Chapter Text
“When I dance with her… I’m putting my hands on her hips. I got this.”
Peter had this. He really did. Whilst having the suit taken away hadn’t been the happiest moment of his life, it had given him a chance to step back from Spider-Man. Looking at it in perspective, it now meant that he could at least enjoy some of his life as a teenager in high school, without having to worry about stopping criminals and supervillains. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten about the Vulture. However, he was sure that all of that could wait one night, whilst he took Liz to Homecoming.
Liz. He was still reeling from the fact that she’d agreed to go to Homecoming with him. As he’d stood in that hallway, fiddling with the edge of the clunky hall pass, he’d been sure that she would say no. Either, that she already had someone to go with. Or, that she didn’t want to go with the dork who’d appeared to flake out of Academic Decathlon and had failed to bring Spider-Man to her party.
It almost seemed too good to be true.
“Love you, May.” He waved to his Aunt as he stepped out of the car, her advice concerning Liz still at the forefront of his mind.
“Bye.”
He took a breath, before stepping away from the car. He stared up at the vast and looming building of Liz’s house, pushing down a strange sense of foreboding building in his chest. It was nothing. It was likely because, the last time he’d come to this house, he’d had to leave the party early to go and stop an illegal weapons deal… and then had been plunged into a lake. He shuddered at the thought of it.
Peter stopped once he reached the front door. He took one last glance at the pink corsage clasped in his hands, before he reached up, and rung the doorbell. Stepping backwards, perhaps a little awkwardly, he readied himself for the night to come. Meet Liz. Make a good first impression on her parents. Give Liz the corsage. Tell her she looks nice. But not too much; don’t be creepy.
“You must be Peter.”
It was as if the world had come to a standstill. Standing at the door was none other than the Vulture. More accurately, it was Adrian Toomes, wearing a plaid blue shirt and a friendly smile. His own smile faded, everything he’d just been thinking about disappearing from his mind. This was the Vulture. Without his suit. He was vulnerable. He was going to get more people hurt. Peter had to stop him.
Except, he couldn’t manage to get his feet to move from where they were planted at Toomes’ doorstep. All he managed to croak out was a stuttering,
“Y-yeah.”
His eyes unable to leave the man’s face. He couldn’t do this. This was Liz’s dad. In Liz’s home.
“I’m Liz’s dad.” The man affirmed, as if fate were mocking Peter. “Put her there.” As he reached out his hand, Peter firmly took it. With his mind in other places, he didn’t remember to regulate his strength and found himself giving Toomes a very hearty handshake.
“Hell of a grip.” The man barked out a laugh. “Come on in here. Come on.” Still holding Peter’s hand, Toomes dragged him inside. When he finally let go of his hand, Peter made sure to hold the corsage with both hands this time.
It took him a while to move away from the door, his mind racing at a hundred miles a second. Toomes. The Vulture. Liz. Toomes. The Vulture—
He managed to move a few paces forwards, stepping into the kitchen. The bright blue light danced off his cheeks, illuminating his nervous features in an almost surreal glow. Toomes was alone now. Liz wasn’t here yet. Could he--?
“Hi, Peter.” A female voice came out of nowhere, startling him out of his thoughts. He spun on his heel and was met with who he assumed was Liz’s mother. “You look very handsome.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes never left the couple as they stood side by side. Watching them converse, gave a strong feeling of domesticity. Of normality. Like the father in the picture wasn’t a supervillain.
“I’m gonna go get Liz.” She said, and then she was gone. Peter was left alone with Toomes once more.
The man stood across from him, a kitchen counter and a few paces being the only distance between them. Toomes began to polish knives, fingers trailing slowly over the blades.
He has a weapon—I have a reason—now—
“You alright, Pete?”
He blinked, catching sight of his reflection, distorted in a metal bar across the far wall. He could see the sweat beading on his forehead, and his expression that made it look as if he were about to be shot.
“Yeah.”
“Because you look… pale.” The man gestured to his own face with the knife. Peter followed the glint of the blade. “You want something to drink? Like… a bourbon. Or a scotch. Something like that?”
He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. “I’m not… old enough to drink.” He mumbled.
Toomes grinned. “That’s the right answer.” He replied with a gesture of his knife.
Peter blinked. His spider senses were screaming, louder than they’d ever screamed before. He had to get out. Or get Toomes out. And yet, all he could do was stand and stare at the man before him.
Toomes had a sudden look of recognition in his eyes. Did he recognise him? Did he—
“Wow.”
Peter turned abruptly, and spotted Liz walking towards him. Somewhere in a back corner of his mind, he felt happy to see her. Glancing over her beautiful red dress, he was vaguely reminded of what night it was. What night it could have been.
“Wow, wow, wow. Do you look beautiful.”
Liz looked slightly embarrassed. “Please don’t embarrass me, Dad.”
“Doesn’t she, Pete?”
Peter was reminded again of the situation at hand. Supervillain.
“Yeah.” He glanced to the side briefly as Liz came to stand next to him. “You look really good.”
“Once again, that’s the right answer.” Toomes gave a wave of the knife. Peter really wished that he’d put it down.
After a short stretch of silence, he heard Liz’s voice in his ear. “Is that a corsage?” Without looking, he handed it abruptly to her.
“Thanks.”
Toomes continued to polish the knives. If he had to stand there any longer, Peter was starting to think that he might throw up or pass out. Maybe both, if Toomes kept staring at him like that.
The man suddenly dropped the knife onto the counter with a clatter, as if suddenly remembering something.
“Well, hey—I’m your chauffeur. So, uh, let’s get going. Let’s get this show on the road—”
“No, no no, no,” his wife interrupted, walking around the other side of the counter to pick up what looked like a disposable camera, “we have to take some pictures, babe.” Somehow, Peter’s eyes got wider. “All right. Oh, right here.” She motioned for them to stop. “Perfect.
“Mom.” Liz complained, joking. Peter would have killed for this to be a normal night. His first girlfriend, the first time he meets her parents—he wished he could live in the moment, laugh exaggeratedly at the dad’s jokes, and appreciate the girl standing next to him.
“Come on you guys. Peter, closer.”
He took a short, hesitant step closer to Liz. In the end, she broached the gap between them herself.
“Smile.”
Peter grimaced, eyes flicking briefly back to Toomes. The light flashed in his eyes. Then, finally, it was over.
“Sir, you don’t have to drive us.” His voice was pleading.
“No, no, it’s not a big deal.” He shrugged. “I’m going out of town. It’s right on my way.” On his way to steal more weapons. Kill more people.
“He’s always coming and going.” So, they didn’t know. Peter wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
“Last time.”
That didn’t sound good.
Suddenly, they were at the door. Peter blinked.
“Come on, Pedro.”
“Bye, Peter, Have fun.”
His eyes hung briefly on Liz’s mother. One last look, before he ruined their lives. No—he was filled with a sudden determination. Even with his mixed feelings, an ugly concoction of fear and adrenaline, he knew what he had to do.
“Yeah, I will.”
------
The car ride to Homecoming was tense. Liz was scrolling through her phone, snapping selfies, wearing the pink corsage. He found it easier to stare out of the window, watching the cars go by and the light pattering of rain against the streets.
“What are you gonna do, Pete?”
The Vu—Toome’s question caused his head to snap up, staring at the man in the driver’s seat. It was so vague that he worried that the Vulture knew every little secret about him.
“What?”
“When you graduate.” He let out a breath. “What do you think you’re gonna do?”
Peter glanced back out of the window. “Oh, um, I don’t know.” He answered awkwardly. He sighed in relief as Liz came to his aid.
“Don’t grill him, dad.”
“Just saying,” Toomes continued, “y’know. All you guys who go to that school—you pretty much have your life planned out, right?”
He looked back to the man, catching his gaze in the rear-view mirror. He gulped. “Yeah, no I’m just, just a sophomore.”
When Liz spoke again, he didn’t feel so thankful. “Peter has an internship with Tony Stark. So, I think he doesn’t have to worry.” He would’ve appreciated the pride in her voice if it didn’t cause Toomes to turn briefly in his seat and look back at him.
“Really?”
“Mh-hmm.”
“Stark?” He looked back to the road. “What do you do?”
Peter glanced down at his lap. Maybe, just maybe, he could save this. Toomes didn’t have enough information yet to see the similarities between him and Spider-Man.
“Actually, I don’t, uh, intern for him anymore.”
“Seriously?”
He glanced fleetingly to Liz. “Yeah, it got, um…” he scrambled for a word. I’m taking the suit back.
I lost the internship.
“…boring.”
“It was boring?” Liz questioned. Peter gave a short nod. Things seemed to be going his way. “But—you got to hang out with Spider-Man.”
Peter shook his head vividly, having a sudden feeling of every bad thing in his short life coming back to bite him.
“Really? Spider-Man? Wow.” Peter had a feeling that Toomes’ enthusiasm was forced. “What’s he like?”
“Yeah, he’s nice. Nice man. Solid dude.”
“Hmm.”
When Liz slid across the seat to show him something on her phone, he felt grateful for the brief reprieve. He wasn’t sure if Toomes was able to concentrate on the road, with the way he kept stealing glances in the rear-view mirror.
“I’ve seen you around, right? I mean… Somewhere. Have we ever…?” The questioned trailed off. Peter opened his mouth to cut in, but Toomes chose that moment to carry on. “Because… even the voice…” he made a gesture.
“He does Academic Decathlon with me.”
However, even Liz’s help was futile, in the end.
“You were at my party, though, for like, two seconds…”
“You disappeared.”
“You disappeared like you always do.”
“Like you did in D.C., too.”
The car stopped at an intersection. Peter had never wanted, more than in that moment, to throw open the door and dive out of the car into open traffic.
“That’s terrible, what happened down there in D.C, though.” A pause. “Were you scared?”
When Peter nodded, the man continued, and the boy immediately noticed the change in his tone.
“I’ll bet you were glad when your old pal Spider-Man showed up in that elevator, huh?”
Peter gulped. He focused on the gentle rumbling of the car beneath him, the scent of Liz’s perfume.
“Yeah, I actually didn’t go up. I saw… I saw it all from the ground.” He looked back to Liz. “Very lucky that he was there that day.”
“Good old Spider-Man.” Toomes commented. The light flickered to green, but the car didn’t move. Peter could feel a building sense of unease.
Luckily, after a reminder from Liz, they got to the school on time. Blue and gold balloons decorated the outside of the buildings, with huddles of teenagers dotted around the area.
“Here we are. End of the line.”
As Liz thanked her dad for driving them there, Peter moved hastily to exit the vehicle. Now that they were stopped, he felt, strangely, more trapped.
“You head in there, gumdrop.” A pause, glancing back to Peter as Liz opens her car door. “I’m gonna give Peter the ‘dad talk’.” A laugh.
And then, suddenly, the door shut. The locks clicked up, and Peter was alone with the Vulture.
Toomes looked back to his prey. He’d acquired a gun from the glove compartment of the car and held it within Peter’s view. The muzzle glinted, specked with a few drops of blood.
“Does she know?”
“Know what?” Peter questioned. He clung onto the last, wavering hope that Toomes might change his mind. Surely, people wouldn’t think that a 15-year-old kid was Spider-Man. That had been his main disguise, aside from the mask.
“So she doesn’t.” Toomes nodded. “Good. Close to the vest, I admire that.” A glance at the gun. “I’ve got a few secrets of my own. Of all the reasons I didn’t want my daughter to date…
“Peter, nothing is more important than family. You saved my daughter’s life. I could never forget a thing like that. So, I’m gonna give you one more chance. You ready?” He looked back to Peter suddenly, staring intently. “You walk through those doors. You forget any of this happened. And don’t you ever, ever interfere with my business again. Because if you do, I’ll kill you… and everybody you love. I’ll kill you dead.” A pause, glancing at Peter, eyes cast downwards. “I’ll do anything to protect my family.”
Peter watched as the man leant forwards and sighed in relief to hear the clunk that indicated the gun had been put back in its drawer. However, when Toomes straightened up, there was something else. Something smaller in his hand…
“You know, boy. I was gonna save your life. But look what you made me do.” Peter blinked. A flurry of movement; there was a sudden piercing pain in his neck. Bringing a hand to the area, he felt something soft and fuzzy. Pulling it away, it looked like a…
“Tranquil’zer… d’rt?”
“Smart. I can see why Liz picked you.” Toomes laughed with a roll of his eyes. “So… this is your phone. Passcode?” Peter heard the shuffling sound of movement as the Vulture took his phone. He grunted, eyes feeling heavy.
“Tell me your passcode, or I will go through with the rest of my promise. Who was it that dropped you off at my house… your Aunt?”
Peter muttered out the code at once, slumping over in his seat, body slack. He would have slid into the footrest, if not for the seatbelt holding him up.
“Good. See, at least you’re obedient. Now… how does this sound; ‘Sorry, Liz, I won’t be able to make it. Something came up.’”
The teen managed to grit out a mumbled curse before his head slumped onto his chest.
The car drove away.