Chapter Text
Peter had been home from school for no more than fifteen minutes. Just enough time to swallow a protein bar practically whole and toss his bag onto his bed. It was Friday, and the best part was, he didn’t have any homework. Nothing to read. Nothing to study. Nothing to draft or edit. His last period teacher had needed to step out for a family emergency. And the only instruction they'd left for the class was that they were to use their time wisely. For Peter that meant catching up on every single assignment he had due within the next few school days. He was free.
With a giddy smile, he rushed into the lab, knowing that’s where Tony had disappeared the moment they had gotten home. He scanned his palm, slipped through the sliding glass doors, and skidded up to where his foster father had just sat down. ‘I can go?’ he sighed while pointing toward the case that held his Spider-Suit.
Tony pursed his lips and looked Peter over with scrutiny. “It’s a little early, isn’t it? Don’t you have schoolwork to do?”
Vigorously, Peter shook his head and sighed ‘done,’ and ‘promise.’
“I trust you, Bud,” Tony smirked, clearly amused. “It’s Friday. So, I guess that means you have a choice. Is Spidey going to grab some dinner on his own or is Peter going to grace us with his presence this evening?”
Peter smiled. Being allowed to procure his own dinner during his Friday night patrols was still a relatively new option. Even since the whole social media fiasco in California had taken place, he’d had a lot less freedom as himself. It had only taken a couple of weeks of that for him to start to feel a little cooped up. From there, a compromise had been negotiated. Some of his lost independence had been returned via Spider-Man. It wasn’t much, but he was extremely happy about it. He grinned broadly and fingerspelled ‘Delmar’s’ and signed ‘please.’
Tony hummed and raised one brow. “Home by eleven?”
Frowning deeply, Peter typed into this phone. ‘ It’s the weekend!’ He had no idea where the stipulation had come from but, thankfully, it didn’t take much to get Tony to give in.
“Fine. Fine. Midnight then.” Tony sighed. “But since you're leaving so early, I’d like for you to check in every so often.”
Peter rolled his eyes. The suit was so full of trackers and biometric sensors that there wasn’t really any reason for him to need to check-in. His foster parents could figure out where he was and how he was doing with one metaphorical click of a button. Even so, he smiled and nodded in agreement.
Tony stood up and pulled his thick leather wallet out of his back pocket. He rummaged around for a few seconds and produced a couple of twenty dollar bills.“Here’s some cash for food. Stay safe and stick to that little gray area we talked about. No big time stuff, okay?”
After accepting the cash, Peter shoved it into his pocket and held up his thumb. He was perfectly fine with sticking to the ground, helping out the little guy. It meant getting to know his neighbors, being there for them when they needed a hand, and keeping down the petty crime rates. The city was safer and more inviting because of him.
“Alright, go get changed, you heathen,” Tony said, faux annoyance lacing his tone. Peter wasted no time heading for the case that contained his suit. “And FRIDAY? Make sure you scramble all the nearby video footage until the kid’s all the way out of the tower.”
“Already on it, Boss.”
Peter could hear Tony sigh from all the way across the room. ‘What’ he signed.
“Nothing, Bud. Come see me before you leap out the window, okay?”
Peter scrunched up his brow and went into the bathroom to change. He left his clothes folded up on the counter and went to find Tony right where he’d left him.
“Hey,” he whispered, announcing his presence.
Tony looked up and smiled gently. “Hey to you too. You all set?”
When Peter inclined his head, Tony reiterated all of the standard rules and got up to give him a quick side hug.
“I’ll see you at midnight, okay? Not a minute later.”
Peter hummed and nodded again. And the second Tony let go of him, he was off. The afternoon was young, and he had so many things he could do. He started at the nearby park, rescuing a kite and playing catch with a few little kids. He didn’t hang around for too long. He desperately wanted to make it all the way back to Queens and getting there wasn’t a quick jaunt. Even by web. Although, swinging well above the traffic across the Queensboro Bridge certainly saved him a huge chunk of time.
The moment he landed in the familiar borough, he made his way to Delmar’s. Tony, as usual, had given him way more cash than he needed but he supposed it worked out. It meant he could get a sandwich, a drink, and some gummy worms, with enough left over to purchase a hotdog or six later in the evening.
“Spider-Man! It’s good to see you again” Mr. Demlar happily greeted. “Number five, extra pickles, extra flat?”
Peter nodded his head, blushing below the mask. He’d not really meant to be quite so predictable. But he really liked the sandwiches there and he was super happy to support the small local business.
“I should take a picture of you holding this sandwich in front of the deli counter. I could use it for good advertising.”
Teasingly, Peter held up his hand and rubbed his thumb against two of his fingers, a fairly universal gesture for ‘money.’
Mr. Delmar barked a laugh. “Do you take sandwiches as currency?”
Peter laughed too, albeit quietly, and shook his head. He waved his hands in front of his body, then reached into the tiny pocket in the suit’s utility belt. He pulled out the two twenties and laid one of them on the counter. There was no way he was going to take free food while living with a literal billionaire. Of course, he wasn’t going to let on about that. As much as he liked Mr. Delmar, his secret identity was still a secret and he liked it that way.
Mr. Delmar shrugged and smiled as he took it to the register. “If you insist. I’m not going to turn down a good sale.”
After devouring his sandwich, Peter made his usual rounds. He walked some lost tourists to the closest metro stop, helped a really nice lady track down her escaped dog, and changed a flat tire. It didn’t seem like much at the moment. But he knew that once the sun set, the usual softness of the neighborhood would start to fray, revealing all of the rough edges. The playful games would end as the children all went inside. The typically welcoming corner stores would start to lower reinforced bars over their windows. And the shadows that held a certain charm during the day would become menacing. That’s when his real work would begin.
He made his way to the top of a water tower to watch the sky turn from fiery orange to a brooding shade of purplish gray. That particular location allotted him the opportunity to check in with his foster parents and really take in the last few moments of tranquility. The deeper the sun dipped behind the horizon, the more chaotic the space around him would become. Eventually, the street lamps flickered to life, and Peter knew that was his cue. Break time was over.
He shot a web from one building to the next, swooping low enough to get a feel for what was taking place around him. If he focused his hearing, he could make out a drug deal happening a few blocks over and a few sirens going off miles in the distance. But what his spider-sense was pulling him toward was a domestic dispute that had just spilled into the streets. A man was standing beside an open car door with a baby in his arms and a small child clinging to his legs, while a woman held a gun between her unsteady hands.
He landed nearby and watched, waiting to see what would happen. The man was pleading for the woman to put the gun down, but the woman didn’t seem inclined to listen. For a moment, Peter wondered if jumping into something of that nature would fall into the gray area he was meant to be operating within. When he heard the gun cock, his decision was made for him. He swooped in, placing himself between the man and who he assumed was the mother of the children. He could hear the father sigh in relief as he shot a web, knocking the weapon out of her hand and pinning her to the cement. She screamed and shouted some of the most profane things Peter had ever heard in his life. He looked to the man, who was swiftly loading his kids up in the car, and canted his head to the side.
“We’ll be okay now, Spider-Man,” the man assured. “I’m taking us somewhere safe while she- gets some help.”
Peter nodded and held up his fingers. ‘Nine-one-one.’
The man pulled in a quivering breath and smiled weakly. “Already called.”
Peter breathed a sigh of relief, happy to have been able to help the little family escape whatever they were going through. He held up his thumb and took off from the ground. Things were surprisingly tame after that. A few pick-pockets, a bike thief, and a handful of drunken disputes. However, none of those instances had involved much effort. He’s simply swept in, webbed up the bad guys, and had his AI contact the police. He was just starting to consider heading home for the night when his spider-senses flared so frantically beneath his skin that it caused him to shudder. He looked around for the trigger and quickly spotted three burley men backing a lanky food courier into an alleyway.
“I don’t have any money on me. I swear! People don't pay in cash anymore. It’s all done on an app.”
The biggest man, in the middle of the group, snarled. “We aren’t looking for money. We’re looking for you.” His glare turned into a sneer when the smaller man made a small terrified noise. “Your brother was a- colleague of ours. He took something that didn't belong to him, and then disappeared. We want it back.”
“I- I can’t help you. I don’t know-”
“You don’t have to know,” the biggest man snapped. “You just have to come with us.”
Leverage, Peter thought to himself and frowned. Three bad guys, all of them out in the open, He was relatively certain he could handle that. So with very little additional thought, he swung in from behind, using his momentum to knock one of the bad guys into the other two. The guy in the back is the only one to actually fall. The others simply stumble forward. That, however, caused enough of a distraction for the courier to grab his bike and go.
Peter shot web after web. The last few managed to land on one of the guy’s fists. It didn't help much. A knife was produced out of nowhere. The guy used it to cut right through the sticky fibers. Peter released a whole new round of webs. He easily caught the weapon. As he did so, his spider-sense went off in warning. Someone was looming behind him. He turned around kicking, nailing the guy’s shin hard enough to send him to the ground. Without hesitation, he webbed him up. One down. Two to go.
Another knife appeared. Followed by a gun. There was no deliberation. Peter went for the firearm first, sticking it firmly to the brick wall. The knife was his next target. But as he dived forward, the gunman got a good hit in. A punch landed right above his eye, knocking him a step back and causing his vision to swim. He recovered quickly and gained more control over the situation. The gunman was webbed within seconds, allowing his attention to turn to the last one standing. The biggest guy.
He was actually a better fighter than the others had been. Despite his large size, he was agile and lively on his feet. Peter kicked and flipped, and defended himself as best he could until he found an opening. When he did, he shot two webs to the wall and yanked himself forward, using both of his feet to kick the guy in the chest. The move didn’t work as well as he’d hoped it would. He jumped onto a fire escape, high above the big man’s head to reevaluate.
The guy was tall with broad shoulders and a thick neck. It was an odd juxtaposition to his narrow hips and relatively lean legs. He was top-heavy, Peter realized and decided he could use that to his advantage. He jumped down while simultaneously sweeping his leg under the guy’s feet. It worked. The big man’s face morphed into one of shock as he began to rapidly tilt in Peter’s direction.
Wishing to avoid a collision with the man’s large descending mass, Peter jumped back. In the process, his foot landed in a wide crack in the sidewalk. Before he could even consider adjusting his stance, his ankle turned. There was no time to catch himself as he went down on his butt, pain radiating up his leg and down to his foot. He ignored it as best he could, in favor of shooting a series of webs at the big man’s prone form.
And that was it. All three criminals were down for the count. Mostly. They were still shouting at him. And at each other. But they weren’t going anywhere. He took a moment to aggressively flip each one of them off before crawling backward. His ankle angrily protested the movement, indicating a distinct lack of adequate mobility. He couldn’t run. Not by a long shot. However, his back pressed against the cool brick wall, climbing seemed possible. He steeled himself as he turned around and began to scale to the top; using only his hands and one good leg to get there.
The very second he reached the roof, he collapsed onto his back and panted towards the sky. His ankle was throbbing with vengeance. He wondered if any of the trackers in the suit were capable of discerning the injury.
“Peter, you appear to be in need of medical attention. I’ve detected several contusions and a minor tear to your right anterior talofibular ligament.”
It didn’t feel like a minor anything. But the declaration had certainly answered his question. More than likely, Tony and Pepper would be receiving a similar report. He could already picture them completely flipping out. The worst part was, he hadn’t even managed to hurt himself in any kind of a cool or heroic manner. He’d just- clumsily twisted his ankle. And if that wasn’t embarrassing he wasn’t sure what was. He was just starting to consider if it was worth lying about when a text popped up on his HUD.
‘How bad is it?’
Peter looked down at his leg and tried to flex his foot. He barely had to move to send a shockwave of hot white pain radiating through his ankle. He grit his teeth as all hope of being able to take a quick break and independently swing home went right out the window. Defeated, he motioned for Karen to bring up his keyboard on the HUD.
‘Not bad. Just hurts.’ The message was simplistic. He hoped the underlying request to be picked up was clear enough. He really didn’t want to say it.
‘I’ll bet it does,’ Tony responded. A beat later he asked, ‘Are you somewhere safe?’
He knew Tony already had his coordinates. Although he supposed it was a fair question. Being incapacitated on the ground level would be much more dangerous than at the top. He typed out ‘Roof,’ to specify his marginally concealed position.
Tony's reply was immediate. ‘Perfect. I’ll be there in ten.’
Peter didn’t argue. He simply laid back and tried to remain as still as humanly possible. Beyond the persistent throb of his ankle, his head was starting to hurt, presumably from the hit he’d taken to the face. He reached up to touch the space where the fist had connected and hissed. It was definitely swollen and probably deeply bruised; another thing for Tony and Pepper to fret over. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the Iron Man armor approaching. Moments later there was a loud clank as the metal suit touched the ground.
“Hey, Kid.”
Peter looked up to find his foster father no longer encased in the armor and hovering above him. “Hey,” he quietly echoed.
Tony smiled and reached his hand behind Peter’s head. He nudged ever so gently and asked, “Can you sit up for me?”
Peter hummed and with assistance he started to sit up. He cried out when his leg shifted in the process.
“Okay, okay. I know, Bud,” Tony said softly. He knelt down on one knee and ran a soothing hand up and down Peter's arm. “I’m not going to try to get a look at anything here. but I am going to put a splint on it, alright?”
Warily, Peter nodded his head. Tony nodded in return and activated something in his gauntlet. When he reached for his foot, he tensed in anticipation. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen, but it wasn’t for a seamless flow of nanites to fluidly wrap themselves around his injured joint. It was just fascinating enough to distract him from his aching body. “Woah.”
Tony looked up and grinned. “You like that?” Peter nodded enthusiastically in reply. “This was just an experiment. One of these days I’m going to make a whole suit of armor out of those things.”
As he watched the nanites take form, he imagined what it would look like as a suit-up sequence. He could picture the red, silver, and gold nanites, creeping up Tony’s neck and gracefully melding together into a helmet. ‘Awesome,’ he sighed.
With a huffed laugh and grunt of effort, Tony stood up. “Super awesome. You ready to take off? It’s probably going to hurt when I pick you up,”
As much as he would have rather stayed right where he was until his healing factor decided to take over, Peter nodded his head and signed, ‘Ready,’ Tony slowly moved his hands so that they were under his knees and behind his back, and scooped him up with care. But, God, it really did hurt. Even with the stabilization, any sharp movement sent a spike of pain through the joint. He had it bite his bottom lip to prevent himself from producing any distressed noises as they flew across the sky.
Thankfully, the flight was short. Tony touched down on the landing pad and went straight to the elevator. The second they stepped out onto the medical floor, Peter spotted Pepper there waiting for them. Because of course, she was. He could see her smiling softly, but there was a tightness around her eyes and forehead that gave away the amount of concern she was attempting to conceal. He signed, ‘sorry,’ the moment they made eye contact. She shook her head and blew him a kiss, just as Tony pushed them through the swinging double doors.