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A teenager was on Clint’s doorstep.
”Is-Is Wraith here?” He asked. It’s raining out, and his many curls were plastered to his blotchy face. He was shivering a little where he stood, but he held a messenger bag protectively to his chest, like somebody would take it.
“...What?”
“Wraith. Uh-He’s a brunet, his hair is a little long but not too much, he’s got a metal arm?”
“Oh… oh. Kid, what the fuck are you doing?”
“What do you mean-?”
“Can’t believe Bucky is fucking around fighting with kids, get the hell in, I’ll get you a towel.” He turned, and shouted into the apartment; “BUCK! A TEENAGER IS HERE FOR YOU!”
His boyfriend’s head peeked out of their bedroom, where he’d been wiping off the ‘tactical eyeshadow’ he wore. Clint thought it just looked like a failed smokey eye.
“Spider-Man?” He asked dumbly. Shamrock and Shake came out from under his legs, making a break for the door. Clint grabbed the kid and pulled him in quick enough that the ferrets bumped their faces into the door, and ran the other way.
“They’re like roombas with worse collision detection.” The kid noted.
Clint froze, as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
“Wait, you’re Spider-Man.”
“Yup.” The kid hummed as he pulled out an abused laptop.
“Bucky knows that.”
“Yes he does.”
“...Do your parents know you do this?”
“Clint.” Bucky admonished from where he was walking into the room.
“Oi, you shut up, we’re talking about this later.”
“My dad does know, yes.”
“Who’s your dad?”
The kid’s gaze flashed to Bucky for a moment, and Bucky nodded to him.
“Matt Murdock.”
Of fucking course.
“Does Foggy know you’re doing this?”
“I mean, not this specifically, but he knows I do stuff like this.”
“Fucking…fine. Fine! You thirsty?”
“Oh God, yes I am.”
–
“So…Why is there a 12 year old in my apartment showing my boyfriend the most abused laptop I’ve ever seen?”
“I’m 16 in two months, and you’re the one who got shot, right?”
Clint stiffened. That had not been an enjoyable experience.
“I was looking into that a bit more, and I managed to get to one of the places they were storing them. Unfortunately, I did have to break into a museum to do it, but they were very understanding.”
“Understanding enough to let a guy in spandex grab an artifact?” Bucky said, audibly distrusting of the story.
“Nope, but understanding enough to let a guy in spandex show them where some people were hiding shit in one of their podiums after proving he was the real Spider-Man.”
“Hm.”
“So, now I’ve got one of these hard drives, and I managed to find my old laptop, That Thing, which is why it looks so anguished. I think the last time i used it it started smoking”
“Why not your usual laptop?” Clint asked.
“Because I don’t want a virus to kill my usual laptop in cold blood. She’s a gentle soul.”
“I’ve seen Tony plug in random harddrives before.”
“Yeah, well, Mr. Stark is richer than God, plus he can afford to replace every bit of technology in New York and then some, so.”
Clint conceded the point.
“Have you gotten anything?”
“A lot of files. Half of them are black, or washed out or something, so I might watch some Game Theory videos.”
Bucky nodded like that made perfect sense, but Clint barked a laugh. “Game Theory? Like, Matthew Patrick, game theory?”
“Hey, MatPat has some good ideas. ”
–
Peter was there for hours, and he’d managed to get through about 20 of the
hundreds of images, many of which revealed useless chunks of text, or white. It didn’t help that his laptop kept crashing or blue screening.
“I think it gave me a virus. I’m gonna send all these images to myself, but the
harddrive’s gonna fuck up anything it touches.”
Then, the kid was packing up at light speed, somehow texting at the same time. His messenger bag almost bursting from the contents already inside.
“Hey, it’s still raining, the hell are you going?” Bucky cut in, stopping him.
“Huh? Oh, I’m gonna go see my friend, Ned. ”
“In this weather? It’s still coming down.”
“Oh, it’s fine. Ned only lives a few blocks away.”
“Spider-Man. You’re going to get sick. At least call a cab.”
“I’m good, see ya!”
Then he’s ducking under Bucky and sprinting out the door.
The two men are silent in their apartment, the only sound now the ferrets fighting over a cat toy.
“I could’ve caught him.” Bucky begins to defend.
“Don’t lie to my face.”
–
“I think I got the last one.” Ned said from across the room. “They’re like…broken apart.”
“Ugh, oh God, do we have to do a puzzle too?”
“I’ll print them in black and white.”
“I’ve gotta call my dad if we’re doing the puzzle, I’ve got stuff over here from the last time I slept over, right?”
“Uhh, yeah, I think so. You call Mr. Murdock, I’ll grab your pajamas.”
The call with Matt went relatively quickly, he was completely fine with Peter staying the night with Ned.
“Text me if plans change, right?”
“Course, lo-later, Matt!”
He hung up, and turned back to see Ned standing there unimpressed.
“What are you looking at me like that for?”
“Lo-later, huh?”
“Oh my God.”
“Dude. How long has he been your dad?”
“Ned.”
“Peter, this is getting disappointing.”
“Ned, you sound like MJ.”
“It’s pathetic, Peter.”
“ Ned! ” He threw a pillow at his friend. “You’re the one who can’t tell his crush he likes her Star Wars pin!”
“That’s different-! ”
–
Two hours later, they finished the world's most annoying puzzle.
“I hate this.” Ned muttered.
“The recipe and a warehouse. Are you kidding me? The recipe and a WAREHOUSE. Why is it always a warehouse? Is there a 50 for 1 sale in real estate? Are they just really fucking cheap? ”
“Peter.”
“I can never trust a warehouse again. There’s always some kind of supervillain. Doc Ock, Vulture, Jeff Bezos, there is not one warehouse in New York that’s safe. Police just gotta do a daily sweep of every warehouse in the city. Organized crime would drop so hard. I’d never have to put on the mask again-!”
“Peter!”
“Ned, have you ever seen a warehouse that wasn’t abandoned? Why does New York have so many abandoned warehouses? At some point it’s our own fault. We just need one demolition crew-”
“PETER!”
He wheeled around to Ned. “What!?”
“You broke your fidget.” He points at the mangled stress ball in Peter’s hand.
“Shit.”
“Don’t worry, man, here.” He tosses Peter a puzzle ball. “All jumbled, just for you, dude.”
“I love you, Ned.”
“I know, buddy.”
—
Another hour later, after he and Ned made a meal for kings, as they always did before big takedowns, Peter was swinging out on the town again, Ned chattering in his ear this time.
“I hate warehouses.” Peter said again.
“Peter, if you say that one more time, I’m replacing your webs with silly string.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You don’t understand the lengths I would go to to make you shut up about how much you hate warehouses.”
Peter huffs as he nimbly gets on top of the warehouse, peering into the skylight that rationally, it shouldn’t have if it was trying to stay hidden. There was nobody inside, beyond a few crates.
That was weird.
He ignored the stone settling in his gut, and Ned saying; “Hey, Peter? This is a little sus, right?”
He also ignored the urge to mutter back an amogus. This was a serious mission that could not be ruined by cackling over an amogus joke.
He tested the ( unlatched? ) window’s hinge, and it was completely silent. He pulled it open all the way, and slowly inched in. His Spider-Sense was going absolutely hogwild at the nape of his neck, and Ned was muttering “ I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate-” on repeat.
He dropped down into the warehouse, thankful for the dim light allowing him to see. He walked over to a crate, wrenching it open, and seeing…
A sticky note?
‘Better luck next time, Spidey-Boy! :)!’
“Peter, you need to lea-!”
That was the last thing he heard, before his Spider-Sense screamed.