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Peter blinked harshly, swaying in place. His head swiveled around to take note of his location.
He was in Spanish class. In the middle of a Spanish test. A Spanish test that he had not studied for.
‘Um, anyone? A little help here?’
“Pete, you know I’m not supposed to help with these things,” Alex sighed, coming forward a bit. Peter tried to ignore the dizziness that came with her sharing the headspace.
‘I wasn’t the one fronting last night!’ he protested, frantically looking over his answers so far. It looked decent enough, but with Spanish he could never be too sure. ‘Who was fronting before now?’
“Spidey, I think,” Alex answered quickly, “You’re running out of time, Petey Pie, you need to finish up. I’ll help you with the more challenging ones, okay?"
‘Fine, fine.’
Alex went quiet for a moment. He scrawled out an answer.
‘Thanks, Alex. I really appreciate it.’
A warm, tingly sensation spread through his entire body, and he could imagine a smile lighting up Alex’s face. “No problem, honey, that’s what I’m here for.”
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After his Spanish test, the rest of the day went by smoothly. He called up Mr. Stark after school and told him that he’d come by the lab tomorrow, did his homework, ate dinner, waited for May to come back from her shift at the hospital, and-
He woke up on the couch. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was almost three-thirty in the morning. He groaned, leaning back. He made sure that nobody else was buzzing around in the headspace before he got up to make himself a sandwich. His limbs protested the movement, letting him know that Spiderman had been fronting for quite a bit.
While he was layering the ham onto the sandwich, the telltale sound of a key turning the lock told him that May was home.
She stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, and gaped when she saw him puttering about.
“Peter? You told me you went to bed hours ago.” She sputtered, rubbing her eyes. She set her bag down by the door and toed off her shoes.
“That was probably Spiderman. I just woke up five minutes ago,” he explained, a bit snippy because of how tired he felt. He slapped the second piece of bread on top of his sandwich and tore into it.
May frowned. “Spiderman was out?”
He nodded. “Yeah,” he said around the sandwich, swallowing it before he continued. “He takes over at night. He likes, you know, sitting on the roof. Seeing the city, and all that.”
“And you let him do that?”
“‘S not like I have a choice,” he muttered, taking another bite and chewing carefully. “He doesn’t exactly talk to me about these things. He just does what he does, when he wants to do it.”
May leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. “Peter, I don’t wanna sound rude here, but you need to have a conversation with him about this. You’re… I mean, you’re like this. You’re tired and confused, your grades are slipping, this- this can’t go on forever!”
Peter looked down at the floor, brow furrowed in thought. “I’ve- I mean, I’ve never even talked with him, other than the time he started screaming at me to pick up waffles from DrugMart.”
“He what?”
“That’s not important!” he cut in shrilly, “‘Sides, it’s cool. He does his thing, I do mine, we don’t fight. It’s completely, totally fine.”
May scoffed at his words. “Hun, not communicating isn’t succeeding. You two need to be on good terms with each other, otherwise it’s not gonna work. You’re gonna run yourself into the ground!”
Peter pondered her words for a moment before he spun around, storming off. He shoved the last of the sandwich into his mouth and flopped onto his bed.
“Pfft, right, like I need to communicate with that bastard,” he grumbled, sighing deeply into his pillow, “he’s such a jerk. I don’t need to talk to him to know that.”
As he fell asleep, he thought that he felt a wave of sadness pass through him, but he chose to ignore it.
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Peter rubbed his face, groaning as a wave of nausea passed over him. His eyes flickered off to the side, noticing Ned’s figure bending over him.
“Dude, you good?” he asked, brow furrowing in concern. “You looked confused, then you kinda just dropped. Is Mr. Stark making you stay later on patrol?”
Peter frowned. “You know about that?”
“About what?” his voice quieted a bit. “Spiderman? Peter, I’ve known for months now, are you okay?”
“Forget it. I’m-” Peter sucked in a breath, hunching over as he clutched his stomach with one hand. The other reached up to rub his eyes. He still felt dissociated from the switch, even more so than usual, and the room felt like it was spinning. “I’m fine. Can you tell Mr. Harrington I’m not gonna be at Decathlon today?”
Ned’s eyes widened. “You’re skipping?”
Peter groaned, the nausea mostly subsiding as he stood. “Yeah,” he choked out, wobbling on his feet, “not feelin’ too hot. Think I’ll go home after school, lie down a bit, ya know?”
Ned looked concerned, but he nodded. “Okay. Lunch is almost over, d’you wanna go back to class?”
Peter looked around the lunchroom. His cheeks burned as he realized people were staring at him. He swiped the remainder of his lunch off the table, ignoring their whispers as he stalked out of the lunch room. He just wanted one day, one day, where no one fronted without his consent. He just wanted one, perfectly okay, completely normal day at school, no bullying, no alters fronting randomly. Was that too much to ask for?!
“Hey Penis!”
Apparently it was.
“The fuck do you want?” Peter snipped, refusing to turn around to face his tormentor. A slight buzzing in his ears and a wave of rage-fueled protectiveness told him that Iron Man was coming forward. ‘Not now, please not now,’ he begged, hoping Iron Man could hear him.
“Ooh, watch your language, Penis. Wouldn’t want your parents to hear that- oh wait, that’s right,” Flash smirked, “they’re dead.”
Flash snickered. Peter spun around to face him. “Look, I don’t know what stick is up your ass,” Peter gritted out, “but I’m not in the mood today. Just let me go to class.”
“Oh, but we haven’t even started yet,” Flash smirked, crossing his arms over his chest in a futile effort to seem more intimidating. Of course, that did nothing to scare him- Peter had fucking Iron Man in his head, what was there to be afraid of? “I saw your little freak-out at lunch. Did you remember your parents dying? Did poor wittle Neddie stawt cwying?” Flash pouted condescendingly, lips curling into a sneerish smirk.
“Shut up. You don’t get to talk about my friend like that,” Peter growled. Iron Man pressed forward.
Flash ignored him and continued on, “Did you finally realize that your fantasies about interning with Tony Stark are actually lies?”
“The fuck did that punk just say?!”
‘Calm down, please.’
The bully smirked, shoving a finger into Peter’s chest. “I heard you talking about Spiderman in the lunchroom? You lyin’ about that too, Penis?”
Peter’s eyes widened. He blinked harshly, stumbling back a little. He suppressed a whimper as another wave of dissociation hit. ‘Iron Man, I know this is difficult, but please, I have this under control.’
“Not me, Peter, someone else is here.”
Peter’s brow furrowed. He caught a quick glimpse of Flash’s startled face. He quickly straightened back up again, fighting the oncoming nausea and migraine. The room spun.
“Gotta say, wasn’t expecting that, Puny,” Flash regained his composure, or at least he pretended like he did, and stalked forward, another smirk growing across his face. Peter shook his head as the room spun wildly. Flash sounded like he was underwater- something that happened often. It was an odd side effect of dissociation. “What, you get scared when someone threatens to expose your lies?”
“Shuddup,” Peter mumbled, “not a lie.” ‘Iron Man? What’s going on? Who else is there?!’
“Oh, I’m sorry, can you not handle facing the truth?”
“I don’t know! I’m trying to hold them back, but-”
“Everyone’s gonna know about your lies, Penis. Once I find a way to expose them-”
“Shut him up! Shut him up!!” A voice, one that sounded eerily like Peter, screeched.
‘I’m trying!’
“You’re gonna be expelled.”
“Peter, I can’t hold them back much longer! You gotta get somewhere else, I don’t think the outcome is gonna be pretty.”
‘I’m kind of preoccupied at the moment!’ Peter snipped back.
“Everyone’s gonna laugh at how you lied about interning with Tony Stark-”
“Pete!”
“SHUT UP!!”
‘Iron Man! Try a little harder, please!’
“I’m trying the best I can, kiddo!”
“-and how you lied about meeting The Avengers, and Spiderman-”
“I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD I’M GONNA KILL HIM!!”
“Peter!” Iron Man gasped, sounding extremely winded, “You have to leave! Now!”
Flash smirked, grabbing the fabric of Peter’s shirt.
“They’re gonna laugh when you’re expelled, and I’m gonna be laughing with them.”
The dizziness took over. Peter sank to his knees and cried. He closed his eyes, and knew nothing more.
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When Peter woke up, he found himself in the front office.
“Mr. Parker, let me just say, I’m extremely disappointed with your behavior today,” Principal Morita scolded, clasping his hands together on top of his desk.
Peter’s head spun. He closed his eyes and gripped the sides of his chair to steady himself. “I’m sorry, Principal Morita, but it wasn’t Peter’s fault!” May- May? When did May get here?- snapped. Peter turned his head to face her.
“May? Whas- whas goin’ on?” he slurred, the nausea settling in.
“Peter? Is that you?” she turned to him, staring him dead in the eyes. “Keagan explained the situation. You never told me you were being bullied!”
Peter frowned. How did she know about the bullying? “Mis-Mis’er Morita? Wha- what hap’ned?”
“You punched a student, Mr. Parker,” Morita snarled, “the son of two of our highest donors, in fact! Not only that, but you kept punching him over and over, until he was barely recognizable.”
A chill shot through Peter’s body at his words.
“Um, I’m sorry, Mr. Morita, it won’t happen again,” Peter promised, still a little confused and out of it.
“It better not. I’m giving you a three day OSS, and you will attend a week of detention once you get back."
“And what about that other kid, huh? You saw the tapes!” May protested. “He was intentionally riling him up!”
“If I punish Eugene, his parents will refuse to donate,” Morita cut in.
May gaped. “So you’re just letting him off the hook then?!”
Morita’s gaze hardened. “He’s being taken off the Decathlon team for the time being.”
“He’s not even on the team!” Peter protested. “He’s a backup! He doesn’t do anything! That’s-” Peter gulped. What had come over him?! Why was he yelling at the principal?! He was tired- yeah, that was it, he was just a little tired.
“We can’t afford to lose his parents’ donations. They’re the reason the school is able to afford this building in the first place.”
“Peter, please, honey, maybe if you tell him what actually happened-”
“I saw the security tapes, I don’t need your side of it,” Morita snipped.
“I am not telling him about that just so I can get out of an OSS,” Peter cut in. “I’ll take the OSS, please, can you just… let me leave? I haven’t been feeling well all day anyway.”
May looked torn, but she nodded. She stood quickly and swiped a pile of papers off of the principal’s desk. “Alright. Come on Peter, let’s go.”
Peter left with a sick feeling in his stomach, one that had nothing to do with a switch, for once.
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“That was Spiderman, wasn’t it?” May asked as soon as they got into the car.
“I don’t know. Maybe,” Peter muttered. “Iron Man didn’t know who it was.”
“What was it like, before you… switched? Is that the word?”
Peter hummed. “Um, well, Iron Man was trying to push someone back. He was pretty strong, I think. Maybe it was another protector? I dunno, he seemed kinda violent for a protector.”
“Well, I mean, what triggered him to come forward? Maybe you can get some clues from that.”
Peter tried to think of the incident. His memories were clearer now, thankfully- he really didn’t want to deal with suppressed memories right now. “Flash was taunting me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And- and he was sayin’ something, I forget what about. Accusing me of lying, I think.”
“Lying about what?”
Peter hesitated. “You know, the- the Stark internship. Knowing the Avengers. Normal stuff.”
May frowned. “The normal stuff? Hun, you do know the Avengers, and you do have an internship with Tony.”
“Do you really think Flash cares about that?” Peter huffed. “He’s probably just jealous or something. Either that or he really, really just doesn’t like me.”
The two Parkers sat in silence for a moment.
“Do you remember specifically what Flash was talking about when you noticed the alter?”
“Um,” Peter thought about it, “I… I don’t really remem- oh!”
May raised her eyebrows. “You remember?”
“Yeah!” Peter exclaimed, shocked that he remembered the specifics, “Flash mentioned something about Spiderman.”
May’s surprised expression quickly morphed into one that Peter couldn’t read quite as well.
“Oh, so… so it probably was Spiderman then, huh?”
May hummed. “Remember what I said a couple nights ago?”
“About…?”
“About your communication- or rather, lack of communication, with Spiderman?”
Peter pressed his lips together. “Y-yeah?”
“Now would be a good time to start considering what I said.”
Peter sunk back into his seat, turning to stare out the window. Suddenly his cuticles needed a thorough examination.
“Peter, honey, you gotta talk to him about this. For god’s sake, he beat up a kid today! I’m not complaining about that, I hate that kid’s guts, but Pete, you got an OSS and a week of detention!”
“He- um, I think he fronted last night, too,” Peter admitted quietly, “and this morning. I don’t remember anything before lunch.”
“So you’ve fronted for what, half an hour today?” May pointed out.
“It sounds bad when you put it like that!”
“Because it is bad, Peter! This- this can’t go on forever, you know! What are you gonna do when you have a job later on? Are you just gonna let him front whenever he wants? You’re gonna run yourself into the ground!”
Peter’s brow furrowed. He rested his head on his hand and pointedly stared out the window. “I- I don’t know how to talk to him,” he admitted quietly.
“Like you don’t know how to approach him about it, or you just don’t know how to reach him?”
“I don’t know how to reach him,” he clarified. “I’ve heard him twice. Both times he was yelling at me. He doesn’t listen, and he doesn’t make an effort to communicate, either.”
“Doesn’t he live in the city in your head?” May asked.
He scoffed. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to access the inner world yet, or if I even can. I don’t live there, I live here. The rest of them live there.”
“So until you figure out how to get in there-”
“I can’t talk to him,” he finished.
The two fell silent as May approached an intersection, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the wheel.
“Is there any way you can leave a note for him?”
Peter turned to gape at her.
“I mean,” she continued quickly, “if you can’t communicate in the… inner world, was it? If you can’t communicate in there, who’s to say you can’t communicate out here?”
Peter blinked.
“May, I think you might be a fucking genius.”
“Language,” she playfully scolded.
“I- I think that might actually work.”
May smiled.
“Glad I could help. Now, what do you want for dinner?”
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Peter stared at the blank piece of paper in front of him. He’d shoved everything off of his desk the second he got home, eager to try out May’s idea. He grimaced at the thought of having to clean everything up later, but that was a problem for future Peter to think about.
He worried his lip between his teeth, twirling the pen between his fingers in a soothing, rhythmic manner. He thought for a few moments, took a small sip from a glass of water he’d found behind his equipment (it tasted stale- could water even get stale? Who had put it there?), and began scrawling in his messy handwriting:
Hey dude
Hi there
Yo
Hey Spiderman,
It’s ya boi P It’s Peter. Listen bucko I’m sick of Look, I don’t know how to get into the inner world yet, so I thought we should probably talk out here.
I don’t think our current system is working. We need to come up with something else.
If you want, you can leave a note back. Actually please do. My phone passcode is “081001” if you want to leave a note there, or if you want to leave a handwritten note, the paper and pens are in my bottom desk drawer.
Please write back.
-Peter
He clicked the pen shut and leaned back in his seat, eyes skimming over what he’d written. ‘That should do,’ he shrugged, pushing his chair back to stand up.
He hoped that Spiderman would get the note.
If not, he was going to have some words for him.
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When Peter woke up, the first thing he did was check his phone. It was now a force of habit to figure out how much time he’d lost between blackouts. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that he’d only lost a few hours between lunch and now.
He stood, stretching, and rubbed his face to try and rid himself of any remaining grogginess. His nausea wasn’t actually too bad this time- maybe whoever had been out (‘Spiderman, probably,’ he thought with a tinge of bitterness) hadn’t been fronting for too long.
He groaned when he saw his equipment scattered across the floor by his desk. He bent over, not quite remembering why it was there, or if he was even the one to dump it there, and began to pick it up. He’d always hated cleaning his room.
As he set his soldering kit down on the desktop, he caught sight of a single piece of paper, slightly crumpled. He blinked in surprise and picked it up.
Memories of the night before flooded in as soon as he skimmed over the contents. ‘Ah, now I remember why all my shit’s on the floor.’
What shocked him even more, however, was the fact that there was a response scrawled in messy, nearly-illegible handwriting near the bottom.
hey, it’s spidey.
sorry i’ve been kind of a dick, i swear i didn’t mean it. sorry about losing it yesterday, i’m not usually that angry. flash is a douchebag, and i guess i just lost my cool. sorry about the suspension.
i agree that our current system is pretty shit. i like fighting crime in the real world, something about the inner world just isn’t the same. it’s pretty exciting to save actual people and not just npcs. i didn’t really think about how much this would effect affect you. sorry dude.
maybe we can come up with a system? mr. stark should be able to help with that. i’m up for seeing him today- or whenever. not like we’re going anywhere else. i talked to may last night, and she agreed to let us go.
also, thanks for the phone password dude. now i can actually respond to your buddy ned.
-spidey
Peter blinked in surprise. He was not expecting Spidey to be that willing to come to a compromise.
“Hey May?” he called, pulling a sweatshirt over his head, “can I go see Mr. Stark today?”
“Sure!” she called back, “have fun!”
Peter looked down at the note in his hand after he shoved his shoes on, staring at the messily-scrawled words for a second time.
Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.
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“This work for you, kid?” Mr. Stark asked, shoving the paper at him.
Peter skimmed over the schedule, nodding as he went along. He raised an eyebrow at one part. “Snack breaks? What am I, eight?”
“You act like it sometimes,” Tony muttered under his breath. “Anyway,” he interrupted before Peter could even think to be offended, “you have a boosted metabolism, probably on par with the Capsicle’s. You need to eat.”
“I get that, but every hour?”
Tony shrugged. “Can’t have you passing out. What kind of a mentor would I be if I let you die of hypoglycemia?”
Peter rolled his eyes.
“I’m being serious here!” Mr. Stark sounded offended. Peter huffed out a sound that he thought could pass for a laugh if Tony didn’t read too much into it.
“So, uh, I guess I’ll try to run this by Spidey?” he said a bit hesitantly.
“How you planning on doing that?”
Peter shrugged. “I don’t know his triggers yet.”
“Didn’t something happen yesterday?” Tony pointed out, popping a bit of trail mix into his mouth. “Granola?”
Peter shook his head. “No thanks. And that was a negative trigger. I don’t wanna make him angry.”
“What triggered him?” Tony spoke through a mouthful of his snack.
“Someone insulted him- well, me, actually, but he was the subject of the insult.”
“I could insult you if you want.”
“No thank you.”
“I’m bein' serious here.” Tony sat down on one of his work benches, crossing one leg over the other. “I could try insulting him? I’ve got some words to say about his latest spidery escapades.”
“Please don’t make him angry again,” Peter huffed, “that’s what got me suspended in the first place.”
Tony shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t offer. Anything else we could try?”
“Um, I don’t really know,” Peter stammered, “is there anything you guys talk about a lot?”
“I could try mentioning Karen,” the older man suggested.
Peter raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Karen?”
“His AI. I built her for his suit.”
“Who names an AI ‘Karen?’”
“Spiderman, obviously.”
“Of course he did,” Peter sighed, shaking his head. “He’s like a toddler- he never sleeps, I’m always tired, and he has terrible fashion sense.”
“See?! Finally, someone with some sense here. FRIDAY, are you getting this?”
“Yes, Boss,” came FRIDAY’s pleasant drawl from somewhere in the ceiling.
Peter sighed again, then perked up.
“Oh! I can feel someone.”
“Spiderman?”
“Maybe, I don’t know.” Peter focused on the buzzing sensation as it grew stronger. “You know what? Keep insulting him.”
Tony snorted, but complied. “Okay then, kid. Uhhh, well, he’s a bit of a hassle to deal with.”
“Yeah? How so?” The buzzing intensified, and a strange, almost hostile presence made itself known.
“He’s always staying out til the ungodly hours of the morning,” Tony began, “sometimes I have to wrestle him back here and force him to go to bed.”
“Here?”
“I can’t exactly drag Spiderman to a grungy apartment in the middle of Queens,” Tony explained, “people’d notice, even if it’s at three in the morning. Besides, what would your unusually attractive aunt have to say about that?”
Now it was Peter’s turn to snort. “And she never got suspicious?”
Tony shrugged. “I just told her that he got tired and fell asleep at his workstation. Not entirely a lie, but not exactly the truth either.”
Peter went to laugh, but it was cut short by a wave of dissociation.
‘Okay, I know you’re angry, but can we just work something out and not get angry?’ he asked as nicely as he could.
“Kid? You good?”
“Mm,” he mumbled, “switchy.”
“Switchy?”
“Think… think iss working,” he clarified.
“Ah.” Tony shoved another handful of trail mix into his mouth. “Carry on. I’ll wait.”
“You insult me behind my back and expect me not to shove you back?”
‘In my defense, it worked. And Mr. Stark was the one insulting you.’
“Wow. I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Spidey quoted in a mock British accent.
‘You know vines?’
Spidey barked out a laugh. “I've been here for months now, being front-stuck gets boring real quick. Of course I know vines.”
Peter swayed in place as Spidey inched forward. He pressed a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, staring at the wall like a cat who had seen a ghost.
“Okay, fine. I’ll co-con. I’ve only done it with Keagan before, but I think this’ll work.”
Peter nodded, vaguely aware of how weird it probably seemed to Tony.
He blinked, and looked around.
“This is weird,” he- they? They muttered.
“Spidey? That you, kid?” Tony asked, setting the now-empty bag of granola aside.
“Yeah,” they answered, “It’s Peter and Spidey.”
Tony looked confused, so they clarified, “We’re both in control.”
The man nodded and stood up.
“So, Pete, you fill him in on the schedule?”
Peter could feel Spidey’s confusion. ‘Did you guys come up with one?’ Spidey asked.
‘Yeah. Wanna take a look?’
‘Sure.’
They lifted the schedule up to read it. Peter let Spidey take control of the body for a moment, allowing for him to rake his eyes down the page. “That works,” he said, nodding.
“Cool, cool. Any changes you wanna make, or is this good?”
They blended together again, shaking their head. “This works,” they affirmed.
“Alright. You two do your… thing, I’ll be in the lab upstairs if you need anything.” Tony did a funny sort of salute as he left, crumpling up the empty bag of and chucking it at the garbage can. He failed, of course, but he lazily flapped his hand. “DUM-E, clean that up.”
The robot beeped and deployed a broom, making wild swinging motions as it tried to follow Tony’s command.
As soon as Tony left, Spidey stepped back, letting Peter take full control of the body again. It was rather smooth, especially for their first time doing it.
“So, that was fun,” Peter commented aloud.
Spidey huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, but don’t expect me to be doing this too much.”
Peter snorted in response. “Of course not,” he said, “I wouldn’t expect you to. For as… graceful as that was, I don’t really like confronting all too much. It feels a little invasive.”
“I didn’t mind it,” Spidey shrugged, “I just don’t vibe too well with you. We don’t have much in common. I’m a swinging vigilante who likes to stay up until death o’clock, you’re a straight-A student who isn’t even straight.”
Peter let out a laugh at that. “Yeeeeah, maybe. I dunno. So, you get to patrol until eleven, then you go right to bed. Got that?”
“Works for me. I’m gonna miss staying out late, but hey, we’ve got the whole summer to do that.”
Peter nodded. “Yeah. Once it’s summer, you can front a bit more. And no more fist-fighting mean guys at school, alright?”
“Fine, fine,” Spidey grumbled, “whatever. He deserved it anyway.”
“He did, but I didn’t deserve an out of school suspension.”
“Joke’s on you, I don’t go to school.”
“How old are you?!”
“Same age as you. I dropped out, man. School’s not gonna do much for me.”
Peter sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Okay, whatever, I won’t push. Just- try not to do too much harm to the body, okay?”
“Will do. Can I go now? I think Alex is getting a bit worried.”
“Yeah man, sorry for keepin’ you here. Good luck dealing with her.”
“Yeah. See y’around, dude.”
The buzzing in Peter’s head came to a halt, and the spaciness he’d been feeling before subsided. He sighed in relief.
“Guess I better go meet Mr. Stark upstairs,” he muttered to himself.
He clutched the schedule in his hand, uncaring that the paper was getting crumpled-up. God, he hoped this would work. He just had to trust that Spidey would keep his word.
He smiled at the feeling of a little nod at the base of his skull.
He had a feeling he would.