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Peter turned the phone over in his hands. It was a sleek, black, flip-phone with one number saved into it, and, to anyone else, it looked perfectly normal. Nothing special about it. Nothing that would warrant the way Peter bored holes into it with his eyes.
Thing is, this phone was given to him by Black Widow.
Yeah, that Black Widow.
He’d been on a normal patrol, and had just finished webbing a couple unconscious guys to a dumpster in an alleyway; his spidey-senses had been going haywire for the past few hours, and it was really unnerving him. They weren’t the most accurate of warnings, but they tended to know when something was wrong more often than not, so their constant insistence that something was up served to really put him on edge. It was because of this extra edge that he’d picked up on it; the sound of an extra pair of footsteps following him into this alleyway, which turned into shallow, quiet breaths coming from a nearby fire escape. He was being followed, and the person knew what they were doing. Once he deemed the two men suitably stuck (alongside the bags of cocaine they were attempting to exchange), Peter knew he had to do something about his tagalong.
“You know,” He started, looking towards the sky as he spoke. He heard the person’s breath hitch, “If you’re planning on like, following me until I strip off somewhere, at least tell me it’s to expose my identity and not some weird kink of yours.”
The person stayed silent for a few seconds, before huffing out a laugh.
“Guess I couldn’t hope to be sneaky around you, huh? How long have you known I was here?” Came the voice from the shadows. It was feminine, and definitely older than Peter.
“Mm, I knew something was wrong for a while, but it was your breathing that gave it away.”
The voice sounded incredulous, “My breathing?”
Peter looked towards the sound. He could make out the figure of a woman crouched on the fire escape.
“You ran pretty quick to catch up to me,” he explained, shrugging, “Your footsteps were lighter than mine and these two, and when you stopped, you were out of breath. I could hear it easier.”
“Not bad.”
The figure swung over the railing of the fire escape, landing on the ground. Now bathed in moonlight, Peter could make out the person’s features. Long red hair, black jumpsuit, black gloves and holy shit, why is Black Widow following me?
Peter gulped,
“T-Thanks? Uh… should I be worried a renowned assassin is following me at night or?”
“Not unless you’ve done something to be assassinated.”
Peter chuckled, “I dunno, have I? I have, like, tons of enemies. You know that Jameson guy? Really not fond of me. I literally saved a bus full of children and he said I was a menace for blocking traffic and “causing havoc” ‘cos I put it down in the wrong place.” Peter threw his hands up, “Like, what? Does he know how heavy a bus is? I hadn’t even eaten yet! There was a guy with a laser gun shooting at me! And here he is, getting mad over bus placement-”
“Okay, stop. I forgot how much you talk.” Widow frowned.
Right. They’d fought together once before, when a bunch of bombs were rigged around the city. Peter had heard the beeping from all over the city and had immediately suited up, disposing of two bombs before running into the Avengers. It took little convincing for them to let him help when he revealed he could pinpoint the bombs locations in seconds and also knew who planted them, (see: a salty construction worker who’s charges he’d accidentally ruined with water whilst fighting a guy in a mechanical rhino costume), and so his suit had been connected to the Avengers communications channel and they’d spent the afternoon playing treasure hunt with deadly IEDs. He’d also learnt that the Avengers were far more curt with each other than expected, and so Peter had taken up the role of comedic relief, throwing commentary and one liners down the mic at a random superhero at a time. Tony Stark ( yes THE Tony Stark!) had subsequently booted him from the comms, miming to him to shut the hell up, then yelled a ‘nice job, kid!’ before he and the rest of the team headed off. So, yeah, maybe he’d spent the afternoon annoying the Avengers, but he also saved the city, so, he deserved it.
“Look, here’s the deal,” Widow folded her arms, levelling him with a frankly terrifying stare, “You were really helpful with those bombs. You’re clearly enhanced, strong, and smart. You have a relatively high tech suit, which I’m assuming you made yourself,” a nod, Peter was very proud of his suit, “And we think you’d be a good addition to the team in times of need, despite your inability to shut up.”
Peter froze.
“Are you asking me to join the Avengers? ” He gaped. Surely not. He was just a 16 year old kid from Queens who could stick to walls, no way was he anywhere near good enough to fight alongside people like Iron Man and Captain America!
“More like asking you to be an Avengers sidekick of sorts.” She retrieved a black phone from her pocket and tossed it Peter’s way. He caught it, easily. “We use that to call you if we need you, and if you’re available, you come help.”
Peter eyed the phone warily.
“I take my, uh, secret identity thing pretty seriously,” he said, inspecting the phone, “How do I know you won’t use this to track me and find out who I really am? No offence, I know you’re the actual Avengers and all, but how can I trust you?” Widow smiled at that, seemingly proud.
“Thinking ahead, not letting the novelty of a situation blind you to it’s dangers. I knew you were smart.” She shrugged, “Feel free to take it apart, there’s no tracker. All it has in it is a number. You can save that and trash the phone if you want, long as you send the number a message.”
She turned and began to walk out of the alleyway, apparently feeling the conversation was reaching a close, “It’s only so we can contact you easier. Spider-Man isn’t easy to get a hold of when you don’t have a first and last name.”
“Guess not. Alright, I’ll keep it in mind.”
She threw a final look over her shoulder at him, grinning,
“Thought you would.”
And with that, she disappeared, leaving Peter standing shellshocked in a dingy Queens alleyway for several minutes before he finally regained composure and continued his patrol.
The phone was a heavy weight in Peter’s pocket for weeks. He took it everywhere, but eventually believed it would never ring. There had been plenty of attacks on New York, (seriously, no one should live in this city, it’s so insanely dangerous), and yet Peter hadn’t heard a single word.
When it finally did ring, he was so shocked he almost didn't pick up.
(He did, eventually. I mean, it's the Avengers! )
"Hello there. This Spider-Man?"
Scratch that. It's Tony Stark!!!
"Yes, Mr. Stark. Hi. It's Spider-Man. Yep." Really smooth, Parker.
Mr. Stark chuckled on the other end of the line. Peter could faintly hear his repulsors in the background, was he flying somewhere?
"Lovely, you didn't throw the phone out. You anywhere near Times Square?" He asked.
"I can be."
"Hurry your spidey ass over here then." Click.
Peter jumped from his bed, rummaging around in his closet for his suit. He quickly stuffed himself into it before jumping from his window, soaring above the bustling New York streets, trying to hone his senses into the commotion at Times Square. The first thing he latched onto was the sound of Iron Man’s repulsors, which he then promptly lost under the wave of screams and cries. Peter turned the twenty minute journey into a two minute one, perching atop a nearby skyscraper and surveying the chaos that was now Times Square.
The Avengers were out in full force, each member fighting multiple mutants at once. Mr. Rogers was fending off a half bear-man, a woman with multiple arms (totally stole his thing) and another man who was almost 100% muscle. Black Widow had a pair of slimy looking (literally) twins, Hawkeye was dealing with a guy with weird bat wings and a praying mantis-woman hybrid, and Mr. Stark was busying himself with a guy made of stone, alongside someone who could send out waves of energy strong enough to throw even Peter off balance.
Peter was about to hop right into the middle of the action, when a sudden voice rang in his ears,
“Good to see you, Spidey.” Peter practically jumped out of his skin.
“ WHAT THE- Did you hack my suit?” He hissed, immediately on edge, “Not the move of a trusting teammate, Mr. Stark.”
Another voice chimed in,
“‘Mr. Stark?’ Jesus, Tony, how old is this guy?” Steve Rogers was talking through his suit. Okay. Cool.
“Dunno, didn’t carbon date him.” came the reply, “And yes, I backdoored your suit. Needed a way to add you back to our comms. Everyone say hi to the nice vigilante in spandex.”
“Kind of-” a grunt, “Busy right now!” Peter glanced down in time to see Black Widow throw one of the twins over her shoulder and punch the other square in the face. God, she was badass.
“Whatever. Spidey, can you get on crowd control? Pick up any stragglers, the works.”
Peter huffed. Okay, maybe he’d hoped for a more active role in the mission, but he couldn’t say no to Tony Stark. Besides, he’d already picked out a couple innocent bystanders who were either stuck or injured. With an affirmative called down the comms, he dived off of his skyscraper and got to work.
“FRIDAY, how many are left?” Tony asked, breathless.
“Five, Boss.” His A.I. coolly replied, “Two are occupied by Rogers, one by Hawkeye, and one by Black Widow.”
Tony frowned, looking away from where the two mutants he’d been fighting now lay motionless. They weren’t dead, just out cold, and a hell of a lot less annoying than when they were awake. He visually confirmed what his A.I. was telling him, and decided that his team had it handled.
“That’s only four, FRI. Where’s number five?”
“I believe they are hiding in the wreckage somewhere. I am running a scan now to try and pinpoint their location.” Tony nodded, mostly to himself, before activating the comms again.
“Five left, last one’s hiding somewhere in all this shit so keep an eye out.” There were noises of acknowledgement in his ears, which he supposed was all he could ask for mid battle, “We don’t know what their ‘thing’ will be so be extra cautious of where you step.” Another round of affirmatives.
“Incoming from above, Boss.” FRIDAY chirped.
Suddenly, Spider-Man dropped down in front of Tony, almost startling the man to an early grave. He really needed to upgrade FRI’s warning system to be able to keep up with the boisterous vigilante.
“Mr. Stark! I’ve cleared out all the civilians, can I help you find the last bad guy?” He asked breathlessly, practically bouncing on his toes with energy.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Tony said curtly, not missing the way the guy’s shoulders sagged at his refusal. “But, it depends on whether you’re as good at finding bad guys as you are bombs.”
Spider-Man almost instantly lit up again, nodding profusely.
“Oh, yeah! I am! Totally! I once found this guy-”
“Save the stories for after the battle, will ya?” Tony fired up his repulsors, lifting a couple feet off the ground, “Number five’s somewhere in all the rubble, I’ll get a birds eye view, you use that freaky strength of yours to upturn some rocks.”
The masked vigilante nodded, giving him a thumbs up. Satisfied, Tony flew further into the air, positioning himself in the middle of the chaos.
“FRI, honey, scan for any heat signatures.”
“I am unable to detect any lifeforms at this time, Boss. The combined abilities of the mutants have altered the surroundings in a way that is affecting my software.”
Lovely. “Keep trying. There might be a moment where it subsides enough for you to get through.” Tony said, wincing as he watched Capsicle take a rather nasty blow to the side, “Switch back to the main comms.”
“Switched.”
“Spidey, I’m gonna go give Rogers a hand. You good to keep with the search?” He asked, already diving down towards the battle.
“Oh! Uh, yeah! Of course! Go help Mr. Captain America. He looks like he needs it.”
Steve grunted as he took another hit.
“Hurtful, Spidey. And Steve is fine, please. You make me feel old.”
“But you are pretty old, Sir.” Spidey responded innocently, “Like, factually speaking. You’re at least over a hundred.”
Tony chuckled as he grabbed the beefcake mutant and threw him into the side of a building, as far away from Steve as he could manage. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to do much damage, the bastard got right back up again.
“Guy’s got a point, Cap.” Clint teased.
The fight continued on, with each Avenger systematically incapacitating their respective mutants. It was relatively normal, as Avengers missions go, with the only real difference being the never ending chatter from Spider-Man.
Despite his initial resistance towards him, Tony had actually grown a little fond of the hero. After their afternoon of bomb hunting, he’d gone home and binged every video he could find of Spider-Man on the internet, alongside any article, blog, or story written about him. He seemed to be a relatively good guy; a native of Queens, Tony presumed, as that was his patch, pretty young, probably early twenties, and always looking out for the little guy. The ‘Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man’ was his nickname, and Tony couldn’t think of a more fitting one if he tried. The guy was clearly enhanced, with a weird set of abilities Tony still couldn’t quite get a good read on, but he never used them wrong. In all his research, there was never an instance in which Spidey had killed someone or was gratuitously violent - the worst he did was leave a couple bruises and broken bones.
So, yeah, he liked the guy. Sue him. While the insistence on the secret identity was a little bit much, (Tony had tried to figure out who he was, but to no avail), he figured the guy just had a family he wanted to protect. A girlfriend, wife, maybe even kids. Tony knew first hand that you didn’t get into the hero business without collecting a fair few enemies.
Once Beefcake finally stopped getting back up, Tony scanned the area, eyes latching onto a flash of blue and red as Spider-Man hovered above the rubble. No doubt searching for the last bad guy.
“Any luck, Spidey? Think we’re all done out here.”
“No… nothing.” The guy looked defeated as he swung down from his position to meet the rest of the team, who’d now all gathered.
“You sure there’s one more, Tony?” Natasha asked, seemingly ready to pack up and go home.
“I saw him when we arrived,” Clint pointed out, “Weird pale guy in a trench coat. Pretty normal looking. Lost track of him when it all kicked off though.”
“Like the Matrix!” Spidey exclaimed. Clint narrowed his eyes in response,
“Uh, yeah. I guess so.”
Spidey nodded, happy someone finally understood one of his pop-culture references,
“Well, maybe he ran away! I’d be pretty terrified if basically all the Avengers showed up to fight me. Not to mention, I’m pretty terrifyi… ” He suddenly trailed off mid-sentence, standing up straight. The previous relaxed demeanour dissipated almost instantly. He glanced from left to right, “Something’s wrong.”
Tony frowned, “Huh?”
He didn’t respond, only frantically whipped his head back and forth as if looking for something. All of a sudden he started doing what looked like his best impression of a video game character attempting some bullshit cheat code: one step forward, one step to the left, pause. One step forward.
“Spider-Man, what is it?” Steve asked, sounding just as confused as the rest of them looked. The vigilante paused, then looked down. The rest of the team’s eyes followed, finding he’d stopped on top of a manhole cover in the centre of their little meeting circle. The hero was silent for a few more seconds, then,
“He’s in the sewers. He’s coming up.” They all whipped their heads up to look at Spider-Man, but he was already gone, swinging upwards, “MOVE!” he yelled over his shoulder, panic evident in his voice.
They didn’t need to be told twice. Every Avenger scattered, just in time to watch as a pulsating beam of light erupted from the sewers. In the midst of it, there was a human, grinning maniacally as he shot beams of light in all different directions. A sweltering, crushing heat oozed from each one, a clear indicator that whatever energy this guy was putting out, it would melt through all of them like butter.
“Fucking Christ!” Tony yelled, ducking behind some rubble for cover, “Everyone, check in!”
“I’m okay,” Steve responded, “Nat too. We’ve holed up in a convenience store.”
“Same here,” Clint said, “But I can’t get a shot on the guy. Whatever energy shit he’s giving off kills my arrows.”
“Spider-Man?” Tony asked. The silence was a little too long. “Spidey, please don’t be dead.”
Tony felt like he was gonna throw up.
“I-’m good!” Oh, thank god. “The heat’s messing with my suit a bit. It’s kinda going haywire. I can’t- I can’t hear you guys very well.”
“Well, that’s handy,” Tony muttered, trying to calm his rapid heart rate.
“That was a good call, Spidey, a few seconds later we’d probably be melted to the pavement right now. How’d you figure out he was coming?” Clint asked.
Silence.
“Spider-Man?”
A staticky voice came through the comms,
“Guys? Guys? Hello? Oh, Jesus, this is not good!”
“He can’t hear us,” Tony narrowly avoided another beam of energy before speaking again, “Must be his suit.”
“Buddy, have you ever heard of global warming?!” Spider-Man called out, unaware everything he was saying was being broadcasted, “Polar bears will hate you for this!”
Nat chuckled in disbelief,
“He never stops, does he?” She asked.
“Not to mention New York’s light pollution is already awful! I mean, do you guys have no respect for the world you’re trying to overtake?” Tony peered around his cover in time to watch the vigilante flip out of the way of multiple beam attacks, some of which were too close for comfort. He landed gracefully on the top of a billboard, slipping into the space between it and the building.
“No, he doesn’t.” His tone was annoyed but there was an undeniable fondness to his words, “Spidey’s technical difficulties aside, anyone got any ideas on how to get this guy?”
The team began bouncing strategies off of one another, only interrupted every now and then by Spidey teasing and jeering at the very unstable man currently attacking them. He’d seemed to accept that his suit had shorted out, opting to wait for the others to jump into action and follow their lead. In the meantime, he’d taken to being a distraction swinging from building to building to keep the villain's attention. His unwavering faith in the Avengers was sweet; he had no way of knowing where any of them were, if they were even still there, and yet he put himself in the line of fire to keep them safe as they strategized. Tony made a mental note to thank him for that later.
Just as they settled on a plan - “I’ll make him look at me, then Steve, you throw your shield at him and knock him out of that beam” - his train of thought was interrupted by a scream.
“SPIDER-MAN!”
“What the- MJ!”
He whipped his head up and watched as Spider-Man dropped from the advert he’d been standing on, frantically swinging towards a girl. From the looks of things, she’d been hiding in a store while the battle went on, but the building had taken the brunt of a rather nasty beam. It had begun to collapse, and she was forced to run into the middle of the action or be crushed. She held her arms out as Spidey came barrelling towards her, snatching her off the ground at the last minute before diverting back towards a safe landing point. She latched onto him as tightly as possible, wrapping both arms around his shoulders and interlocking her legs around his waist. The hero’s strength astounded Tony, as he watched him swing with only one arm and use the other to support the girl’s back, all while dodging energy attacks.
“Aw, shit, go now! Now!” Tony called into the comms, firing a shot at the villain to draw his attention. As he turned, Steve emerged from his and Nat’s spot, hurling his shield in a perfect arc towards the villain. He had no time to react, only enough for his eyes to comically widen before he was hit head on with twelve pounds of vibranium. Luckily, as soon as he went down, so did all his energy beams. Tony sighed in relief,
“Nice throw, Rogers.” He walked towards the now incapacitated villain, gently nudging him with his foot to make sure he was definitely down. “FRI, let the proper authorities know the hard work’s all done.”
“Will do, Boss.”
Steve chuckled at that, strolling past Tony and picking up his shield from where it had landed. Nat and Clint followed shortly after, crowding around the unconscious man. It then dawned on Tony that they hadn’t heard from their friendly vigilante.
“Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay?” On cue, Spider-Man’s worried voice came over the comms, and Tony scanned the area to find him standing with the girl he’d just saved a little further down the road.
His hands ran down her shoulders before coming to hold her face, gently turning her head side to side. The Avengers all seemed to pause at how familiar and frantic he was acting.
“You think he knows her?” Nat asked.
“Dunno, FRI, zoom in for me.” Tony murmured.
The girl nodded, just as frantic as the boy. She looked relatively unharmed, the worst of her injuries were some superficial scratches. But, now that Tony could see her up close, he realised just how young she looked, No older than 17, he guessed.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Her voice was quieter than Spidey’s, but they could still hear it through his suit, “I swear I’m okay.” She rested a hand over one of Spider-Man’s, offering a shaky smile. The vigilante visibly relaxed, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers.
Oh. He definitely knows her.
“You scared me so bad, oh my god…” Spider-Man whispered. The rest of the Avengers remained silent, curiously listening in on the conversation, “What were you even doing here, MJ?”
“Tourists lost in New York are perfect for my crisis sketchbook.” She laughed, albeit weakly, “Besides, I couldn’t just run when I saw you were here.” Spider-Man made a confused noise. “What if you got hurt?” she asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“What- I’m Spider-Man ,” he groaned, “Enhanced. With super-healing, and spider powers. When I’m in the suit it’s a given I might get a little roughed up, but you-”
“No.” The girl cut him off, and Spidey’s hands dropped to his sides, “I don’t care if you’re in the suit when you get hurt, I’m never gonna be okay with it. Spider-Man or Peter, I’m always gonna be worried.”
The Avengers all froze, looking between each other.
His name was Peter.
“I had the Avengers backing me up, M.” Spider-Man vaguely gestured in their direction. The girl seemed to tense, but he continued, “Though I do admit, it is nice to hear you care about my general well being. Very sweet of you.”
“Can they hear us? I just said your name.” Spidey shook his head,
“Suit shorted out, comms are down. We’re good.” He laughed, “Though, my girlfriend accidentally revealing my identity to the Avengers does sound like something that would happen to me.” Said Avengers all shared a meaningful look.
“Do we tell him?” Clint asked.
Tony paused, watching as Spider-Man gently led his girlfriend towards the arriving paramedics.
“No. No, we don’t.”
Tony sighed, feeling like his brain was trying to force its way out of his skull. He never enjoyed mission debriefs, but this one had to be in the top five. Why? Because the topic had shifted from “where did the hostile mutants come from” to “should we use Tony’s AI to expose Spider-Man’s secret identity?”
“It’s an insane invasion of his privacy” he explained, for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“I know that, but I have a bad feeling,” Steve gestured to where FRIDAY was projecting the footage from his suit of Spider-Man and ‘MJ’, forehead to forehead, “She looks young.”
The rest of the Avengers were gathered around the projection, unable to deny the fact the girl in the footage was clearly no older than a highschool student. Nat shrugged.
“So?” She asked, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms, “Are you accusing him of something?”
“Maybe.” Steve looked to the rest of the team, “Even if I’m not, don’t you think we should know who he is?”
Tony shook his head.
“He takes his secret identity seriously, this is an insane breach of trust. We’ve only just started working with him, and if we dig into who he is without telling him he might never work with us again.”
Bruce, who was in attendance despite not being present at the battle, seemed to agree, “You already didn’t try to warn him you could hear him. He might feel violated, and he’s a good asset. You don’t want to lose that.”
He’s also a human being , Tony wanted to add.
“But what if he gets hurt?” Clint asked slowly, “Beyond his healing capabilities, I mean. We’ll need to tell his family, his friends, maybe his kids. We’d also need his medical history. We can’t have that if we don’t know who he is.”
Tony was still unconvinced, but Steve nodded.
“Good point, Clint. Especially if there’s more missions like the one today,” Steve turned to Tony as he spoke, “Your only issue with this is that he’d feel betrayed that we looked him up, right? Meaning he might not want to help us anymore?” Tony shrugged, “Okay, so we just don’t tell him then.”
Tony narrowed his eyes, “What?”
“We don’t tell him,” Steve repeated, “We find out his identity, keep it on record. He doesn’t need to know we know. That way he keeps his secret identity, we know more about the random vigilante we’re working with, no harm done.”
Tony found himself considering it. It wasn’t a bad solution. Admittedly, he too was curious about the identity of the web slinging hero.
“Fine,” he threw his hands up in defeat after a few more seconds of thought, “FRIDAY, run facial recognition on the girl in the footage.”
FRIDAY hummed, instantly pulling up the girl’s profile.
“Michelle Jones-Watson, 17. Student at Midtown School of Science and Technology. Current residence: Queens, New York. No known criminal record.”
“Midtown?” Bruce asked, “So she is a high schooler?”
“Yeah, a smart one,” Tony hummed, “That’s a hard school to get into. STEM. Full of kid geniuses.”
Clint’s face seemed to fall, “You don’t think Spider-Man goes there, do you?”
A weight settled in the pit of Tony’s stomach.
“FRI, tell me about this girl’s associates. People she’s seen with the most.”
FRIDAY pulled up multiple stills of security footage from places dotted around New York. In each photo, the girl was with the same two people. The weight got heavier, as both of them were also clearly high schoolers.
“Unsettling how you have access to cameras in a school.” Nat joked, gesturing to a photo in which MJ was sitting at a cafeteria table. Her head was buried in a book, and her two friends were happily chatting. Tony rolled his eyes.
“We’re looking for a Peter, right?” he asked. The others nodded.
“Try him,” Steve pointed to the brown haired kid, “He’s the only one with Spider-Man’s body type.”
“FRIDAY, you heard the man.” Tony mumbled. He felt like throwing up.
The AI scanned the boy’s face, pulling up a new profile.
“Peter Parker, 17. Student at Midtown School of Science and Technology. Current residence: Queens, New York. No known criminal record.”
“Oh god,” Bruce whispered, “He’s a kid.”
Now Tony really felt like throwing up.
They all looked at the photo FRIDAY had pulled up. Peter Parker had brown eyes, brown curly hair and a bright smile. The photo felt like a punch in the gut. No way was that Spider-Man. No way was that the guy Tony allowed to diffuse multiple bombs. No way was that the guy he’d asked to help in a seriously deadly fight. It couldn't be.
“What do you know about him, FRI?” he asked, voice tight.
“Peter Parker is the son of Mary and Richard Parker. Richard Parker was employed at OSCORP, where he worked on multiple high level classified projects as a specialist in genetic mutation. Both he and his wife were victims of a plane crash when Peter was four, leaving him in the care of Ben and May Parker. Ben Parker died a year ago in a shooting in Queens. May Parker currently works as a nurse in Queens and has full custody of Peter. Peter attends Midtown School of Science and Technology, is on the Academic Decathlon Team, and maintains a 4.0 GPA, according to his school records.”
“You think it’s him?” Steve asked quietly.
“Well who else could it be?” Nat asked, “Besides, parents who specialised in genetic mutation would explain where he gets his abilities from.”
“What, you think they experimented on their own kid?” Clint asked incredulously. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling his earlier headache worsening by the second,
“I wouldn’t put it past OSCORP,” he mumbled. “Fuck, we recruited a child .”
“A child who can stick to walls and catch a bus with his bare hands,” Nat pointed out, “I don’t see how this changes anything.”
The rest of the Avengers stared at her like she was insane.
“It changes everything!” Tony sputtered, “I am not going to be responsible for leading a seventeen year old to his death. Do you realise how dangerous it was today? God, he could’ve died, and then what would we have done? That would’ve been on us!”
“You’re not the one who gave him spider powers,” Nat coolly replied, “And he seems to fare just fine on his own. He’ll be in danger with or without us, so I don’t see what the harm is in letting him help if we need it.”
“I’d argue that saving cats from trees and finding stolen bikes is a little different to what we were doing today!” Tony argued, feeling himself become more heated by the second. God, what had he done? “He can run around Queens doing the small stuff all he wants, but I’m not having a kid doing those dangerous missions.”
“Does the ‘small stuff’ also include stopping muggings and robberies?” Nat asked, leaning forward in her chair, “You know the night I followed him around? He got stabbed twice. Twice, Tony, and he just walked it off like it was nothing.”
“That does not make me feel any better about the situation.” Peter’s face covered in blood flashed through his mind. Images of him bleeding out alone in a Queens alleyway taunted him.
“This is probably why he didn’t want us to know who he is, because now all you can see is his age.”
“Well excuse me for not wanting the death of an apparently very promising young mind on my conscience.” Tony stood from his seat, “This meeting is over. Spider-Man is not to be contacted for assistance ever again. If he shows up somewhere he’s not supposed to be, tell him to scuttle back home. I don’t want him around anymore.”
“You’re being dramatic.” Nat drawled, her eyes following him as he hurriedly made his way to the door. “And isn’t that Steve’s call to make?”
Tony paused in the doorway, turning to level a glare at Steve. The soldier held up his hands in a mock surrender,
“I agree with Tony. No more Spider-Man.” Nat scoffed,
“Yeah, how old were you when you first tried to join the army again?”
“That’s exactly why I agree with him. I saw too many kids killed on the battlefield, I don’t want to see another.” Steve said. Nat just rolled her eyes.
Satisfied, Tony left the room, vowing to himself to never see Spider-Man - Peter Parker - hurt. For reasons unknown to him, his previous respect for the vigilante had morphed into a protective urge, and he found himself sick to his stomach at the very thought of the kid running around Queens getting shot at and stabbed on a daily basis. Suddenly he saw so much of himself in Peter Parker, and he wanted nothing more than to shake the kid by the shoulders and tell him how much life he had ahead of him, how he shouldn’t throw it away trying to play a hero.
He found himself back in his private lab, staring blankly at the table in front of him.
“FRIDAY,” he called, “Keep tabs on Peter Parker for me.”
“Of course, Boss. Is there anything in particular you’d like to be notified of?”
Tony paused, “Injuries. If he gets hurt while out as Spider-Man, I want to know. Set up a notification system and link it to my phone.”
“Done.”
He sighed, running a hand down his face. This was the least he could do.
Peter was getting restless. Three months had passed since his last call from the Avengers, and there had been plenty of big threats since then that they, in his humble opinion, clearly could’ve used his help on. So the fact the little black phone had stayed silent was frankly annoying the hell out of him.
He aired these frustrations to MJ a few weeks back. They’d been curled up in his bed, her holding him, when she’d said possibly the most incredible thing Peter had ever heard.
“Why don’t you just help them? You’re waiting on them to call you, they’re clearly not going to. Next time you see them on the news just… go?”
Peter had swooned. She really was his dream girl.
That led him to where he was now - fumbling around his room, half in his suit as he watched a live broadcast of the Avengers fighting on the Queensboro bridge. From what he could see, it wasn’t the whole team - only Iron Man, Black Widow and Captain America - and they were holding their own pretty well against a barrage of scaly sea monsters that seemed intent on gnawing their way through the bridge’s supports. But, they were practically at Peter’s front door, just around the corner. How was he supposed to sit idly by when he knew he could help?
Once suited up, Peter hastily made his way towards the action.
Priding himself on dramatic entrances, the vigilante did a triple backflip midair, stretching out a leg and elegantly kicking a monster away from where it’d attached itself onto Black Widow. The spy seemed to freeze upon seeing him, before grinning and giving him a nod.
Black Widow approved of my entrance, Peter’s heart sung, This is officially the best day of my entire life.
“SPIDER-MAN! What the hell are you doing here?”
O-kay, maybe not.
“Hi, Mr. Stark!” Peter chirped, taking a second to web the creature he’d kicked to the pavement, “I dunno if you’ve heard, but Queens is kinda my territory, and that includes the bridge, so-”
“I don’t wanna hear it!” The hero sounded angry, way angrier than Peter deemed necessary for some silly little water goblins, “Get out of here. We don’t need your help.”
Yikes, that stung. No matter, though, Peter was used to verbal abuse, (see: Eugene ‘Flash’ Thompson), so he just brushed it off and continued fighting alongside Black Widow. Admittedly, it did hurt a little more coming from his childhood hero, but whatever. In the corner of his eye, he could see how the Iron Man suit’s head flicked to look at him periodically. Peter took this as a sign to show off what he could really do, impress Mr. Stark enough that he’d be called on more often.
“Four heads are better than three, Mr. Stark,” He said, barely jumping out of the way of a creature’s attempt at biting his arm off. He swore he heard the hero make a distressed noise, but was too focused on the fighting to pay it any mind.
“He’s right, Tony,” Miss Widow’s smooth voice came through the comms, “He saved my ass a second ago.” This time, the distressed noise was undeniable.
Captain America spoke up, “We’ve already talked about this, Nat,” Peter glanced over to see the man knock out the last of his wave of monsters, “Kid, you need to go home.”
Kid? Peter webbed two more creatures to the pavement, glancing over his shoulder to see Black Widow finishing up on her side of things. He assumed Mr. Stark had done the same, as he came to land nearby.
“The fight’s over anyways!” Mr. Stark said, “Thanks for the help, off you go.” The man waved him off. Peter’s mild confusion morphed into frustration, then anger. They were the ones who reached out to him those months ago, asking for his help, and now they had the audacity to act like he was the annoyance? Yeah, no.
“So, what?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest, “You’ve suddenly decided I’m no good after I helped stop the city being destroyed twice? Half the buildings in New York would be rubble right now if I hadn’t helped find those bombs!”
The Iron Man’s suit’s faceplate lifted, revealing a clearly agitated Tony Stark. His eye twitched as he spoke,
“Yeah, and we appreciated your help. But things change. You can’t help anymore.”
Peter threw his hands in the air,
“Why?” He asked, exasperated. He looked to Black Widow for help, and she simply shrugged as if to say ‘I don’t know either.’
“They’ve decided you’re not suitable for the more dangerous missions, would rather keep you locked down in Queens.” She said. The two men shot her dirty looks, at which she just shrugged again, “He deserves a reason. You’re the ones who insisted I seek him out then ghosted him.” Peter nodded enthusiastically,
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Well, maybe it’s a spider thing to be smart.” She hummed, winking at him. Best day ever again, confirmed.
“The reason is we discovered some things that mean you don’t mesh well with the team,” Mr. Rogers spoke in that careful way he was trained to, “That’s all.”
Peter frowned at that. What in the world could that mean?
“Yeah, believe it or not the Avengers have an age limit.” Mr. Stark hissed under his breath. Unfortunately for him, it was enough for Peter’s enhanced hearing.
It suddenly dawned on him what had happened. They’d connected MJ, from the battle, to him, somehow.
“You know who I am,” he said breathlessly, knowing from the way their expressions twisted that he was right, “You figured it out somehow, and now you don’t want to work with me.” Betrayal hit him like a tidal wave.
“You went behind my back, found out my identity, and instead of talking to me about it you decided to just bench me?”
“Look, kid-”
“NO!” Peter yelled, cutting off a very surprised Tony Stark. He knew the kid to be polite, so the outburst was a surprise, “Don’t call me that, like- like I’m less than you because of how old I am. I can stick to walls, bench press buses, I have a sixth sense for danger and can walk off a frickin’ bullet to the stomach if I eat my greens,” He pointed an accusatory finger at Tony, “If anything, I’m more suited to this than you! You’re just a normal guy in a bunch of metal!”
Mr. Stark’s face twisted,
“I’m an adult, I know the risks. You-”
“Also know the risks!” Peter took a few steps towards the hero as he spoke, “You think I’m stupid or something, Mr. Stark? You think ‘cos I’m not over the age of eighteen that I don’t understand that every night I sneak out of my room to patrol I might die? I’m young but I’m not an idiot!” By this point he was right in front of Mr. Stark, and if it weren’t for the pure frustration and indignation he felt he would probably be embarrassed of the way he was yelling in Iron Man’s face, “In fact, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
He definitely wasn’t going to say that, but the look of confusion on both Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers’ faces was so worth it.
“What do you mean?” Mr. Stark asked. No going back now.
“Your plane,” Peter explained, “With all your fancy tech, and your suits? The one you were going to use to move all your stuff upstate.”
“The one that was attacked by that Vulture guy?” Black Widow asked from behind him. Peter turned to her and nodded - he had no bad blood towards her, in fact it seemed she was the only one to take him seriously.
“Adrian Toomes,” Mr. Stark muttered, “What has that got to do with you?” Peter scoffed.
“Well, Iron Man,” he drawled sarcastically, “Who do you think stopped him from stealing all your tech?” Peter again relished in the realisation that slowly dawned onto the man’s face, “Didn’t think he suddenly got a conscience midway through his heist, did you?”
“You,” he whispered, staring at Peter as if he was seeing him in a whole new light, “You took him down?”
“Yeah. I’d been chasing after him for a while. I caught some guys selling the tech he made and when I tried to intervene he attacked me. We fought like, twice, he told me to mind my business, which I obviously didn’t.” Black Widow snorted at that, “On the night of my Homecoming, I took a girl named Liz to the dance. Turns out her dad was actually the Vulture, and he recognised me in the car ride to our school.” Peter began listing the rest of the night’s events off on his hand, “He threatened to kill me, I left the school dance, he dropped a building on me, I lifted it off of me. I followed him to your plane, we fought on the plane, we crashed the plane, his wings blew up, I saved him, knocked him out, webbed all your stuff together, attached him to it, and left before you showed up.” By the time he’d finished, he was out of breath, and the Avengers were looking at him shell shocked. He stood silent under their gaze for a few seconds before awkwardly shrugging,
“So, y’know, you’re welcome, I guess.” The adrenaline had finally worn off and the fact he was scolding Tony Stark hit him like a truck. Or a building. Heh.
“You did all of that by yourself?” Mr. Stark asked, seemingly breathless. Peter nodded mutely.
“I just wanted to help,” he said, “It’s all I want to do.”
“But what if you get hurt?” Mr. Stark sighed, reaching out and resting a hand on each of his shoulders. It felt weirdly familiar. “You’re good, okay? I get that. But if you died on an Avengers mission, I’d feel like that’s on me. I can’t… I can’t go the rest of my life knowing I put a seventeen year old in such danger.”
“He’s going to do it, with or without us, right?” Mr. Rogers spoke up, looking at Peter almost fondly, “Isn’t it better he does it with a team backing him?”
“What- Where’s your ‘I don’t wanna see any more kids die’ attitude disappeared to, Cap?” Mr. Stark asked. The soldier shrugged,
“Nat was right,” he explained, “Spider-Man is an asset we can’t lose. He can handle himself, and from the sounds of things he’s one mature kid.” Peter grinned under the mask.
“Thank you, Captain America Sir.”
“But,” Tony sighed, dropping his hands from Peter’s shoulders. He stared at him for a few seconds, eyes searching. “Okay, one question for you, Pete.” Peter tensed, and nodded. It was so weird hearing them say his name. He kinda forgot they knew it for a second. “Why did you decide to do this?”
“Do what?”
“This,” he gestured to the suit, “The Spider-Man gig. Why do this and not something else with your powers?”
“Because… when you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen? They happen because of you.” He said softly, “I’ve seen people die because I didn’t step in, and I won’t let it happen again. Even if it kills me.”
Mr. Stark let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes and running a hand through his hair. When they opened again, they zeroed in on Peter, an undeniable fondness softening their edges.
“You’re too much like me, kid.” Mr. Stark muttered, shaking his head before finally relaxing and slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. He found he didn’t mind the nickname this time. “Only you’ve apparently got a heart made of solid fucking gold.” Peter blushed profusely,
“Mr. Stark?”
“Call me Tony, kid.” He looked up at the other two Avengers, “Call someone to clean up the fish, I’m taking this one to the Compound for the debrief.”
Nat smiled smugly,
“Thought only team members were allowed in debrief missions?” She asked.
“Yeah, well, he was on the mission, if only for the last half hour or so. Probably got something useful to contribute.” He turned to look at Peter, whose brain was officially blue screening, “Besides, even if he doesn’t, he’ll be good for morale.”
“Just admit you like the kid.” Nat teased.
“Never said I didn’t.” Tony smiled. “Whaddya say, Peter? Wanna see where the Avengers hang out?”
“Hang on,” Peter backed away for a second, “This has all gone so fast. You’re not mad at me anymore?” he asked. Tony frowned,
“No? And for the record, I was never mad, just worried.” He bit his lip, “Look, emotions aren’t easy for me kid. But when I found out how old you were, all I could think about was having to watch some pure hearted genius kid bleed out because I was too selfish to think of others. I thought I was forcing you into working with us somehow when I sent Nat to track you down.”
“I get now I was wrong, and I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean I’m okay with this, you being seventeen and a vigilante and all that, because I’m not; and no promises I won’t freak out every now and then because I’ve recruited a child, but… You’re good. Really good. You deserve a chance, at least.” He sighed, “Besides, I’d rather you get hurt when I’m around so I can throw you into my multi million dollar med bay instead of however you treat your injuries on your own.”
Peter shrugged, “I usually don’t do anything, they just heal.”
Tony blanched, “How have you not died yet? You know what, I don’t care.” He nodded towards where the actual Avengers quinjet was landing a few feet away, “You coming or not, Spider-kid?” he asked, already heading towards it.
Peter grinned,
“Of course I’m coming.” he said excitedly, falling in step with the older man who simply grinned back at him.
Yeah, this is totally the best day of Peter’s life.