic Brownies.
"Who doesn’t always?" Bless Ned for being quick-witted because, frankly, Peter is currently frozen in his seat. Not out of fear, per se, but because he’s partially lost in his thoughts.
With Black Widow there, his Avenger sighting counter is now at five. Which means he has officially met every Avenger except his most favorite. Well, that is, if he doesn’t count the fact that the Avenger in question literally saved his life back then — well before he was even one.
Black Widow seems to approve of Ned’s answer based on the softer expression on her face. She places one of the Cosmic Brownies near him and does the same to him before he can even say that he’s good without it.
Admittedly, that’ll be a boldfaced lie since he can eat more than any human on average, but Peter isn’t really a fan of accepting food from strangers — even if the stranger handing it out also happens to be an Avenger. He supposes that’s a lingering effect of what he has been through in the hands of some. After all, he has been forced to lived through things he has longed to bury because of them.
"Give the other one to Tasha," the Avenger says when he raises his head after he seeing her put the third Cosmic Brownie on top of the one she placed down for him. "You’ll see her later, right?"
"How do you know my sister?" He questions, his voice full of surprise, puzzle, and suspicion all at once.
Black Widow is nonchalant in her response, "I’ve met her before." Unsurprisingly, it only causes him to be more suspicious. "Tell her it’s from Ms. Tasha. She’ll know who you’re talking about."
Peter is still skeptical, but stands down nonetheless. He would’ve known if Tasha has interacted with the Black Widow, surely, since his sister tells him everything. Right? "Thank you, Ms. Black Widow."
The Avenger leaves soon after that, seemingly satisfied with her delivery.
Ned waits until she’s out of the room before starting a conversation. "She’s the one that set off your Spidey-sense?"
"Yeah," he affirms with a slow nod. "So, for the record, it’s Hawkeye and Black Widow now."
Right off the bat, Peter eliminates their shared Avenger status as one of the potential reasons. He has already figured, before Black Widow appeared, it wasn’t connected to that and her appearance didn’t change that.
If her appearance change anything, it’ll certainly be his line of thinking’s focus. Because now he only he needs to zero in on whatever they — her and Hawkeye — have in common.
Out of the six people in the Avengers roster, only four have their civilian names publicly available. Iron Man? Tony Stark. Captain America? Steve Rogers. Hulk? Bruce Banner. Thor? . . . Thor, of Asgard. Hawkeye and Black Widow? Both classified.
Why? Most likely because of what they did for a living before becoming an Avenger.
Spies: They were spies. Master spies. Not only that, they were also—
"Do you think it has something to do with them being trained assassins?" Ned seemingly arrives at the same conclusion he has, at the same moment.
He nods thoughtfully, "It makes the most sense."
—assassins. Master assassins.
And although Peter believes neither Black Widow nor Hawkeye will hurt him in any way, without reason, he understands why their mere proximities activate his Spidey-sense. Contrast to the other four Avengers, the two have a dark wave of intimidation surrounding them. It almost feels like one wrong move against them will guarantee an early death.
Sure, all of the Avengers are intimidating enough to make anyone think twice about messing with them, but Hawkeye’s and Black Widow’s intimidating aura is far more intense. No one will even think about messing with them.
In short, both Hawkeye and Black Widow made his Spidey-sense hum because they may pose potential danger if provoked. It isn’t a full-on flare because the danger they personified isn’t an actual one until then.
Peter ultimately eats his brownie after Ned takes a bite of his, partly to check in Tasha’s behalf if it’s safe to eat and mostly to appease Black Widow in case she’s watching him from somewhere. He can’t afford to be in her bad side, after all.
⎊⎊⎊
Peter’s ticking clock is now best represented by the elevator continuously moving upward.
Somehow, the universe has spared him from the embarrassment of coming up with some lame excuse to talk to Harley privately. By some miracle or another, Harley has approached his and Ned’s table and asked to "borrow [him] for a minute."
Neither of them have any clues on why the Stark heir needs to whisk him away temporarily. However, they seem to have come to a consensus — without even confirming with one another — that it’ll be his chance to finally talk to the latter. It’s his now and never.
Peter’s rightfully convinced that the universe is now looking down at him, pinching the bridge of its nose, utterly displeased. After all, it literally left him the easiest part — asking the question — and he’s in there wasting the opportunity.
In his defense, Harley literally hit him with "There’s someone I want you to meet," as soon as they’re out of everyone’s earshot. And then he proceeds to lead him toward the exclusive elevator: specifically the one he explicitly told the tour group to be exclusively for the Avengers, the Head of Security, and the Starks. "I showed them the video from two weeks ago and they were really impressed by how you were able to keep up."
Because of that, he’s temporarily distracted by wondering who the "someone" can possibly be. The elevator alone cuts the possible answers to eight people — namely, the Head of Security, the SI CEO, and the six Avengers. By this point, he has met five of the Avengers already, but that doesn’t exclude them from the possibility. After all, apart from Dr. Banner, he met the rest by chance — whether they orchestrated it themselves or it was by complete coincidence. Harley may be utterly unaware of those meetings. It can also be that Harley has arranged a more formal meeting just because.
Three things are for certain, though, whatever the case may be: One, Harley has just given him the answer to why it’s imperative that he’s one of the confirmed attendees in this rushed, almost impromptu field trip. It’s essentially an elaborate plan to get him into the Tower and be introduced to whoever is waiting for them at the destination floor.
Two: Harley also just confirmed something for him, albeit it’s not the matter with the most importance. It’s his hypothesis on how some of the Avengers (i.e., Steve and Thor) knew him before he even introduced himself. As suspected, they had heard of him because Harley has talked about Horizon’s visit to Midtown Tech. What he didn’t suspect, though, was the Stark heir actually backing up his storytelling with video evidence. It has completely slipped his mind that Harley could’ve gotten a copy of that video.
And, finally, three: Peter is definitely running out of time now. He’s not informed of what floor they’re getting off at nor what’s the highest floor number is, so they really can arrive at their destination every second the elevator continues to ascend. Which means, it literally has no time to delay any longer. He can’t even comment on Harley’s statement. He has to do ask now.
"Harley, I—" He manages to get out the same second the elevator doors open, signaling their arrival to their destination floor. He internally grimaces at his perfect timing, but he doesn’t let it deter him. He might be down to the last second now, but that doesn’t mean he should give up right that second. "I need to ask you—"
And, as if the universe is expressing its displeasure with him for taking his sweet time, he’s effectively interrupted by the widest set of double doors opening. Both him and Harley stop in their tracks as the doors reveal Pepper Potts-Stark — the most influential woman in the world, Stark Industries’ CEO, and Tony Stark’s wife.
But, strangely, those aren’t the only titles Peter’s mind registered her as. To him, Pepper Potts-Stark is also— "Mom?"
Pepper Potts-Stark immediately halts in her tracks.
It takes a second for Peter to register why she has done so. When it does finally sink in, a hand immediately flies over his mouth. Did he really just say that out loud?
"Excuse me?" There it goes: Any hope for his slip-up going unheard, out the window.
This is so embarrassing! "I— I am so sorry! It just slipped out! I didn’t— I didn’t mean to—"
Peter is willing the floor to swallow him whole. He can’t believe he just called Ms. Potts — Stark Industries’ CEO — "Mom"! He just blew all his hopes and dreams of interning and working for SI! On the same day an actual SI employee told him he has a lot of potential, no less! To top it off, he also blurted it out in front of her actual son, the Stark heir!
Can this moment get any worse— "Do you remember me, Pietro?"
His internal panic comes to a standstill at Ms. Potts’ question. "What?"
He fixes his eyes on her, trying to read what she means through her body language. He searches for any indication that she regrets what she just asked; that she just mistakes him for someone else. But all he finds is hope.
It’s not something he can hold onto. After all, as much as he’s been waiting to find his family, the Starks have been waiting for the missing members, too. They might just be projecting at one another, seeing things that aren’t actually there. Or maybe they really aren’t.
There’s only one (quick) way to find out.
Peter turns to Harley, his question finally at the tip of his tongue. "When you were— When we were younger, did you ever tell me off for giving our baby sister Legos?"
He witnesses Harley exhale in relief. "I did. More than once." The latter chuckles soundlessly before adding on, "You’d run to Mom, I’d follow you, we’d tell on each other, and Mom—"
"—she’d look at our bare feet, tell us to wear our slippers, and come back," he finishes for him.
"Yes." Peter loosens the tension on his shoulders at that. Harley has basically gave him confirmation twice. "We’d do what she told us and—"
"—we’d return with Tasha, too, because we didn’t want to leave her alone for the second time."
Harley’s voice this time sounds a little tight, "Yeah," but he doesn’t dwell on it.
Three back-to-back confirmation is enough for Peter to stop questioning it. In place of his doubt is his awe at finally locating his biological family. He has spent a good part of the nine years wondering when he’ll get to be in the same room with them, almost replacing the ‘when’ with ‘if’ multiple times, and, now, he’s finally living it.
Everything just feels surreal.
For the longest time, his memories from before the kidnapping have only been emotions. Although he remembers how big their biological family is (a dad, a mom, an older brother), he only remembers what he felt around them then. There weren’t any scenes that explained why he felt so. There were titles, certainly, but no faces.
He eventually remembers some physical features of their older brother when he happened to see him in a subway. He had a hat covering a portion of his face then, so he wasn’t able to see his face at its entirety, but he was at least able to grasp that he looked undeniably similar to Tasha.
After he met Harley two weeks ago, his memories gradually painted the scenes.
And, now, he has their faces, names, presences, and everything he can ever hope for.
He returns his attention to Ms. Potts. "I remember you . . . kind of. I remember I’m supposed to call you ‘mom.’"
Ms. Potts wipes away the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. Before he can even ask if she’s okay, a smile has already appeared on her lips. "That’s right."
Peter has to fight back his tears. He feels uneasy seeing her cry. Especially since her tears are because of him. He decides right then and there that it’ll be the last time he makes her cry.
He thinks of a way to make her laugh. "Did I really drink motor oil—"
"That one was on me." A new voice joins the conversation. He only has to move his head slightly for his eyes to land on the person that claimed one of Ms. Potts’ sides. "DUM-E thought you were thirsty, so he gave you his special smoothie."
Peter stops breathing. He knows him. Not just as Iron Man, the genius Avenger, nor the owner of Stark Industries. Not even just as Tony Stark, Pepper Potts-Stark’s husband, and Harley Stark’s father.
He’s the person that used to tuck him to bed with stories about what makes up the universe. ". . . Dad?"
He smiles, "Hi, Pietro."
Those two words are enough to set off his tears. And, before he even knows it, Peter’s already running straight into his arms. "Dad!"
Mr. Stark catches him with ease and engulfs him in the tightest hug possible without crushing his ribs. He feels the former hold him by his back and his head, presumably like he did when he was still a baby.
When Peter breathes again, he takes in a new, yet familiar scent. His brain immediately identifies it as ‘Dad’ — as though that information has always been within his subconscious.
He doesn’t know how long they held onto each other, but they separate eventually. Even then, Mr. Stark metaphorically refuses to let him go by keeping his eyes locked on his face. He’s looking at him like he’s taking in how much he has changed since the last time he saw him; like he’s memorizing how he grew into the features he inherited from him and Ms. Potts.
In return, Peter marvels at finally knowing who his biological parents are. And, by extension, at finally knowing who he actually is.
"How did you guys know who I was?" He wonders once Harley and Ms. Potts approach closer. He wipes his tears with the back of his hand.
Harley messes his hair affectionately. He must’ve missed doing that. "The same way you knew who we were right away."
"How did you confirm it?" It’s something he struggled with, right to the very last second, so he’s curious how the confirmation process has been on their end.
He suspects they have gathered indisputable proof, given that they are susceptible to people pretending to be someone they aren’t. Fortunately, along with that inconvenience is the access to state-of-the-art resources — which, he presumes, they used one from.
"Harley managed to get a DNA sample from you." Ms. Potts nonverbally offers him a handkerchief for the tears that still keeps on flowing down his cheeks, but he politely declines — taking out his own from his back pocket. Admittedly, for a minute there, he has forgotten that he has one.
He racks his brain for anything he could’ve possibly left in Harley’s care that carried his DNA. During Horizon’s freshmen field trip two weeks ago, he only interacted with him at the Academic Decathlon table, so the DNA collection definitely must’ve happened there. He remembers holding a buzzer as they played a round with it. He remembers being recorded by Harry Osborn, Harley’s best friend and OsCorp’s heir, as they play, for their club’s end-of-year montage. He remembers— ah. "The ball pen?"
"The ball pen," Harley confirms.
In hindsight, he should’ve known. If he remembers correctly, Harley somehow found a way that only him used that fancy Stark Industries pen to sign his name on the interest sheet. But, then again, he had been so naturally about keeping that particular pen out of everyone else’s reach that Peter didn’t even realize it until now.
"Smart," he compliments him succinctly.
His brother gives him a small smirk, "I try."
There’s no denying it now, then.
Peter Benjamin Parker really is Pietro Cassidy Stark — second eldest of Pepper Potts- and Tony Stark, younger brother to Harley, older brother to Alia/Tasha and Morgan.
(Later, once they settle inside Mom’s office suite, Pietro asks one final question that has been bothering him since the tour began: "Why did JARVIS only call me ‘Peter’ when he called everyone else by their full names?"
His brother is quick to throw Dad under the bus, "Blame Dad."
"JARVIS might have an attitude at times, but he only tells the truth." Dad is nonchalant, notably unbothered by the betrayal. "I can’t have him lying — even for you, Pietro."
"What your dad means, honey," Mom begins to translate, "is he can’t stomach calling you by your other name."
"Exactly," Harley corroborates almost immediately. "Dad only agreed on ‘Peter’ because we’re the ones that gave you that nickname.")