Chapter Text
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐
When Peter woke in the early morning surrounded by the comfort of his bed sheets and his pyjamas that had mysteriously appeared on him last night, they were crumpled at his waist and halfway up his leg. The blinding sun was peaking through the windows.
He stretched his limbs out, a groan leaving his mouth, then he burrowed back into the covers.
There was the faint sound of voices outside his room. He knew it was probably Mr Stark arguing with a member of staff over some brand deal that had fallen through, but something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to check; that something was wrong.
Peter’s feet touched the cold floor, sending shivers up his body. The floors creaked as he took another step. He felt uneasy; it felt like a scene from an apocalypse movie, but the character had slept through the start of the outbreak and was about to open his door to flesh-eating zombies.
But instead of zombies, he was met with the sight of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner arguing at the end of the hall.
“I’ve heard enough, Bruce.” Tony said, his face twisted in anger. They looked like they had been going back and forth for a while. Peter had missed half the conversation, only being woken up when their voices raised in anger.
“Listen, I just needed to show you this—people could be in serious danger.“ Bruce was holding a black tablet, gesturing to the screen, though Peter was too far away to make out what was on it.
“I don’t care, Bruce. The police are handling this. Just stay away from the kid.” He clenched his jaw. “I told all of you to stay away from him.”
Peter flinched.
The kid as in him?
What were the police handling?
Peter didn’t understand why Mr Stark would want Dr Banner or anyone else to stay away from him. Had he done something wrong? He knew he was a troubled kid, always being out past curfew and hiding injuries. Mr Stark always said Peter gave him more grey hairs by the day.
He also didn’t think there were any new dangerous people out on the streets, just the odd robber.
Peter slowly shut his door so no one would hear and snuck back into his bed. He pulled the covers over himself, taking slow breaths.
Peter’s brain was running over all reasons why this was happening. Was he going to get kicked out of the tower? Was Mr Stark going to take away his suit? Why wouldn’t Mr Stark want him interacting with staff and Avengers? He felt sick with anxiety. All he wanted to do was cry.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
He squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.
The door slowly opened, Mr Stark moving into the room.
“Hey, kid. It’s time to get up,” he whispered. The bed dipped as he sat on it, caressing Peter’s cheek.
“mm what time is it?” Peter said, using his best acting skills that he learned in drama class (when he wasn’t skipping to patrol).
“It’s nine, kiddo. I called you in sick for school. I wanted some time for just us,” he smiled. Peter’s face lit up. He loved having days off to spend time with his mentor.
“Yeah, but I gotta patrol first,” Peter said.
“Of course, wouldn’t want to mess up your routine,” he patted Peter’s hair.
“Where’s Dr Banner?” he asked, remembering the conversation from the hall. Peter tried to stop his hands from shaking.
He didn’t know if it was a good idea to ask or if Mr Stark would get angry, especially if he didn’t want Peter interacting with him.
Tony sighed. “He’s busy right now.”
“He is?” Peter frowned.
Tony’s eyes scanned the room, any excuse not to look at Peter. Peter left a lump in his throat at the sight. What had he done for Mr Stark to isolate him like this?
“How about you start getting ready? Breakfast is served soon.” He slapped his knees as he stood up and walked out the door.
Peter was left in silence to get his clothes on and ready for the day.
-
As he walked down the cold hallway to the kitchen where his breakfast was made, he couldn’t stop thinking about Dr Banner.
There was something about him that was just so… familiar.
His mannerisms reminded Peter of himself:
His fidgeting, his awkwardness.
Peter just couldn’t figure out why.
Mr Stark was sitting on the breakfast bar, already halfway through his meal.
“Hey, Pete,” he smiled, taking a sip of his water.
“Hey,” Peter mumbled, sliding down to sit.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. I got held up all day,” Tony sighed.
“It’s fine. I had fun with Dr Banner,” Peter said with a goofy smile
tony kept his eyes locked on his food. “Right… he told me about that.”
Peter decided to take his chances. “I’d like to work with him again… if that’s okay.”
Tony grumbled and rubbed his stubble. “I dunno, kid, he’s a busy man.”
“I know that!” Peter defended. “I just hoped we could all work together in the lab.” He twisted his fingers together under the table
tony’s phone started ringing then, such perfect timing
they ate as Tony talked on his call, Peter frowning the whole time.
Finally, when they had finished their breakfast, Tony went to make some business calls, and Peter got ready to go out for his morning patrol.
The patrol was longer this morning as Peter didn’t have school. He felt the breeze of the cold New York air and the light rain hitting his goggles (he really had to get some type of window wipers for them).
As he swung through the building, his senses picked up a woman’s screams and cries. He immediately rushed to the scene
robbing someone in broad daylight, what a noob
as the screaming became louder, he found them in the back of an alley. Of course,
the woman had long, silky black hair, tears streaming down her cheeks. Around her neck was a sunflower lanyard with the words “I am autistic” on the card.
If that didn’t instantly make Peter more protective, knowing how scary and traumatic the situation can be.
Peter remembered before the bite walking home from Ned’s house late one night. A gang had attacked him and robbed him of his money. It ended with him being severely traumatised and in a shut-down for days afterwards. Peter hadn’t walked by himself for a whole year after that.
The woman’s attacker was wearing all black, typical for a robber. He had his hands wrapped around the woman’s arm, refusing to let go. He had obviously got a few punches in as the woman’s cheek was bleeding, but something about his face stuck out to Peter.
It was blank, not one twitch of an eyebrow or blink of an eye.
The attacker let go of the woman for a second, and that gave Peter an opening to swoop between them and take him down.
Peter ran backwards and shot a web onto the building above them.
He ran as fast as he could and swung down. He was about to hit the man in the chest with his feet, sending him flying. Before Peter could even process the hit on the man, he felt pain shooting up his legs. It was like he had hit concrete.
It sent Peter hurdling forward into the air. He landed on his stomach on the ground, covering his suit in mud.
He tried to push himself back up off the ground, but his hand slipped on the wet puddle under him. He coughed and tried again. He immediately got back into fight mode, ready to protect this woman.
The attacker’s attention was now on Peter, letting the woman make a break for it down the street. Peter was thankful now he could fight this guy without the fear of injuring bystanders.
But Peter was caught off guard by how fast the man moved.
He grabbed Peter by his shoulders off the ground and punched him, sending him flying back onto the concrete.
The attacker went for another punch, but Peter was ready this time, grabbing his hand and webbing it to the wall next to them. Peter went in for the punch.
Suddenly the man’s other hand unnaturally shot up. There was no way someone that wasn’t enhanced could predict that.
He caught Peter’s hand mid-hit.
Suddenly there was a sickening crunch.
Peter’s vision blurred from the pain. He gasped.
The guy had just broken his hand?!?
There was no way this guy was just a normal robber.
In Peter’s panic, he failed to realise the man had pulled out a syringe of green liquid and was putting it into Peter’s arm.
Peter immediately jerked his arm away, the syringe still in his skin, but the man hadn’t been fast enough to inject him with the liquid.
Peter threw a hit at the guy’s face, enough to leave a mark, but the guy didn’t even seem fazed.
His face suddenly started to spasm where Peter hit him.
Wires and iron plates peeked through his skin.
His body started seizing
and melted into the ground.
Peter was left speechless.
The man wasn’t real?
Was he a type of robot?
Peter had to get out of here and tell Mr Stark.
If the person behind this had multiple others like this god knows what could happen…
Peter sat down and pulled the syringe out of his arm. He used a spare tissue he found at the very bottom of the pockets of his suit and wrapped it safely.
The rain started coming down harder, battering into Peter. Peter sighed against the wall. What a disastrous patrol.
Peter swung home, covered in mud and soaking wet.
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐