Little Peter swung across the city, taking in the beautiful skyline.
"It's going to snow…" he murmured, glancing at the Christmas tree set up outside a shopping mall. He looked at it with a hint of envy, though not for long.
Since Uncle Ben's death, even though Aunt May still organized birthdays and holidays for him, Peter always felt like something was missing.
Wait… Aunt May!
"Oh no! Aunt May asked me to buy ingredients—I forgot!"
Peter yelped and dropped straight from a rooftop into a dark alley.
A moment later, he hurried into a nearby store in his normal clothes. Those were the ingredients for tomorrow's meal—if he forgot them, he'd definitely get scolded.
After all, he was still just a fifteen-year-old kid. Being afraid of an adult's reprimand was only natural. Aunt May was actually very gentle—she knew how to communicate, had patience, and never forced her frustrations from work or life onto Peter. She supported what he wanted to do. To Peter, she was the perfect parent.
And, of course, she was beautiful.
"That'll be four dollars," the shop owner said after ringing up the items.
"Four dollars… here…" Peter patted himself down—and froze. The money Aunt May had given him was gone.
After a moment's thought, he realized the truth. He'd used it all to help the old lady
earlier.
Seeing Peter's embarrassed expression, the shop owner immediately understood. A kind smile appeared on his face.
"You didn't bring any money, did you?"
"Y-Yes… Could I maybe… pay later?" Peter lowered his head as much as possible, his voice shrinking. Teenage boys cared about their pride.
"Heh…" The owner chuckled, and under Peter's hopeful gaze, replied bluntly, "No."
"If you don't have money, don't come here to buy things. This isn't a charity. Credit? Nice idea."
He mocked Peter mercilessly and waved him off, about to push him out—when his hand stopped midair.
A green banknote was held in front of him.
"I'll pay for him. Any problem with that?"
Renzo stood behind Peter, tall and composed, dressed in a custom-tailored suit made of expensive fabric. Wanda stood beside him, wearing a dark red dress and a plush coat against the cold. Her already beautiful face looked even more stunning with light makeup—when Renzo had first seen her like this, he'd nearly lost his composure.
Seeing their elegant appearance and composed demeanor, the shop owner didn't dare say anything further. He quietly took the money, gave the change, and watched the three leave, muttering to himself about his lack of luck in finding such a beautiful girlfriend.
"Sir… I… I don't have the money to pay you back…" Peter said softly once they stepped outside, his head lowered, too embarrassed to meet their eyes.
He didn't dare look up. The two people in front of him clearly looked wealthy—just the suit alone probably cost more than everything he owned.
Peter couldn't understand why they had paid for him. In his simple mind, it was just a rich person acting on a whim of kindness.
"Do you like superheroes?" Renzo asked.
"Huh?" Peter blinked, confused by the sudden question.
"The shirt you're wearing has Tony Stark on it," Renzo pointed out, gesturing to Peter's partially open jacket, revealing the thin shirt underneath. "Aren't you cold, wearing so little?"
Startled, Peter quickly zipped his jacket. His enhanced physique meant he didn't feel the cold much, but he still had to act normal.
"I… forgot… it's warm inside the store…"
Wanda watched Peter's flustered expression and couldn't help covering her mouth as she laughed. He was so innocent—it reminded her of when she and Pietro were his age.
Back then, they had wandered homeless, relying on odd jobs to survive. Sometimes they could only afford one meal a day. Pietro would always pretend he had already eaten and push the food toward her, then secretly drink water at night to stave off hunger.
They protested, boycotted Stark Industries, wore their parents' worn-out coats—full of burn marks and holes. On cold nights, they huddled together under bridges for warmth, staring up at the stars.
Later, they were taken by HYDRA, became the only successful subjects of the Mind Stone experiments, met Ultron, joined the Avengers… and then—
Wanda turned her head and looked at Renzo. Her gaze softened as she fell into memory. When he looked back, she gave him a playful wink.
She would never forget that moment in Sokovia—the ridiculous expression on his face, and the worry in his eyes.
Peter, watching the two exchange affectionate looks, suddenly felt very out of place.
"Uh… sir… I'll get going…" he muttered, eager not to be a third wheel.
"Hey."
Peter had only taken a few steps when Renzo called out.
"Peter Parker. That's your name."
Peter turned, startled. How did this man know?
"It's written on your schoolbag," Renzo said with a faint smile. "Thanks for what you did back there. Good job."
Then Renzo and Wanda walked away hand in hand, leaving Peter standing there, stunned.
"Are you thinking of recruiting him into the Avengers? Isn't he too young?" Wanda asked softly, resting her head on Renzo's shoulder.
"Kids his age don't fully understand right and wrong. It's easy for politicians to manipulate them."
"I trust him."
Renzo gently stroked Wanda's hair, pulling her coat tighter to shield her from the cold.
"I've seen him in another universe. He's shy, reliable… and capable of standing on his own."
Renzo thought of the time he'd spent with Peter—longer than with the Avengers themselves. And Aunt May, that kind woman who always invited him for dinner, invitations he'd always dodged with excuses.
He couldn't help but laugh, earning an eye-roll from Wanda. Thinking about someone else while on a date with her? Clearly, he hadn't had enough of the drop tower rides. She'd make sure they went again tomorrow.
"I'll introduce you to him when the time's right…"
"In his world, there are no Avengers. No alien invasions. When we retire… we'll go there and live."
"…That sounds nice."
__________________________________________
You can read early chapters on Patr*on. If you enjoy my work and would like to support me, consider becoming a patron. My Patr*on username is Renzo28557.