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Daisy didn’t think that her chilly, winter day would start with something huge flying up and onto the roof she was sitting on, causing her to drop her warm ham and cheese sandwich down four stories to the bustling Brooklyn street below, but here she was.
“Oh my gosh, ma’am, sorry, I’m so sorry, sorry,” rang out behind her. “I didn’t think anybody was up here.”
“You made me drop my sandwich,” Daisy complained.
Her ribs were hurting from last night’s escapades and she had run out of painkillers. She was not in the mood to deal with... she turned to see a skinny kid in a blue and red skin tight costume, sticking to the side of the roof without holding onto anything.
“Uhhh, woah. Hello. You’re sticky. Haven’t seen that power before,” she said warily.
Sticky kid seemed frozen, the large black eyes of his brightly colored costume going wide.
“You’re Quake.”
Daisy frowned. “Call me Daisy.”
“Quake.”
“Daisy.”
He put his hands on his hips, still staying still while his feet lightly clung onto the steep roof. “Quake.”
Daisy sighed. “What’s your name, sticky kid?”
“Spider-man.” He gave a little wave.
“That’s a lame name. First off, you’re definitely not a man, you’re a kid. And you don’t shoot webs.”
“Well, actually-“
“Nice costume, sticky kid, but I’m going to keep moving. If you don’t mind, I need a new sandwich.” She started to get up to walk away but Sticky kid grabbed her arm, causing her to flinch.
“W-wait!”
Daisy hissed and turned around to face him. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
“Sorry,” Sticky quipped, retracting his arm. “I just, uh. I’m supposed to stop you."
She blinked at him. “From doing what?”
“You’re Quake, a bad guy, and you do bad stuff, and I’m a superhero and I stop vigilantes, so uh. You’re- you’re in trouble.”
Daisy could tell that he’d puffed his chest out when he said that. “I’m not doing anything wrong,” she said dryly. “I was sitting on the roof, eating a sandwich. Then I dropped it, because of you. I’m not being a ‘bad guy’.”
Sticky kid deflated. “But you’re in the news! Mr. Stark said that you were one of the strongest powered people he’d seen and that he needed to put a stop to it-“
“Wait. Iron Man knows who I am? Fuck,” she muttered.
“That- you just said a bad word.”
Daisy let out a laugh. “How old are you? 12?”
Sticky crossed his arms indignantly. “15, actually.”
Daisy raised her eyebrows. “Really? Why are you running around in spandex sticking to roofs and making random, unassuming people drop their sandwiches?”
“It’s not spandex!” he protested.
“It looks like spandex. What, did you get it at party city? Cut up a clown costume?“
“It isn’t spandex. It’s a high tech material that’s bullet proof, Mr. Stark made it-“
“What is it with this ‘Mr. Stark’ thing? Why not Stark, or Tony? Is he your teacher or something?”
“No, he’s-“ Sticky let out a sigh of frustration. “Kind of. He’s an avenger.”
“I’m aware.”
“And so I’ve got to address him properly, ‘cuz aunt May always said I should address someone by their title.”
“Then that’s Miss Quake to you then, Sticky,” Daisy said, an air of humor in her reply.
Sticky seemed to take her seriously. “Oh, um, yeah, sorry. Miss Quake. It’s just that you’re a bad guy, so I didn't think to address you right. Sorry.“
“What makes me a bad guy?” Daisy asked curiously.
“What- um, well. You killed a guy.”
“Three, actually.”
“Exactly! Bad guy,” he said triumphantly.
“But what if my motivations were more ambiguous? Two were rapists. One was a pedophile.”
“Uh-“ Sticky got quiet for a moment, actually thinking about her words. “It isn’t our choice who lives or dies?” he said finally, in such an awkward, innocent tone that she was reminded of how young he was.
“Maybe. Maybe I am a bad guy,” she sighed. “It doesn’t actually fucking matter because nobody cares about me, so.”
Sticky stayed quiet.
Daisy raised a brow. “Aren’t you going to correct me because I said the word fuck?”
Sticky shook his head slowly. “What do you mean, nobody cares?”
“Nobody cares about if I’m a bad or a good guy,” she repeated, “and I don’t care that they don’t.” though even as she said it, her gut twisted painfully.
“I care.”
Daisy snorted. “I mean people that actually care, not random sticky 12 year olds.”
“I do, really. Um, I don’t want you to be a bad guy. I want you to... be neutral, at least. Not bad. If you’re bad it means you’re hurting others, but also yourself.”
Daisy stayed silent.
“I don’t want you to hurt, but it seems like you already are.”
She hummed tiredly. “Maybe I’m hurting because all I ever want to be is the good guy, but all I ever can be is bad. My powers are destructive, they break things, that’s all they can do. From the day I was born, every time I dared to have it all- people that loved me, a family- I would lose them all. I’m self destructive and damaging to everyone I come across. I came out of the box shiny and perfect and now I’m this dark, damaged person that can’t sleep at night because that’s when my own bad guys come to hurt me the worst.”
Sticky sat down on the edge of the roof with an audible thunk. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“Me too.”
He tapped his fingers against his knees. “My parents died. When I was 4. And so I lived with Uncle Ben and Aunt May, and then, um- Uncle Ben died too. So it’s just me and May. I can’t sleep at night either. That’s when the nightmares come.”
Daisy bit her lip and slid back down to perch on the roof next to him. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
They sat and looked out at the bustling street below, where Daisy’s sandwich was probably laying mournfully on the dirty concrete.
“But I’ve got aunt May, and she cares about me more than anybody in the entire world. She chases the nightmares away just by existing.”
“I’ve got an aunt May, too. Well, Agent May.”
“Oh? And she cares?”
“Yeah, yeah she does. Or at least she used to. I don’t think she does anymore.”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“Like you said, I’m the bad guy, right?”
Sticky was quiet for a second, then replied, “If I was a bad guy, Aunt May would still care. And she would do everything in her power to help me back to a place where I can be a good guy again. Because she would know that only people in pain become bad guys, and people in pain need somebody to care to get better.”
Daisy sighed. “You’re 16, why are you so deep?”
“I’m not. That’s just what Aunt May tells me.”
“Is she a strong woman?”
“The strongest.”
“Hmm. Sounds like my May. Hey, is she Asian, extremely short, maybe has an affinity for tea and kicking men? Because her having a secret nephew is enough for me to return back to them,” she said dryly.
“Nope. But I think they’d be friends. And, uh- ‘return back to them’? Return? To who?”
She picked at a worn brick in the wall next to them. “I ran away.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a bad guy.”
“Oh.”
Daisy shifted on the roof. “So what are you? Inhuman?”
“What’s that?”
“People genetically born with powers. Hey, totally random question, did you ever encounter blue crystal smoke and then turn into a human husk?”
“...No?”
Daisy raised her eyebrows. “Really? Then what was it?”“A spider bite. And now I’m super strong and I can stick to walls and stuff.”
“So if a spider bites me I'll turn into one? What, is this Twilight?”
“It was radioactive.”
“Damn. Straight out of a comic book.”
“Says the girl named Quake that can destroy buildings in seconds with her superpowers.”
“Touché.”
“Why are you in Brooklyn? The news says you’re in LA.”
“I was. I came here for a little bit. Needed a change of scenery, plus I’ve got a friend around here.”
“Who?”
“His name is Ace. He’s nine. Our team saved his dad from Hydra years ago.”
“So... you do have a person who cares if you’re good or bad.”
“I mean, sort of-“
“So the dramatic ‘nobody cares about me’ from earlier wasn’t entirely true.”
Daisy grinned despite herself. “Shut up. It wasn’t dramatic.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it was! You even had the Batman voice, like ‘grr, angst, nobody cares about me’,” Sticky said with a deep voice. He changed topics at her glare. “What’s Ace like?”
“He’s a sweet kid. I saw him and his dad yesterday for lunch. It was... awkward. I’m not the same person that rescued them.”
“Did they point that out?”
“No, no, they were... great. Mike, the dad, knows what it’s like to be drowned by impossible decisions and guilt. Once upon a time, he was a ‘bad guy’ too.”
“Because he was in pain.”
“Yeah. Plus Hydra forced him to do awful shit by threatening Ace, which I guess is part of it.”
“I’m glad they’re okay now.”
“Me too, Sticky.”
“Can you stop calling me Sticky?”
“What am I supposed to call you?”
“Spider man?”
“No, that’s dumb.”
“Dumber than sticky?”
Daisy pretended to think about it for a second, then nodded.
Sticky didn’t reply, but Daisy could guess that he was rolling his eyes under his mask. “Can you just call me Peter?”
“Only if you call me Daisy.”
“Okay, Daisy.”
She studied him. “Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter.”
“What are you doing?”
“Trying the name out. You don’t look like a Peter. You look like a red and blue Caprisun packet, if anything.”
“I don’t look-? Grr.” Peter pulled his mask off, to Daisy’s surprise.
“Oh. Woah, secret identity much?”
“I trust you- I think,” the brunet said simply. “Though Mr. Stark is going to kill me if he finds out.”
“Trusting me is not smart. Hey, you do look like a Peter! A Peter inside of a Caprisun packet.”
Peter groaned and Daisy laughed.
“My friend Ned was trying to redesign my entire suit when Spider Man became famous. He doesn’t even know it’s me. Yet,” he added. “I want him to know one day.”
Daisy grinned. “Did he make it less of an eyesore? If so, please hand me the petition, I will be one of many signatures.”
“Hey! Actually, it was like that because I didn’t have any other colored clothes that would work when I first started. Then Mr. Stark gave me a suit, and he kept the colors.” Peter said.
“Ah. So it’s his fault you’re a walking jolly rancher.”
Peter chuckled. “I guess so.”
Daisy sighed, her breath just barely tangible in the cold air. “My parents are dead too. Well, basically. I reconnected with them for like, a month. One of them was insane so we wiped his memory and made him a vet. He snapped my mom's neck because she was about to literally drain the life out of me.”
Peter blinked. “Oh my gosh. That sounds traumatic.”
She shrugged. “It was a year ago, now. I don’t think about it much.”
“You don’t- my parents died twelve years ago and sometimes the thought of them is still my alarm clock in the morning.”
“Then I guess you’re better at being an orphan than I am,” Daisy retorted bitterly.
“That’s not what I’m saying, I’m just... maybe you haven’t thought about it because so many things have happened since then. But that means you haven’t grieved yet, which means that grey, awful feeling will stay stuck in you.”
“That grey, awful feeling has been with me for as long as I can remember. I was three, in an orphanage, and a nun told me that once again I wasn’t deemed right for any family.”
“I know. I understand.”
Daisy drummed her fingers against the cold concrete and changed topics. “You remind me of my old friend, Fitz. He was... dorky. And excited about everything. He dressed like a sane person, though.”
Peter made a bubble with his mouth and exhaled it out. “Will you ever stop making comments about my suit?”
“No.”
Peter sighed and laughed.
“Thanks for not apprehending me, Peter.”
“Honestly? I don’t think I could if I tried.”
Daisy nodded in agreement. “You definitely would not have been able to.”
“Yeah. I’m trying to get better at it, though, so I can be a real Avenger like Mr. Stark,” Peter grinned.
“Superpowers aren’t all that they’re cracked up to be,” Daisy muttered.
“Yeah. I know. I fought Bucky Barnes, and he didn’t get his powers of his own will. He seemed nice but Mr. Stark told me to fight him.”
“You seem to listen to Mr. Stark too much,” Daisy said softly.
“He’s… “ Peter’s voice cut off and he shrugged. “He acts like a dad, like one I never had.”
“I had someone like that, too,” Daisy said. “He got too attached. He got hurt.”
“How?”
“Lost his girlfriend… his hand… his judgement…” she whispered, watching as two taxis hit each other’s fenders on the street below them, passerby slowing to take photos and ogle at the small crash.
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“How would you know?” Daisy hissed.
Peter shrugged softly. “I used to think Uncle Ben died because of me, that I could’ve saved him. But now… “ he blew out a breath. “Now I know that anyone else could’ve saved him too. But they didn’t, because nobody was there at the right time and it just… happened. That’s how the world made it.”
“Are you religious?” Daisy asked abruptly.
Peter shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t think about it much.”
“Ah. Yeah, I’m not, really. Got it drilled into me when I was young that I had to… hit some stupid fucking standard just to be loved. And any God that enforces that is no God of mine.”
“I went to church once, to impress this girl I had a crush on. It was okay.”
“Aww, Sticky kid has a crush,” she said faintly, the memory of her cuddling with Lincoln as they talked about her past questionable dating choices hitting her hard, and immediately lost the ability to breathe.
Peter kept talking. “There’s this girl, named MJ, and she’s cool. Really cool. And she draws super well and has probably murdered somebody before. I don’t know her well but she seems… so cool.”
“That’s cool. Good luck with that,” she said genuinely.
“Daisy... My aunt May, I could tell her you’re a friend’s sister or a teacher and that you need to stay for a couple of days… if you need...”
“I’m fine. Really. Besides, you bringing a 27 year old home probably won’t score you any points with your aunt.” She couldn’t risk getting closer to this kid, to let him be hurt by her just like everyone else.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Actually, it’s probably time for me to go.” She got up and stretched, then nudged him with her foot. “By the way, you owe me a nine dollar ham and cheese sandwich from Mikiottos.”
“Nine dollars?” Peter asked in dismay. “Where am I supposed to get nine dollars?”
“Same place I got it. Rob a bank.” She walked off, grinning at Peter’s stuttered reply behind her.
He was sweet, she decided as she leapt from the roof and onto the fire escape of the next building. Too sweet. Like white and black paint, even a touch of her black would taint him, while his bright white personality would just get swallowed by her depression and lack of self worth.
Oh well. Sticky kid and Quake, could’ve been something special.
She just hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid or risk his life. He still owed her a sandwich.