Chapter Text
“Dude, are you okay?”
Peter snaps his head up at Ned, who’s looking at him with one eyebrow raised. Snowflakes have already started to collect across Ned’s beanie, Peter involuntarily shuddering as his friend’s look of confusion turns into a frown.
“Are you nervous because MJ’s coming? Is something wrong? Is it a you know what thing?” Ned asks, eyeing him up and down as Peter quickly shakes his head.
“No I’m fine,” Peter lies, an itch in the back of his neck that he can’t explain as they stand outside the movie theater.
It’s not his thermoregulation, or lack thereof, as Ned’s implying. What he doesn’t tell Ned is that he’s wearing the spider suit underneath his clothes, partly to ward off the cold weather but mostly because of that same feeling that’s been nagging at him for the better part of six hours.
“You don’t look fine. You kinda look a little green,” Ned points out, Peter giving him a look and going to say something only to be interrupted by another voice.
“Nedward’s right,” MJ says, Peter immediately snapping to attention as she smirks at the two of them. “Didn’t think green was part of your brand or whatever.”
“My brand?” Peter awkwardly repeats, catching Ned stifling his own smirk as MJ shrugs.
“Primary colors? Or are the ones you chose like, meaningful or whatever?”
Peter frowns, just as MJ flashes a grin and a wink to Ned as Peter says, “Stop trying to create an origin story for me. Your readers don’t need to know everything .”
“They don’t wanna know everything , it’s just a headcanon,” MJ says innocently, Peter playfully rolling his eyes as her grin grows wider.
“You really like writing stories about me?” he asks, maybe a bit too earnestly - MJ’s grin faltering for a bit. If Peter didn’t know any better, he’d say she almost looked nervous.
“Well yeah, cause you’re interesting,” she replies, twisting her lips slightly before continuing, “for readership. My subs have gone crazy since I’ve started writing stuff about... the other you.”
“Oh,” Peter says, inexplicably feeling a little let down at that. “Yeah, of course. I mean, he’s really popular so, it makes sense why you want to know more about him.”
“Yeah,” MJ says, looking a little defeated, the two of them staring awkwardly at each other until Ned clears his throat.
Peter turns to his friend to see an exasperated expression on his face, only for Ned to smile and say, “Can we go inside? I don’t wanna miss the previews.”
Peter and MJ both agree, the latter of whom pointedly ignores Peter as they buy their tickets and snacks. Peter’s already feeling anxious for reasons he can’t quite explain but the knowledge that MJ might have only been interested in hanging out with him to write fanfic about Spider-Man does nothing to quell the churning in his gut.
“Dude, what was that?” Ned whispers to him when they’re finally in their seats, MJ excusing herself to go to the bathroom.
“What was what?” Peter asks, glancing uneasily around the room. There’s nothing amiss that he can see, nothing obvious at least but there’s still a sense of… something in the background.
“You know what,” Ned says with a scoff. “Why’d you make it like MJ only cares about Spider-Man?”
“Ned!” Peter hisses, glancing around only to find no one is paying attention to them. He glares at Ned before saying, “I didn’t say that, she did.”
“Did she? ” Ned argues, Peter shaking his head in frustration as Ned continues, “Dude, come on. You two are so obvious, it’s painful. Literally. I’m in pain right now.”
“Shut up,” Peter says jokingly, looking around the half-filled theater.
Ned continues to chatter about the alleged crush that MJ has on him - something that on any other night would give Peter butterflies but right now is drowned out by a more pressing sense in the back of his mind.
For a brief second everything goes very still, Peter’s eyes darting around as he stands - every cell in his body vibrating with anxiety or anticipation.
Before Ned even gets the chance to ask him what’s wrong, Peter’s senses start screaming at him - eyes widening as he yells, “GET DOWN!”
Within seconds there’s a sound almost like an explosion at the front of the theater, screams erupting across it as Peter throws himself over Ned. The two hit the sticky, dirty floor of the theater hard but Peter doesn’t feel it - adrenaline and panic surging through him as he covers Ned’s head, shielding his eyes and bracing for impact.
The impact never comes, glancing up and seeing people running from the aisle. Peter quickly helps Ned up, looking to the front of the theater and seeing a thick volume of smoke erupting from the center near the projector.
“Let’s go,” Peter calls, Ned pulling at him as Peter frantically looks around to see if anyone’s in need of help - never being more thankful that he was wearing the suit underneath his clothes.
But everyone’s already past the projector, the people in the theater leaving in droves when Peter’s stomach drops - locking eyes with Ned as they start to move.
“MJ. She’s still—“
“Come on,” Ned says, the two of them following the crowd into the lobby - an immediate rush of relief when he sees MJ right outside of the double doors.
“Peter! Ned, what—“
“We gotta go,” Peter says, glancing over his shoulder. MJ doesn’t argue, the three of them following the flow of the crowd until they’re outside - staring back at the building as sirens ring out in the background.
It’s not until they’re a safe enough distance away that MJ pulls at his shoulder, looking him up and down before asking, “What happened?”
“I don’t— I don’t know,” Peter says, eyes widening in disbelief that the fire department was already arriving.
There’s no fire that he can see and the structure is still intact, but the sense at the back of his neck hasn’t gone away. If anything, it’s multiplied now that he’s outside, glancing around in confusion as EMTs and fire rescue come out in droves.
“How’d they get here so fast?” Ned asks, the three of them sharing a look before Ned and MJ turn to Peter.
“Gimme a sec,” he says, looking around the crowds and trying to find where the sense of danger was coming from.
Normally his super hearing is something that gives him a headache but now Peter uses it to his full advantage, closing his eyes and trying to focus on something - anything - that will give some kind of sense to what just happened.
“I can’t believe this. Date night is ru—“
“We should call the babysitter. If we’re gonna—“
“—one is alright. I didn’t even see what happ—“
“—dest call of my life. Did Ramos ever say who it was that tipped us off about the theater?”
There! Peter opens his eyes, looking for the source of that last voice before landing on two firefighters by the truck - both of whom were adjusting their equipment before they went inside.
“Nah, ” Peter hears the other firefighter say, “but whoever it is, I’m glad they did. This could’ve been really bad.”
They’re cut off by another squawk of the radio—Peter just barely catching the words gas and bombs and six —his eyes widening in disbelief just as the two of them run to their supervisor.
“What? What happened?” Ned asks, Peter turning to him and seeing the confusion on his friends’ faces.
“I— there’s something happening. I gotta…” Peter trails off, heart beating a thousand miles a minute as his mind races. If six means what he suspects it does, then the city is in bigger trouble than even his spidey sense could have warned for.
“What can we do?” MJ asks, snapping him back into focus - the relief that both she and Ned were alright slightly alleviating the panic he feels crawling up his chest like a chokehold.
“Stay here,” Peter says. “I doubt they’ll attack the theater twice, but stay out of the street just in case. And whatever you do, don’t take the subway, I don’t— Ned, can you call your mom to pick you guys up, as close as she can get?”
“Yeah, of course,” Ned says, taking out his phone as MJ waits expectantly. He can see the concern in her eyes, reminding him of how she looked the day he unsuccessfully tried out for the track team, eight months earlier.
Any thoughts of their earlier conversations fall away as he says, “It’s bad.” Then another horrifying realization: “Oh god, May! She’s at the Tower visiting Pepper and there’s something—“
They’re cut off with the sound of another explosion, people screaming in the distance causing Peter’s heart to leap up into his throat as they turn to it. His face twists up when he catches the faintest trace of an odd scent in the air. It’s some kind of chemical, and although he knows immediately it’s not ethyl chloride—his danger sense having barely flared up at the smell—it’s still quite possibly dangerous to civilians. He looks back to Ned and MJ, conflicted about leaving them as Ned brings his phone to his ear.
MJ nods towards the direction of the explosion, the concern turning to determination as she says, “Go. We’ll be okay.”
If Peter didn’t feel as if he was going to jump out of his skin with worry for May, he’d stay with them - make sure they’re okay and safely at home before he leaves.
But the warnings from over the radio beckon him, just as the thought of more explosions do, terrified at the possibility that—being in Manhattan, and at Avengers Tower no less—May would be right at the center of it.
He nods once in response, shooting MJ and Ned one last grateful glance before backing away towards an alleyway. Not even a minute later, Spider-Man emerges and swings away.
They’re all gathered for their monthly Avengers business meeting when the alarm sounds.
Steve is on slide 32 of how the upcoming quarter’s SHIELD budget allotment is being allocated—and Tony needs to find out who showed the old man how to use PowerPoint, because someone needs to pay for boring them all to death because harassing Steve over it would be a bit too much like kicking a puppy who just learned how to play fetch for Tony’s liking—when FRIDAY speaks up.
“Excuse the interruption, Captain, but reports are coming in regarding a gas attack—chemical substance unknown at present—in Queens, with an anonymous tip that more are set to be released throughout the city imminently. Additionally, the Sinister Six have just now been spotted in various locations, and have begun what seems to be a coordinated physical strike.”
“All of them?” Clint asks, looking alarmed.
“That would be correct, Mr. Barton.”
“Alright Avengers, you know what to do,” Steve says with calm determination. “Everyone suit up and be on the jet in five. We’ll talk strategy on the way.”
Without further conversation everyone stands up and heads for the door. Just as Steve passes by Tony says to the captain, “Don’t wait for me, I’ve booked the Iron Express.”
Steve doesn’t even slow his stride, just nods at him without comment and leaves to gather his gear.
Tony is just about to send a message to Pepper and May to stay indoors in the penthouse—the latter having come over to try on some of Pepper’s gently used business suits before they were to be donated—when there’s a hand on his arm. He looks up into Bruce’s concerned face.
“Tony, considering it’s an unknown chemical—do you think you ought to tell Peter to keep his distance? Until we know for certain it’s not ethyl chloride or a related substance, anyway.”
Before he can respond FRIDAY does it for him. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Boss. The Iron Spider is activated and near the center of the first gas explosions, although it does appear Mr. Parker is swinging away from the melee and in the direction of the Tower.”
Tony’s brow furrows with concern. “Swinging away? That’s strange. Is he injured or compromised in any way, Fri?”
“That’s a negative, Boss.”
“Probably coming to check up on his aunt.” He shoots a shrug at Bruce. “Looks like for once the issue of Spidey’s kryptonite solved itself. I’ll tell May not to let him leave once he arrives, at least until we know what we’re dealing with.”
Bruce nods, satisfied. “See you out there.” He races out of the room and disappears just as Tony raises his wristwatch, dialing Pep.
“Tony,” Pepper answers after the first ring, “FRIDAY told us there’s been a gas attack? What–”
“Make that plural, hon—attacks,” Tony interjects. “Looks like the Sinister Six got their act together enough for a coordinated effort. Listen, I want you and May to stay put in the penthouse, alright? And tell May that Peter is safe and on his way here, and not to let him leave her sight until we know the gas isn’t ethyl chloride.”
From through the conference room windows he sees the quinjet fly by, heading toward Queens.
“We’ll take care of him,” Pepper promises. “Just, Tony—stay safe, okay?”
“I always do, Pep,” Tony replies, lips turning up. He can practically hear her eye roll just before she hangs up. To the room he says, “Fri, send a suit to meet me on the–”
“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupts from above, sounding almost perplexed. “There appears to have been a breach of rooms 50C-223 and 50C-224.”
Tony glances up sharply. “My personal labs? Is it the kid?”
There’s a pause. “I’m not sure. Exterior security detected a window has been propped open but I cannot presently access the rooms’ camera or audio.”
“Well, that’s not ominous,” Tony murmurs to himself. Addressed to Fri, “Security system update?”
“None were scheduled,” the AI responds. With not a small amount of snark she adds, “Although, it wouldn’t be the first time someone in Mr. Hogan’s department forgot to add a software upgrade to the log.”
“Hap is gonna make some heads roll if that’s the case,” Tony replies, smirking. He turns serious once more as he asks, “Are all of the Six accounted for elsewhere?”
“Yes, Boss. The team is just now beginning to engage each of them at different points throughout the city.”
Tony considers his options. “Well, it’s probably just Pete, but I’ll do a quick check anyway.”
He heads for the south bank elevators that lead to the lab levels, quickly making his way down.
“Peter?” he calls out as he enters the lab. He looks around but doesn’t see anyone, although one of the windows remains cracked open. Odd, Tony thinks—the teen is usually more careful when he comes through this way. Body tensing with growing suspicion, Tony cautiously steps a few more feet in. “Kid, are you–”
Just then there’s the sound of sharp footfalls racing up behind him. Tony instinctively starts to twist, only for something heavy and metallic to slam hard into the back of his head.
The last thing he sees before everything goes dark is the floor rushing up to meet him.