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It took a while to adjust to retirement.
Of course, full retirement didn’t last too long. Spider-Man did disappear completely at first (not easily, but he did it). But after a while, especially into Miles’ first year at college, Pete saw the toll it was taking on him. It was easy to spot since he’d been there before too.
So he talked to MJ. She’d noticed how tired Miles was as well and didn’t hesitate to suggest whipping out the Spider-Man suit again. Pete knew now he wasn’t needed every night. New York City seemed to understand too. The app activity slowed a bit after the Venom and Kraven drama – almost like the city was giving their original web-slinger a break and letting the new one adapt to the new workload.
The younger web-slinger was currently sitting in his mentor’s garage while Pete made some adjustments to his web shooters. The colors of his suit were just barely visible under his hoodie. Any passerby would write it off as a colorful shirt – but Pete knew better. His suit hadn’t changed much over the last two years. Well, hadn’t changed aesthetically. He and Pete could often be found in the basement, tinkering on some new tech to improve it.
“That should do it,” Pete grinned, tossing the two small pieces of equipment back to Miles. “Increased capacity. You should get a few extra hours of use out of those now.”
“Sweet!” Miles slipped them on and webbed up to the ceiling. He flipped before landing next to Pete. “Thanks man! These feel great.”
“Need some help this weekend? I know your finals are coming up.”
“I was actually hoping MJ could take a look at my English paper before I head out for the night,” Miles grabbed his backpack and slung it over one shoulder. “It’s worth a lot and a second pair of eyes would help a lot.”
“She’ll be home in 10 minutes with pizza,” Pete grinned, reaching up to turn off the light over his workbench. “You’re welcome to stay. She won’t mind at all. Ready for the tests?”
They headed up the stairs as Miles told him about his classes. Music theory was a breeze – easily his favorite. Science was a close second, thanks to all his time with Pete. He didn’t seem stressed about finals at all.
“And after breaking up that gang war last week – things have been fairly chill,” Miles said as they plopped down on the couch. “I’m sure somebody will stir up some trouble soon, but thankfully the city seems to be taking a break. How’s the foundation? You had a presentation earlier today?”
And it had been spectacular, Pete told Miles. He’d been slowly developing a partnership with Reed Richards over the last couple of months. The man was a genius and had shown an interest in some of Peter’s work on prosthetics. He’d presented a newer, safer, version of the arm he and Doc Oc had been working on. He’d had to change a lot, to avoid any copyright issues – but he’d managed to come up with something strong. And Reed Richards wanted to help him keep the work going.
“He’s thinking of helping fund it,” Pete smiled.
“Don’t they have powers too?” Miles suddenly remembered.
“Yep. And they know about me. We crossed paths once or twice before you came along.”
MJ pushed through the door then, pizza boxes in one hand and her bag of equipment in the other. Both men jumped up to help, but Miles was closer. He took the boxes with a smile and a hello, while Pete stepped up to place a quick kiss on her lips.
“Thanks for picking up dinner,” he smiled.
“Glad I got extra,” she grinned up at Miles. “How’d the tech upgrade go? And your presentation?”
Miles showed off his new web shooters with a smile and praised Pete’s idea for the added fluid. Pete filled MJ in on the progress with Reed while grabbing plates for their dinner. MJ grabbed a few water bottles and then they were all sitting around the table catching up.
Then the alerts started coming in. First it was a text to MJ’s phone. The color drained from her face when she read it.
“MJ?” Pete put a hand on her arm.
Then it was Miles’ phone. A text from his mom.
“An explosion at the RAFT?” he read aloud, looking up at MJ.
Then finally the news alert hit Pete’s phone. And he just stared.
Breaking News: Prison break at the RAFT. Otto Octavius among those believed to have escaped.
No. No no no.
“Pete?” Miles looked over to him, the worry clear on his face.
“It was some sort of weird grenade,” MJ added quietly. “My source in the prison works the security room. He says he only caught a glimpse of it on camera – but he says he’d never seen a grenade like that before. No details on where it came from.”
Pete was still staring at his phone. MJ was furiously tapping away at her phone, reaching out to anybody who might have any information.
“Mom says she’s hearing at least a dozen people got out. Otto included.”
“He … he knows,” Pete finally said, his voice almost hoarse. “He knows I’m Spider-Man.”
“You think he told anybody?” Miles asked.
“I want to say no,” Pete sighed, running a hand nervously through his hair. “But I also … I don’t know what being in there has done to him.”
“You guys need to get out there,” MJ finally said. “I can hold down the fort here – track down some leads. But … I think New York City is gonna need both of you on this.”
“I’m going to check in with mom – see what she knows,” Miles jumped to his feet, shedding his hoodie and pulling his mask from his jeans. “Pete – let me know when you’re ready? We’ll meet up in the city.”
Pete nodded and Miles was bolting for the door – his jeans falling to the floor before he reached the front door. MJ would have laughed at the sight of him nearly falling if their world wasn’t starting to crack around them. Once Miles was out the door and swinging through the neighborhood, MJ turned to face Pete.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“No,” Pete managed a sad smile. “But I’ll make it work. I … I don’t like leaving you here if he knows who I am.” Images of her sitting across from Harry with those inky black tentacles flashed in his mind.
He knew how strong she was. He knew she could easily handle herself. But that fear of losing another person he loved … it never went away. She must’ve seen the warring emotions in his eyes because she slid out of her chair and gently sat in his lap, pulling his eyes up to meet hers. His hands went to her hips on instinct, his grip tight. Afraid to lose her.
“We will get through this,” she said calmly, placing a kiss on his forehead. “We have saved the world twice already in the last few years. What’s one more time?”
“I don’t deserve you,” Pete said softly. Then his hands were in her hair, and he was kissing her with everything he had. She gave it right back, like she was giving him some of her strength. It was only when they were running out of breath that he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers.
“Go get ‘em Tiger,” she breathed, a grin on her face.