**By popular request, here's a pt. 2 for Domestic Affairs. I'm going to experiment with time skips, that way we can see the boys growing up with the Avengers and coming into their own. This is really about Peter and Harley up until the very end, I hope y'all enjoy it!**

The Avengers loved the boys so much it hurt. From the first steps stumbling through the living room, when Natasha caught Peter as he fell, to the first words Harley babbled out at Bruce one morning, they were there for all of it. They were as invested as Pepper and Tony. They were aunts and uncles.

At 5 years old, Peter and Harley were allowed to go to a public elementary school. Despite who they were, and who had raised them, everyone wanted to boor kids to be raised as 'normal' as possible. They wanted them to have friends and to play at recess and color.

That didn't mean the first day jitters were easy for anyone. Tony was unashamed to let a few tears slip as he hugged his two boys, and Natasha almost didn't let go of Peter's shoulders, while Clint wouldn't let Harley off his shoulders. If it wasn't clear before, it was now. Natasha was Peter's favorite, besides Tony, and Harley was enamored by Clint's stupid humor and silly pranks.

But eventually, the two boys had been separated from the family of superheroes and headed into the crowded and confusing school.

When Peter came home with a scraped knee, Tony had nearly gone bizzerk, threatening to storm the school before Pepper could calm him down.

"All better, маленький паук," Natasha said softly, smoothing a band aid over the boy's knee.

"Is got Dad on it!"

Natasha smiled. "Yup!"

Harley babbled on to Clint and Sam about his first day excitedly. It was clear even then that Harley and Peter weren't like one another. One was going to be popular, the other was going to be popular only for being such a loser.

~5 years later~

"I don't need to cut my hair," Harley said, pushing his mother's hand away from his face.

"But baby, I can't see your eyes!"

"I like it this way!"

The two bickered for a moment, Peter engaged in his book. Harley had been growing into his own ego for a while now, and Peter was pretty used to it by now. Every ounce of ego Harley had, he had taken it from Peter, who couldn't be more modest. He was bookish. He liked science and math. He tinkered with his dad in the labs.

Harley, on the other hand, played football and soccer. He made jokes in class, and despite being Peter's equal when it came to intelligence, he never pushed to go farther or entered the  optional science fairs.

"Peter," Pepper said exasperatedly. "Don't think your brother's hair is getting a little long?"

Peter looked up from his book, something his Uncle Bruce had written, and pursed his lips. "If he doesn't want to cut it, he shouldn't cut it?"

Harley crossed his mom and shot a look at his mom. "See? Peter is with me."

~5 years later~

Harley grabbed his coat and keys, heading to the elevator. "I'm going to pick up Sarah!" He hit the button, then pulled out his phone to text his girlfriend.

Tony hummed in reply, waving his hand at his son to get going. "Have fun!"

The ding of the elevator made Harley step forward, nearly knocking his brother down. "Sorry, Pete, I- Holy shit, what happened to your face?"

Peter's eyes, well, his eye that wasn't swollen, widened and he shook his head at his brother.

"What?" Tony called from the living room. "Is Peter home? What's wrong with his face?"

"Uh," Harley stalled for a minute. "Nothing. Just a shadow, I thought he had face paint on or something."

Tony laughed and Peter's face relaxed. Thanks, he mouthed.

Harley left, and Peter crept around the corner of the living room, hiding his face as best as possible.

"Hey, Dad, I have a ton of homework tonight. I'm going to go get a headstart."

Tony didn't even look up from his paper, thank God.

"Okay, Underoos. I'll let you know when dinner is ready."

Peter went into his room, then into the on suite he and Harley shared. It was squished between their rooms.

His eye looked pretty bad, but a little cool water and time would heal it quickly. If there was one thing that spider bite did, it was help keep the bullying a secret.

The young man wet a towel with cold water, rung it out, and then pressed it over his eye. Relief flooded his body as the bruise came in contact with the cold compress. He sighed contentedly, then launched himself onto his bed and pulled out his textbook. He wasn't exactly lying when he said he had homework, and he might as well get some of it done while he was stuck in his room.

In fact, Peter got so absorbed in the reading that he jumped when Harley knocked on the door and walked in.

"Hey."

"Hey," Peter said, shutting his book and tossing it onto the floor.  "I thought you were going out for dinner?"

Harley shrugged. "Sarah wasn't feel very well so we cut it short. What happened to your face and why didn't you want Dad to know."

The other teen sighed. "Flash Thompson has a problem with me, but it's nothing I can't handle. I just don't want Dad or the others to overreact and kill the kid."

Harley chuckled, but it never really met his eyes. "Can I see it?"

Brown eyes darted around the room, avoiding the piercing blue ones never leaving Peter's face. "I think it's fine."

"I think you're about to go out into the kitchen with a black eye, I need to see it so we can come up with a cover story."

"I won't need a cover story."

"You will! If you say this happened in basketball or something," Harley started, his eyebrow raising slowly. "I will tell them the truth."

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but there was a knock at the door and both boys looked up.

"Dinner!" Steve called from outside.

Harley got up, watching his brother put away his books. "See you out there, Pete."

Peter nodded and heard the door close. Tossing the last of his stuff into his bag, he headed back into the on suite and put the cold compress in the sink. His eye was fine again. The pinkish-pale skin was smooth and unblemished, all traces of the bruise gone.

I'll tell Harley it wasn't as bad as he thought, Peter planned in his head, coming into the kitchen.

"Hey, Peter, how was school?"

"Got all that homework done?"

"Can I get you a plate?"

The family of superheroes bustled around the kitchen, tossing questions at the boy easily.

"School was good! All my homework is done, too!"

Peter's eyes found his brother's. Harley was standing in the corner, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide.

"Pass me a plate, please."

~1 year later~

Harley checked his phone worriedly. Spiderman had been seen out and about last night and Peter never came home last night. He'd covered it well with his parents, shoving pillows under the blankets and distracting them and all that.

"Come on, Peter," the boy muttered to himself.

In the last year, the two had gotten closer. Harley had never been particularly close to his brother before last year, partially because they were just so different. Peter was, in Harley's mind, a nerd. A loser. Kind of boring.

Of course Harley loved him, but he never really felt like his brother was cool. And cool was Harley's middle name.

After last year, a lot of that changed. Harley was still cool, and Peter was still a nerd, but there was this mutual understanding. Harley kept an eye on Flash at school, never really interfering but always waiting with an ice pack. He found out about the Spider thing, too, and kept a good eye on things at home. He took some first aide classes and always stitched up his brother after fights.

So, long story short, Harley and Peter were suddenly closer. And that's part of why the blond teen was freaking out, because his twin brother was missing and he could be dead with a bullet hole in his head somewhere!

Harley paced, uneasiness and fear bubbling in his stomach.

"Harley! Peter! Breakfast!" Pepper called from the kitchen.

"Shit." There was nothing for him to do, really. It wasn't like Harley had a Peter look-a-like or a robot or something. He headed out into the kitchen, sitting at the long dining table and hiding his shaking hands in his lap.

"Good morning!" Tony chirped, snapping the newspaper in his hands. "How did you sleep?"

"Good," Harley said, ignoring the slight tremor in his voice and the sinking, nauseous, terrible feeling in his abdomen.

"Where's your brother? Did you wake him up?" the billionaire asked, looking up from his paper.

"Oh, I ac- actually thought we'd let him sleep in. It is a Saturday after all."

Tony cocked an eyebrow and glanced up at Pepper, who was serving pancakes.

"Harley," the red head drawled. "You are almost as bad a liar as your father."

"Hey!" Tony protested, but it was drowned out by the rest of the team trickling in and grabbing coffee or food from Pepper.

"Natasha, can you go wake up Peter?" Harley panicked at his mother's words.

"No, it's okay! I think he left early today! He went to Ned's!"

Everyone looked over at the nervous 16 year old.

"You just said we should let him sleep in," Tony said, his voice slow and hard. Harley knew he was in trouble.

"Anyone else notice how panicky he is?" Steve said quietly.

"What're you hiding?" Clint asked comically, pointing a fork of syrupy pancakes at the teen, who seemed to shrink under all the scrutiny. He was usually so collected! So cool!

"Hey, guys?" Natasha said, poking her head around the corner. "Peter's not in his room. There were pillows stuffed under the blankets, though."

Every head swiveled to Harley, who withered helplessly.

"I don't know where-"

The elevator dinged open, and Peter strolled in, fully dressed. His hair was tousled, curls loose and frizzy, face red from the cold morning air.

"Good morning," he chirped, unaware of the tension in the room.

"And where were you?" Pepper asked, her tone making it clear to the boy just how much trouble he was in.

"I told you last night, I went to a movie with Ned. I fell asleep at his place, he said he texted you."

Pepper scrunched up her face, pulling her phone out of her pocket and checking it. Her face relaxed.

"Oh, he did! I didn't see this until just now. Sorry, love."

Harley's face was flushed, both embarrassed by his behavior, and angry his brother hadn't checked in with him.

"Your brother covered for you," Tony said with a chuckle. "Pillows in the bed and everything."

Peter let a quick look of apology come over his face for a second before he smiled again. "That's because he's the best brother ever."

The teen plopped himself down at the table and leaned over to Harley, dropping his voice to the point that only Harley could hear.

"I passed out at Ned's, he had to pull a bullet out."

Harley bit down on his tongue to keep a gasp in his throat. "Shot?"

The whispered yell carried slightly and Peter smacked the other teen's arm.

"I'll let you stitch it up later, I have it packed with gauze right now."

Harley nodded, then turned back to the food on the table. It was hard to sit there, pretending that his brother wasn't bleeding out. Peter laughed at something Uncle Bruce said, making Harley wince. How was he so cool about being shot? How was he laughing with the pain of a gun shot wound tearing through his body?

Everyone around the table fell into a comfortable silence, each part of the family focused on their food and coffee. Every now and then, someone would ask for another to pass the salt or pepper or more juice.

Drip. Drop.

The sound of something dripping made everyone look up, while Peter looked and Harley, and Harley looked down.

There, under Peter's chair, were a couple drops of blood. A third one quickly joined the two on the floor, and a fourth, a fifth, a whole steady stream.

Harley put his hand to Peter's shoulder, feeling the soaked gauze and blood through the shirt. A thin rivulet of blood ran down the teen's back, leaving a trail through the shirt.

"Holy-" Bucky jumped up from his seat next to Peter and pulled the teen's chair back, swatting Harley's hand away. "Peter!"

The entire family was up in a second, rushing to help in any way they could.

"Harley," Peter whispered, finding his brother's face.

Pepper and Tony pulled off Peter's shirt, their son just letting it happen. He knew that he couldn't fight things now.

"Peter, you've been shot! How did this happen?" Natasha was pressing a hand over the wound, noting the tight, neat gauze. The gauze that had to have been done by someone else.

"Basketball," Peter said, never taking his eyes off his brother's face. "It happened during a basketball game."

The entire family looked at one another, confusion clouding their faces. Harley took the opportunity to dash down to his and Peter's shared bathroom to grab his first aide kit. Hurrying back, he gently pushed Natasha out of the way and cracked open his box of tools. He unwrapped the wound, letting blood flow freely.

"Deep breath," the blond said to his brother, and Peter took a lungful of air. Needle pierced skin, while protests and shouts of fear from the entire family drowned out Harley's thoughts. No one noticed that Peter hadn't even flinched.

Harley finished the stitches quickly, Peter playing a game on his phone while the family looked on in fear, awe, and disgust. No one made a move. No one said a thing. It was too strange. Too nightmare-ish. Too terrifying to think Peter had been shot and stitched before, and that Harley had done the stitching.

When Harley was done, he stood up and shut the first aide box, then walked to the sink to wash his hands. Peter shrugged his shoulder a couple times, then took a band aid and gestured to his Aunt to place it over the wound.

Natasha threw the band aid to the ground, tears threatening to spill over her eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" She demanded, Tony and Pepper frozen beside her.

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Harley.

"We'll tell them together," the boy said, smiling at the superhero.

"Mom, Dad," Peter started, then glanced at his Aunt, who was terrifying and very protective. "Aunt Tasha. I'm Spiderman."

And if everyone lost their minds and started yelling after that, it was okay, 'cause Peter had Harley by his side.