Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Cat That Began It All
Peter looked at the small business card in his hand, emblazoned with the name “Nelson, Murdock and Page”.
Might as well.
He walked to the address displayed, eventually finding the sign with the same name. He deliberated on the doorstep for a moment, before taking a deep breath and raising his hand to knock.
The door popped open, causing Peter to leap backwards.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” In the doorway, looking slightly stunned and anxious was a blond, wavy haired man.
“Oh no, don’t worry,” Peter quickly interrupted, “I’m, um, here to see…” He glanced down at the card in his hand, “Mr Murdock?”
The blond-haired man frowned a little. “He’s not in actually, I might be able to help?” He held out his hand, “Foggy Nelson,” He announced cheerily.
Peter shook his hand but shook his head. “No, sorry, I really need to see Ma- Mr Murdock. Can I wait inside for him to come back?”
Foggy looked a little surprised, but let him in.
Foggy needed a coffee. It had been a stupidly long day already, and it was only 11. In the morning.
Coffee was what was required.
Karen was going through paperwork, and Matt had sent in a text saying that he was going to be running a little late. Foggy tried not to think about what that might mean.
When he opened the door, he had not expected to see a kid wearing a bright red hoodie and a shirt with a chemistry pun leaping away from the door.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” He apologised quickly, but the kid interrupted him.
“Oh no, don’t worry,” The kid said quickly, smiling cheerily. “I’m here to see,” He began, before quickly pulling out one of the new Nelson, Murdock and Page business cards, “Mr Murdock?”
What?
“He’s not in actually,” Foggy said, recovering quickly, trying to conceal his confusion, “I might be able to help?” He held out his hand to the kid. “Foggy Nelson.”
The kid shook it. “Peter Parker.”
“Good to meet you Peter. Do you want to come in?”
Peter smiled cheerily, “Thanks!”
Foggy led him up to the office waiting room. It wasn’t much. In reality, it was only a room with a couple chairs in, but they had big plans to make it nice, but no money. Yet. One day, they would live the dream, with comfy chairs in a waiting room, probably with one of those little plants, maybe a fish tank as well-
There was a point to this.
Peter sat in one of the chairs, and looked around him interestedly.
Karen was still going through various documents, occasionally glancing over at Peter.
“So,” Foggy began, “What can I help you with?”
Peter looked up, slightly surprised. “Um, not much really right now, sorry.” He looked apologetic, “Do you happen to know when Mr Murdock will be in?”
“He should be in soon. But-”
The door opened, revealing Matt, holding a cane and wearing his typical suit and red tinted glasses.
“Mr Murdock!” Peter leaped up, looking cheery.
Matt looked slightly confused. “Peter?” He asked, frowning slightly.
“Yeah!”
Matt still had a hand on the doorframe, looking as if he half wanted to run. “What are you doing here?”
Peter shuffled his feet. “I... kinda need your help.”
Matt frowned. “Lawyer related help?” He asked, sounding oddly hopeful.
What was going on?
Peter fiddled with the business card in his hands. “Not...quite. Um. Other...kind of help. You know,” His voice trailed off a little, and he lifted his hands to his head, curling the fingers slightly. As if...to resemble devil horns.
No way.
No way.
Matt groaned slightly and sat down in the unoccupied chair. “Are you trying to be subtle?”
Peter lowered his hands slightly sheepishly as Matt continued.
“And you don’t have to worry, they already know.” Matt gestured at Karen and Foggy.
This couldn’t mean what he thought it did.
“Matt…” Karen began slowly.
Peter brightened considerably. “Oh great! That makes this easier.”
“Makes what easier?” Karen asked, a certain edge creeping into her voice. An edge that could make any statement appear as the most dangerous of threats.
Matt rubbed the back of his neck. Peter was looking between them, looking as if he suddenly regretted everything that had led him to this precise moment.
“Talking...about...what I’m...talking about. Easier. It makes...that easier.”
“Peter,” Matt sighed, “You can say whatever you’re trying to say. They know about Daredevil.”
“I think,” Karen began again, the dangerous edge still notable in her tone, “The question is not whether Foggy or I know, but why does this kid know?”
“Hey!” Peter looked a little insulted, “I’m not a kid!”
“You are a kid,” Matt corrected, ignoring Peter’s look of betrayal, and turning back to Karen. He opened his mouth clearly about to say something, then closed it again. “I find myself unable to explain this situation.”
“We aren’t in court Matt!” Foggy interjected, but Matt interrupted him.
“I think, Peter, would you mind just explaining what you needed my help for? And I will answer questions later.” The last comment was directed at Karen and Foggy. Karen crossed her arms, clearly waiting for her opportunity to strike. Foggy gave a quick nod.
“I just nodded.” Matt didn’t need him to narrate, and he knew that, but it had become such a habit to narrate things around him, that sometimes it just happened, and Matt never seemed to mind.
Matt turned back to Peter, who was looking decidedly awkward. “So, what do you need help with?”
“I need help taking down a mob. I think.”
There was a pause.
“Are you kidding me?” Foggy burst out.
Karen uncrossed her arms and stared at Peter. Matt’s eyebrows raised, a clear sign of his utter shock.
Peter hastened to continue, seeing the reaction. “Uh, well, I don’t know, it might not be a mob, more...a gathering! Of criminal kinda people. I don’t know what they’re doing, not really, but it’s not great, like, organised criminals in Queens!”
“Organised crime.” Matt repeated, blankly.
“Yeah! Kinda.”
“How about you just tell us what’s happened.”
Peter took a deep breath. “That’s probably a good idea. So, I was just sitting on this block of flats-”
“On the flats?” Foggy interrupted.
Peter looked startled. “Uh, yeah-”
Matt waved a hand, “Just let the kid talk, or this will take a while.”
“Hey!” Peter looked insulted again. Matt gestured for him to continue. Peter shot him a quick glare, which looked about as threatening as a puppy, before continuing. “So, I was on the flats, when I heard this old lady, and she sounded like she was in trouble…”
~*~
Peter swung his legs of the side of the building, fiddling with a small piece of web, watching a couple birds fighting one another over scraps. The larger brown one seemed to be winning, although the smaller seemed to be putting up a surprising fight. Just as it seemed that the smaller bird had won however, after about a minute of struggle, an even smaller bird flapped up unnoticed, stealing the small chunk of bread away. The larger bird looked almost indignant and flapped away. Peter grinned slightly under the mask.
That was when he heard a small cry. Peter jumped up, causing the remaining bird to startle and fly away in a flurry of feathers, as Peter sent out a web, and leaped off the high-rise, swinging down to where he’d heard the sound.
~*~
“Wait what?”
Peter stopped talking, looking over at Foggy, who seemed slightly stunned.
“What do you mean you ‘Swung’?”
Peter looked deeply uncomfortable.
“Uh. I... I mean I walked.”
“You meant to say ‘walked’ and accidently said ‘swung’?”
“Yes.” Peter nodded, as if to reinforce how much he was definitely not lying, in any way. It didn’t work.
“That’s not a common mistake.”
Peter shifted slightly. “I guess not? But, hey, I should probably carry on with what I was saying!”
Foggy gave up.
~*~
Not very far away, an old lady, wearing a brightly coloured top, and paint splattered jeans stood by a tree, looking up into the branches.
Peter gave a cough, causing her to turn around. She immediately looked incredibly relieved and began speaking at once.
“Oh, thank goodness, you see, I wasn’t sure what to do, I saw him up there and, well…”
She pointed into the branches. Peter followed her gaze and looked up as well. Up in the branches was a rather scrawny ginger tabby cat. Peter met its eyes for a moment, and as if recognising someone with the potential to help them, the cat let out a plaintive mew. Peter’s heart melted, and he quickly climbed the tree, gently plucked the cat from the branch, before sliding back down to the ground.
“Here you are,” Peter grinned, holding the cat out to the old lady. She didn’t move to take it and gave a small laugh.
“Oh, no, it’s not my cat!”
Peter blinked. “Then...whose cat is it?”
The old lady smiled and turned to walk away. “I have no idea, thanks so much though, I was really worried when I saw it!”
“No... problem.”
The old lady strolled away cheerfully. Peter looked down at the cat.
“What do I do with you?”
The cat mewed.
~*~
Matt held up a hand.
“As glad as I am that you helped a cat, I’m not sure what this has to do with the possible mob?”
“I’m getting to that!”
Matt looked at him hard. He had worked with Peter a few times, after he had found Peter fighting a bunch of people Matt had been attempting to find for a while, and they had ended up fighting together. Peter had been flabbergasted when he realised he was working with Daredevil, and Matt had been horrified that a child had been fighting at all.
After Matt had repeatedly failed to persuade Peter to give up on being Spiderman, he’d mostly given up trying, and instead had begun to help teach him how to be better at...spiderman-ing?
They’d struck up an odd sort of friendship, and had eventually given each other their real names, and Matt had given Peter his business card as a method of finding him if he was in serious trouble.
This had not been what he’d expected from that decision.
Matt sighed and rubbed his face. “Fine. Continue.”
“Alright! Side note, if I can’t find the owner, do any of you want a cat?”
Peter was met with blank stares.
Karen shrugged. “I could take a cat?”
Peter smiled widely. “Great! Thanks!”
~*~
Peter had no idea what to do with a cat. He couldn’t keep it. It didn’t seem particularly grateful for his rescue and had begun to fight him somewhat. He had eventually gone home and locked the cat in his bedroom. Hopefully Aunt May wouldn’t go in for any reason.
He’d gone into school the next day and had attempted to gauge what he could do with the cat.
“You’ve stolen a cat?” Ned whisper-exclaimed in his ear.
“No!” Peter hissed. The teacher had her back to them, giving them a moment to talk. Then he considered what Ned had said. “Well, not intentionally. Oh my God, I think I have actually stolen a cat.”
“Dude.”
“Is that a crime?” Peter felt vaguely panicked.
Ned shook his head slowly. “Dude. You stole someone’s cat.”
“I know! What do I do? How do I find a cat owner?”
“There isn’t a special...cat translator in the suit is there?” Ned asked hopefully.
Peter frowned. “No? I mean, no, definitely not. Mr Stark would not have given me a cat translator. Right?”
Ned shrugged.
At lunch, Peter was still discussing the cat with Ned. They hadn’t managed to reach a solution yet.
“Why are you obsessing over a cat?” MJ asked, not looking up from her book.
“Um.” Peter began.
“Peter stole a cat.” Ned blurted out.
MJ looked up, looking slightly surprised. “You stole a cat?”
“NO!” Peter yelped, causing a few people to look over curiously. “I mean,” He continued, trying to make his voice more normal, “No, I mean, I didn’t mean to but I’m starting to realise that I may have stolen a cat. I just helped get it down from a tree, but now I can’t find its owner, so I’m stuck with a cat, and I have no idea what to do with it. Do you want a cat?”
MJ blinked. “No. I don’t want a stolen cat-”
“I didn’t steal it!”
“Whatever. I’m assuming it didn’t have a collar?”
Peter sat back in his chair. He’d have noticed a collar. Right? Now he was questioning himself. Surely, he’d have noticed a collar.
“Yep, no collar, no collar anywhere to be seen.” Peter nodded to accentuate his point.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You didn’t check.”
“MJ, I think I would’ve seen if it had a collar.”
MJ sighed. “Fine, let’s assume it doesn’t have a collar. Why do you think it’s someone’s cat? Maybe it’s just a stray?”
“Nah,” Peter shook his head, “Nah, it was all clean, if maybe a little underfed.”
“Recently a stray?” Ned chipped in.
MJ considered this. “Maybe. But if it was someone’s cat, maybe you should check the microchip?”
“MICROCHIP!” Peter exclaimed. A couple people shot Peter an odd look. He gave a weak apologetic smile, until they turned away. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
“Or, you could do what any sane person would do, and take it to a shelter?”
“What, no, those places are horrible!”
MJ stared at him. “Where is the cat now”
“My room.”
“I’ll bet a shelter is nicer than your room.”
“How dare you,” Peter gasped, mock offended.
MJ rolled her eyes and returned to her book.
When Peter arrived home, he called out for Aunt May. He had no response, and so moved to his bedroom door, and opened it. Immediately, like a ginger lightning bolt, the cat flashed past. Peter managed to grab it by the scruff of its neck before it made its escape.
“Dude!” Peter said, slightly accusatorily. “I saved you!”
The cat glared at him. Peter felt around the cat’s neck, just to check. No collar. Relief.
And now. To attempt to take the cat to the vets to check for its microchip. Please have a microchip, please have a microchip…
The cat did have a microchip, and with it, an address, not very far from where Peter had originally found the cat.
~*~
“Wait,” Karen interrupted, “If you found the cat owner, why did you ask me to take it?”
So far, Karen had remained mostly quiet. She had no idea how this story about a cat was related to a mob or Daredevil, and had hoped that by keeping quiet he would get to the point quicker. So far, it wasn’t seeming likely.
Peter hesitated for a moment. “I’ll get to that in a bit.”
“Do you still have the cat? Oh my, is it still in your room?”
Peter shifted slightly. “No?”
“Peter,” Matt said warningly, “You’re lying.”
“Dammit.” Peter muttered before continuing at a normal volume, “Ok. Yeah, it’s actually currently in my room.”
“And your Aunt is alright with that?”
“Yes.”
“Peter…”
“Alright!” Peter threw his hands up in surrender, “Alright, she doesn’t know.”
Karen sighed. “Carry on Peter.”
“Ok. Where was I?”
“You had just found the owner of the random cat.”
“Oh yeah!”
~*~
Peter knocked on the door in his Spiderman suit, holding the scrabbling cat under his arm. He’d come to the conclusion that the added protection from the suit wouldn’t hurt, what with the cat turning out to be an evil demon wrapped in ginger fur, with needle sharp claws. His healing had certainly helped, but he saw no reason to further risk being mauled by the cat.
“You need a name,” He considered, as he waited for a response from the door. The cat mewed at him. He considered the merits of various names for a while as he waited. He tapped his foot a little. He gave a harder knock. He stopped the cat clawing his mask off. He pondered more evil names.
Eventually, he gave up, and walked to the house next door.
“Excuse me,” He said politely as the cat attempted to evade him, once the cat owner’s neighbour came to the door, “Do you know this cat?” The man who had opened the door had a startling resemblance to a frog somehow. It was very distracting.
“Oh that!” The man said, looking at the cat slightly warily. His voice looked nothing like what his appearance would suggest, it was nice, warm and friendly. “Yeah, that’s Linda’s cat, Morris I believe?”
“Do you know where, um, Linda is?”
“Um, I’m sorry, I have to ask, are you Spiderman?” The man said, smiling slightly.
“Yeah.” Peter felt a little offended. He was literally wearing the suit. Why would someone who wasn’t Spiderman wear Spiderman’s suit?
“Ok…and why do you have Linda’s cat?”
“It was up a tree, and I’ve been trying to find its owner.”
“Are there...not more pressing crimes?”
Peter sighed. “Probably. But I didn’t know what to do with...Morris, so I figured I’d find his owner.”
“Alright,” The man shrugged. “Fair enough.”
There was a slightly awkward pause as Morris mewed angrily at Peter, something he hadn’t been aware of that cats did, and attempted another escape.
“So,” Peter said into the silence, broken only by Morris’s mews of anger, “Is Linda home soon?”
The man shrugged. “Probably not, she’s not been home in a while actually.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I mean, I don’t exactly keep track, but I haven't seen her leaving for work in the mornings, and her lights are never on. Her car’s in, but I haven’t seen her since, I don’t know, Tuesday?”
“She’s not been home for 3 days?”
“I guess?”
Peter frowned. This suddenly seemed more serious than just finding an owner for the cat.
Peter took the cat back home before going out on patrol. He couldn’t stop thinking about Linda, and what might have happened to her.
He’d asked Karen-
~*~
“You asked who?” Foggy demanded.
Peter stared at him. “I asked...Karen?”
“Like...Karen Karen?”
“Who’s Karen Karen?”
Matt stood up.
“Peter, meet Karen Page,” He said, gesturing at Karen, “Karen, meet Peter Parker.”
“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, “Oh, no, not you Karen, different Karen, I asked a different Karen.”
“Oh. Ok.” Foggy said, sitting back down.
“So, like I was saying, I dropped the cat back home before...going for a walk-”
“You really like walks, you’ve gone on a couple already in this story,” Karen pointed out, raising her eyebrow.
“Um, yeah. Yeah, I just really like walks.”
“Clearly.”
“So, I went on a walk-”
“Pete,” Matt interrupted again, “How about we speed this up a bit?”
“Sorry Mr Murdock.”
“Call me Matt.”
“Sorry Matt. So, ok, so after a tonne of work, which I did while walking around, I found out that mystery Linda was in debt to some criminal people, so I went to go track them-”
“WHY would you do that?” Foggy exclaimed.
“Why would I do what,” Peter asked, looking baffled.
“What made you decide to go track down known criminals, who had quite possibly made some woman disappear?”
“Um.”
“Oh no.” Foggy rounded on Matt, “Don’t tell me you encouraged this kid to go do vigilante justice?”
“He didn’t honestly,” Peter said hastily, “And besides, who says I’m a vigilante?”
“Are you a vigilante?”
Peter bit his lip and glanced at Matt.
“Pete, you can trust these people,” Matt said quietly.
Peter looked up, at them and took a deep breath. “Ok, I might go out and help people. But it’s usually just stuff like getting cats down from trees, and stuff! Matt’s already told me that I am not allowed to get involved in serious stuff.”
Foggy exchanged a look with Karen.
“How old are you Peter?” Karen demanded.
“Old enough,” Peter defended.
“You look twelve.”
“I’m sixteen!”
“That is not old enough.” Karen turned to Matt. “I can’t believe you knew about this and didn’t do anything.”
Matt looked stunned. “I tried!”
“Hey!”
“I really tried,” Matt carried on, ignoring Peter, “But seriously, what am I meant to do? Tie him up?”
“Ok, wow,” Peter interrupted, “Look, I do this, I help people, and it’s fine! Seriously! And anyway, I’ve come here now to ask for Matt’s help with something, so clearly, I’m responsible, seriously, I have had this talk so much.”
Matt sighed again. “Alright, let's skip ahead to the part where you need help. So, Linda the cat lady has been discovered, as have a group of criminals. Go.”
~*~
The old warehouse was in darkness. The moon was concealed by clouds, but Karen had helpfully supplied night vision, so Peter was able to clearly see his surroundings.
“Alright,” He murmured, “So, is Linda in the building?”
“My sensors are impeded by something, but it seems likely. The men who she owed money to are inside.” Karen replied.
“Great. Optimum entry point, Karen?”
The small drone detached, and quickly scanned the building. “Through the eastern window.”
“Thanks, Karen!”
He crawled to the window, and carefully raised it up, before sliding inside, and moved to the ceiling to watch events. A small group of very stereotypical-looking Bad Guys were grouped together. Peter listened intently to their conversation, hoping to hear something worthwhile, but unfortunately, they were instead playing a card game.
Peter listened for a while from the ceiling, watching them for anything suspicious. Or vaguely criminal.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe these people were nothing to do with this at all, and just wanted to play their cards. In an abandoned warehouse. But maybe that was just how they rolled.
He was just considering whether he should leave, when the door opened on the ground, and a new group of people walked in. The card players put down their cards.
“How’s it been?” One of the new people addressed the card players.
One of the card players, who had a rather large beard, and a large brown coat smiled grimly.
“Oh, it’s been fine, almost boring really. Luckily Mick brought some cards.”
Apparently-Mick waved at the new people and began packing up the cards strewn over the table. He had a mop of scruffy brown hair, and wore a plain black t-shirt and black trousers, and had an electric green jacket over the back of his chair.
Ok then.
The new people, who really needed a name, maybe Group B? Why not. The people of group B did not look impressed by Mick’s cards.
“I wasn’t talking about cards.” The man in front said dangerously.
The large bearded card player shrugged unconcernedly. “Like I said, not a peep from anyone.” He gestured with his thumb at the back somewhere.
Peter frowned.
“Karen,” He murmured quietly, not wanting to be heard, “What’s back there?”
“I’ve picked up several heat signatures. It would appear that this is where the captives are kept.”
“Why are they taking captives?”
“I don’t know the answer to that.”
“Thanks anyway Karen.”
He turned back to the group of people.
Who were all staring at him.
Mick’s mouth was hanging open.
The bearded man looked stunned.
Peter froze.
Oh damn.