Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter appreciated his Spidey-Sense.

It saved his life several times.

But, it was moments like these where he wished he could just flip a switch and get it to shut up.

He was sitting on a beam high up near the ceiling of the warehouse where a weapons deal was going to happen soon. Peter had spent the last 30 minutes searching the building for anything remotely suspicious and found nothing. No drugs. No weapons. No technology. Not even a random person just lurking around. The place was completely empty.

But, his Sense was screaming at him. That’s the aggravating thing about the Sense, it was never specific. It was just like he instinctively knew he was in danger, he had to figure out what/where the danger was coming from on his own. It wasn’t the beam (it was more than sturdy enough to hold him) and it wasn’t a lack of web fluid (he made sure to keep extra on him), so what was it?

The hair on the back of his neck rose, Peter leaped onto the part of the beam encased in shadows.

“Remember we get the money, give them the weapons and leave. The sooner we get this over with the better.” The man Peter mentally dubbed “Goon 1” told “Goon 2”. They were each holding two large black cases, if it wasn’t for the fact that Peter knew they were selling privately manufactured weapons he would assume they were just selling rifles.

“Yeah, yeah.” Goon 2 said, clearly not taking this seriously enough.

Good, Peter thought to himself. The less serious they were the easier it would be to follow them back to their base. Just then two more men entered the building carrying two large briefcases each. The four men talked for a bit, nothing interesting, the typical threats of what they would do to one another if the other pair screwed them over. They swapped cases and went their separate ways.

Peter followed Goon 1 and Goon 2 out of the warehouse, watching as they hopped into a black truck and sped away. It wasn’t difficult to keep up with them, it was just annoying to have to run the whole way instead of swing. But, sacrifices had to be made. Though he had yet to meet a henchman who was smart enough to realize they were being followed even if he swung to follow them.

Goon 1 and Goon 2 drove all the way to Harlem, got out and entered another warehouse.

What is it with bad people and warehouses?

Peter jumped on to the roof of the building and climbed down its side to peer into a window. It was a whole system of men and women building, testing and packaging weapons. From all the research Peter has done, it seems like they were rip[ping off Vulture and his operation.

Peter crawled around the whole building to get a head count of just how many people he’s about to be dealing with. Forty-five people on the first floor, but on the second there were another four, having a meeting. A meeting that was taking place in a soundproof room, judging by the sound and thickness of the walls. He went back to the roof to pace.

Ok, first take out the guys in the meet. There’s only four and they’re probably the most important ones to catch. Then, crawl around the building webbing up all the exits except for the window to the room where the meeting is happening. Crawl back through that window and get to work. Peter thought to himself. Easy, simply, quick, fast enough to make it back to finish that Calc packet.

He knew logically that forty-five people was a lot (even for him). But he was feeling calm and focused. More so than he had in the past few months; even his Sense hadn't stopped going off.

Peter bounced on his feet like a boxer. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

He broke the glass window and webbed the only door to leave shut. The man closest to Peter went to punch him but he saw it coming. He grabbed the man's arm and swiped the man's legs from under him, forcing him to land hard on his back allowing for Peter to web him to the floor. The hair on the back of his neck rose and Peter turned around, shooting a web to jam the gun that was about to shoot him. He was quick to web the would-be shooter to the wall.

He looked at the last two standing, a woman and a man. The woman rushed forward, pulling a knife out of her boot, going in to stab Peter. He jumped to the side, grabbed her outstretched wrist and the back of her neck and slammed her into the wall. As he webbed her to the wall, the man jumped on him and put him into a guillotine choke and tried to drag him to the floor. Peter reached over and grabbed the man's jacket and used it to throw the man over his shoulder and through the table the group had been sitting at. Webbing the last one to the floor, Not too shabby if I do say so myself, Peter thought.

He crawled out the window and started webbing up all windows, doors and anything that could be a possible exit. He walked down the building to the ground and took a couple steps back to look at his work and re-fuel his web shooters. His Sense went off and he immediately looked up at the roof. There were four figures on the top of the building.

Peter sighed, shaking his head, “Why can’t I have one simple night?” Flinging himself to the roof, landing in a low crouch, one hand on the ground.

“Get out of here Spider-Man,” a gravelly voice says immediately dismissing him.

“I put too much work into finding and catching these guys to leave, just cause you tell me to.” Peter tells the man taking in the skull on the center of his chest. He had never been close enough to see the the specks of paint around the symbol.

He responds with the click of him loading his rifle. Beside him Jessica Jones is lounging on the ground drinking from a flask. “Put the whiskey away, we move the second Red gives us the cue.”

“Shut up, Frank.”

“Will you both be quiet?” Daredevil hisses from the other side of the roof where he stands beside Luke Cage who adds, “Let him work so we can finish this.”

“Are you kidding me?” Peter asks, his offense clear in his voice. “I did not do all of this work for you guys to show up at the last minute and take over. No, absolutely not. Get the hell out of here.”

The adults finally turn to actually look at him. The sudden attention makes Peter fix his slouch. Jessica opens her mouth -probably to tell him to shut up too - but Daredevil speaks first, “How old are you?”

Oh shit.

“That’s none of your business.” Peter says slowly, resisting the urge to cross his arms.

“You’re not even out of high school yet, are you?” he asks, his tone shocked.

If all the attention wasn’t on him before it definitely was now. “I’m not taking questions from people who refuse to leave Manhattan,” Peter snaps.

“Why did you cover up all the entrances? How the hell are you supposed to get in?” Luke asks, trying to bring the focus back. Spider-Man’s age was something that could be dealt with later, these people in the building were not.

Peter looked at Luke. He had heard all about Harlem’s Hero; his enhanced strength, durability and stamina was a big point in Peter’s research when he was trying to find ways of coping with his own abilities. “I’m going to get in through a window I left open.”

“The only window open is the middle one on the second floor.” Daredevil unnecessarily pointed out to Peter.

He rolled his eyes behind his mask.

“Not exactly a problem for a wall-crawler like Spider-Boy over here.” Frank said to the group, looking impatiently at Daredevil as if he was the reason why they didn’t have an entrance instead of Peter. “Listen kid-”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Whatever. Open the door and we’ll all go down there and settle this,” Frank offered with a shrug.

It was a good idea, Peter probably could use the extra hands since they were on a time limit, only an hour and forty left before his webs began to dissolve. But the whole questioning his age and the tone of gentle parenting mixed with dismissal the group was using toward him really made him want to just abandon them on the roof.

“Or you can just go in there alone and get shot up.”

Bitch-

Peter bit back the snide remark on his tongue and just jumped off the roof; swinging around the building and into the window he opened earlier. He closed the window behind him and took out a bottle of web solvent and - ignoring the whines of the criminals who wished to be released- used it on the door, walking out of the room. He was pretty sure that he’d be done before the webs began to dissolve but he webbed the door again just to make sure that those four stayed in the room. He slinked down the staircase to the first floor, crawled up the walls and looked at the people below.

They worked in four groups of ten and one group of five, spread out across the floor, completing various tasks. Two groups building weapons, two groups testing and the group of five packaging the weapons into cargo containers.

First, the cargo group. Then, the builders. Then, the test group.

He crept until he was above the cargo containers. He flipped down, landing on the ground between two containers silently, and waited. Peter grabbed a worker as they passed by, knocked them out and webbed them to the side of the container. He did this until all five were out.

Nice.

The builders were next, they had two assembly lines going right next to each other. Peter stopped to consider how bad it would be to just go crazy, webbing everything insight, because there was no way he was going to be able to take them down one-by-one like he did with the previous group.

Then an alarm went off.

Not nice.

The main lights shut off, the emergency ones coming on a second later, coloring everything in a red light. The goons panicked and began to take up arms.

Very not nice.

He started webbing the containers with weapons closed. One of the workers saw him, she picked up a sledge hammer -what the hell do they need a sledge hammer for???- and went to hit him. He grabbed the hammer, distantly Peter felt it crush in his palm, and kicked the woman in the chest causing her and the person behind her to fall. He webbed them both, then used the handle of the hammer to knock out three others. He could tell by the gunshots and the sound of groans around him that his fellow vigilantes found some way into the warehouse.

Probably just burst through the walls, the barbarians. Peter thought as he ran towards the commotion on the far end, leaping over tables.

He took down about ten more people on the way; hitting a few of them harder than he intended too (he didn’t want to think about what state they might be in, they were down, that was enough).The Spidey-Sense continued to hum in his mind so loudly it was the only thing he could focus on. He allowed it to consume him and moved purely on instinct, dropping to the ground, quick but not quick enough as a bullet lodged itself cleanly into his side

Damn

He turned and caught a fist just before it connected to his temple. Without thinking he punched the person, hard, feeling and hearing their jaw break. He looked to the owner of the hand and saw Luke Cage looking shocked as he took a step back from the force of the hit. Peter knew he didn’t put his full strength into it, he knew that Luke was capable of handling a hit like that, but that didn’t stop the guilt from seeping into him.

The sounds of gunfire stopped suddenly and for a brief moment Peter thought that someone had finally managed to kill Frank Castle. “You sure that’s all of them, Red?”

Nope.

“They're all either knocked out, unable to move or dead.” Daredevil said, muttered something under his breath that made Frank push him. Peter began to shuffle towards and up the stairs clutching his side, he needed to get home asap.

“You two better not start arguing again.” Jessica said, walking towards two of the weapons on the floor. She picked them up and threw them at Frank who started examining them. “Call your officers,” she yelled out to Daredevil, strutting to the main doors. She pulled at them, trying to open them, she struggled for a bit before trying to kick the door down. “Spider-Kid, get over here and open the doors!”

“No!” Peter yelled from the second floor as he poured some more solvent on the door.

‘If they found a way in, they can find a way out.’ and with that thought he began to swing his way back to Queens, hoping that he wouldn’t pass out from blood loss on the way there.

Chapter Text

There was an unspoken agreement to meet back up at Matt’s apartment to discuss the shit-show that was the warehouse bust after they all got cleaned up. By the time everyone else had arrived Matt was two beers in and struggling. Not struggling with the alcohol. No, he was struggling with the fact that Spider-Man was a child.

“Want to explain to us again how the hell you could tell that Spider-Man is a kid?” Jessica asks going straight to where Matt keeps his Tequila, taking a seat on his kitchen counter.

Matt sighed, trying to find the words to explain, “There’s an inflection in teenagers' voices where I can just tell that they haven’t fully developed it yet. Something about the way it vibrates." Feeling the rooms confusion, he sighed again, muttering, "I don’t know how to explain it better than that.”

Frank's words carried from where he was grabbing a beer for himself and Luke. “The guy who’s been throwing himself off skyscrapers and jumping into burning buildings for the past three years, is a minor.” The words make Matt flinch.

“Didn’t know you’re a fan, Frank,” Jessica taunts from where she was leaned up against the cabinets.

“He stopped a train -filled with people going max speed- with his bare hands, so that it wouldn’t run over a man who was trying to commit. I’d be an idiot to not look into him after hearing that.” Frank replied and Matt just knew he was glaring at her. “Could either of you do that?” he asked, gesturing with his bottle to Jessica and Luke.

Nobody responded because they all knew the answer.

No.

“How do we find him?” Luke prompted.

There was a beat before Matt spoke. “I can listen for him. His voice is practically burned into my brain, the second I hear it I’ll know.”

“What then, Red? The kid has been doing this for three years, he tried to take down fifty people on his own, and what? You think you’re going to make him quit?”

“If he’s a kid, he needs to be stopped. If-”

Frank laughed, “Oh, I’d love to see you try. Make sure to let me know when you’re going to talk to him, I'll go with you.”

Matt continued speaking louder than before, “If I can figure out who he is, maybe we can figure out why he’s doing what he does, tell him that we’ll take care of it.”

“If the kid has been jumping in front of guns -and getting shot- to protect civilians for three years, I doubt there is anything anyone can tell him to get him to stop.”

Matt slammed his bottle down, “What do you suggest then, Frank? You want the kid to keep running around, risking his life when he can't even drink?!”

“I want you to be realistic for once!” Frank said, matching Matt’s intensity. “This is a teenager we are talking about. An enhanced teenager. As much as I’d like to say, “Oh yeah, we’ll talk to him and he’ll stop.” that’s not going to fucking happen.”

Matt could feel Frank staring at him and went to respond, “You don’t-”

“The best we can do for now is find him, figure out his family life, let his parents know. Let them chew him out, if he continues after that… then we step in.” He took a deep breath, “We aren’t the kids' parents, we have no right to get involved.”

The implication was clear and everyone went quiet for the rest of the night.

The next day Matt walked into the office with a plan and waved Karen and Foggy over to his desk.

“We need to talk,” he told them ominously as he locked the door behind him.

Karen and Foggy shared a look, once it was clear that neither of them knew what the hell he was talking about they took a seat.

Matt slumped into the chair and decided to just get it over with, “Spider-Man is a minor.”

“Excuse me?” Foggy asked.

“I met him yesterday, while working with Frank, Luke and Jessica. He got there before us, locked down the whole place, no way in no way out. He was planning on taking down fifty people on his own. Frank offered him our help; it looked like he was going to take it, then Frank wanted to be a smart ass and the kid went in on his own. Luke had to bust through a wall to get us in.” Matt put his head in his hands, “The way he spoke, it was clear he was young.”

Foggy sat mouth half open, Karen though was quick to point out, “I’ve run a couple stories on him. He does everything. From putting a dent into the crime organizations in Queens to playing basketball with elementary schoolers; the public loves him.”

“If he’s been doing this for years that means he probably started while in middle school,” Foggy mumbled to himself.

“Last night I told the others I would look for him as a civilian and get as much info as I could. From there Frank and Jessica will dig into his life and we’ll tell his parents.”

“How are you going to find him?” Foggy asked, clearly already expecting Matt to say something stupid and/or illegal.

“I was hoping-” he paused to smile as charmingly as he could in their direction “that you two would come with me to Queens this afternoon. School lets out around 2:30 to 4, we can hang around and I’ll listen for his voice.”

“Then we are going to stalk him when you hear him.” Karen added.

Matt nodded slowly, his smile straining a bit, “Ideally.”

Foggy huffed at them both, “I don’t like how easily I’ve accepted this plan. You both are terrible influences. I used to be a morally upstanding member of society and now I’m going to spend my time following a teenager,” he complained with no real bite to his words.

They spent the next few hours working on opening and closing statements for a domestic abuse case that they took on. Around 1, they caught a taxi to Queens. The drive was uncomfortable, Matt hated leaving Hells Kitchen for anything. The new smells, sounds and unfamiliar terrain made Matt want to parkour his way back home. They found a restaurant in the heart of Queens, a family owned diner, and picked at their food waiting for when the schools let out.

Matt closed his eyes, tilted his head side to side and started listening. There was a park a couple blocks down the street where kids were playing tag. An old couple was bickering as they tried to decide what they wanted for lunch. A girl was crying on the phone arguing with her mother. As overwhelming as it was, it was a nice reminder that these everyday things were why he fought.

He listened and listened until he heard him.

“Where are you dragging me to?”  he heard Spider-Man ask.

“Delmar’s. I want ice cream. And you’re coming with me,” a girl responded. When Matt focused he could hear nails scratching and pulling on a sweater.

“Do I get a choice?”

“Nope.”

“They're going to a place called “Delmar’s.” he told his friends.

Foggy quickly looked up the place and read out, “Delmar’s Deli-Grocery. It’s like a three minute walk from here.”

“We better get moving then.” Karen said, putting down enough cash to cover their meal.

They started their walk, Foggy leading Matt so that he could focus entirely on not losing the teens.

“Can you believe Mr. Brown only gave me a seventy percent on my last assignment?”

“The one you spent a whole week on?”

“Yeah!” he heard the kid shuffle closer to his friend to whisper "Do you know how much web-fluid I spent swinging around for those photos, MJ?”

“Too much.” she responded lamely.

“Way too much!”

“Stop tweaking out, it's just photography. We’ve been known that Mr. Brown is an idiot. Your photos are great. I know it, May knows it, Ned knows it, everyone knows it.”

“Everyone but the one who gives me the grade.”

“Quit pouting.”

The pair enter a building calling out, “Hi, Mr. Delmar.”

“They’re inside.” Matt said, tightening his grip on his cane.

“Good thing we’re here then.” Foggy responded, guiding him through a door.

The corner store was almost empty. Matt could hear a man behind the counter, two people above the store (if he were to guess the second floor was an apartment) and two teens debating which ice cream to get.

“Your addiction to chocolate will be your downfall.”

“You sound like a cheap fortune teller. Mr. Delmar, can I get two scoops of plain chocolate, please?” the girl asked. She sounded just as young, smelled like oranges and when she moved her jewelry clinked together quietly.

“I’m telling the truth, it’s a miracle your teeth haven’t fallen out. Vanilla for me, please?” said the boy.

If Matt wasn’t sure before that the kid was Spider-Man, there was no denying it now. He smelled vaguely of gunpowder and the distinct mix of chemicals that his webs were made of. It was faint, nobody other than Matt would have noticed. But that paired with the voice and he knew he found him. He allowed Foggy to bring him to where the sodas were kept and ignored Karen asking them which one they’d like.

Foggy and Karen picked up two sodas while Matt got water. They got in line behind the teens. “Hey friend, I just wanna let you know, if you miss another practice I’m kicking you off the team.” MJ said as she tapped a card to pay.

“Huh?!”

“You’ve missed three already, I’m being nice and giving you another chance. But if you miss another I have to kick you out, I can’t look like I’m letting you and Ned get away with everything.” Spider- Peter stepped up to pay, “Oh, I paid for you too. Have a good one Mr. Delmar!” The girl said speed-walking out of the store.

“MJ! I-” Peter groaned, throwing his head back, “Have a good one Mr. Delmar.” He smiled at the shop owner who couldn’t stop laughing at their antics as he jogged out after his friend.

The trio stepped up and Karen took advantage of the man's mood asking, “They always like that?” in an innocent amused way.

“Since they were toddlers.” he laughed, scanning their sodas. “If anything they’ve gotten worse.”

They paid and left the shop. “Do we need to keep following or do you have enough to find him?” Foggy asked.

“No, we’re good. I think I have more than enough.”

When Matt made it home he sent a message.

‘We need to meet. I found him.’

Chapter Text

Damn….

I got shot.

That is the only thought Peter had as he fell through his bedroom window, calling out “MAAAYYYYY!”

She immediately burst into his room with a duffle bag filled to the brim with medical supplies. She got to work and instead of focusing on the way she was digging into his wound, trying to find the bullet, he decided to be grateful that he wasn’t just bleeding out in an alley like an idiot.

It was moments like these when Peter was glad that he told May that he was Spider-Man.

Well…technically he didn’t tell her anything, she already knew.

“May, can we talk? On the couch?” he had asked her.

“Of course, what’s up?” she said, joining him on the couch. Specifically, asking to sit on the couch meant serious talk.

“I-” he paused, standing up to pace in front of the couch. 

The questions that kept him up at night came back to him. What if she doesn’t get it? What if she sends him away? He knew logically she would never send him away, but that didn’t help when he always saw people her age happy. Happily married. Happily starting families. Happily safe.

‘All things she could be if it wasn’t for you.’ his brain unhelpfully added. 

He aggressively shook his head, allowing himself to look at the woman who sat patiently before him, allowing him to collect his thoughts. The woman who raised him despite being only in her early twenties when she and Ben agreed to take him in. The woman who always made sure he was fed, even if it meant going hungry herself. The woman who worked herself to the bone at the hospital to provide for him. 

The woman who loved and took care of him, even though they had no blood relation.

“I’m Spider-Man.”

“Oh.”

The silence was loud. But not louder than his mind telling him he fucked up. 

He opened his mouth to take it back. To lie, to say it was a joke, anything. But he was quick to shut up when he heard May say, “Don’t tell me you thought I didn’t know that.”

He felt his jaw drop. “What do you mean you know?”

She face-palmed as if he just told her the dumbest thing she’s ever heard. “Peter…I raised you. Of course, I know your Spider-Man.”

Hindsight 20/20, it was stupid that he thought May didn’t know. May knew everything about him. His fears, his dreams, his favorite cereal.

“This healing you have is amazing, Peter,” he heard her whisper as she whipped the blood from his side and bagged the bullet she pulled out of him.

The healing factor was definitely the most useful thing to come from that spider bite. Burns, cuts, and apparently gunshot wounds could be healed in a few days max. “It’s nice, for sure.”

She went quiet, Peter pretended not to notice. 

May was not happy with that.

“This is when you're supposed to tell me how you got shot,” she narrated, staring him down as she put a layer of Vaseline and a bandage on him.

He weighed the pros and cons of lying to her. 

Pros: 

1. Not lying to May
2. Not feeling guilty
3. Her trusting him even more than she already does

Cons:

1. Telling her that he may have tipped off a bunch of vigilantes to the fact that he’s a minor.

“There was this weapons deal that was happening. I had a whole plan but… there were more people than I thought.” he winced at the fib. “I managed to handle it, but I got distracted and didn’t notice the shooter until it was too late. I came back the second that everything was done.”

It was true. She didn’t need to know that the distraction was a group of vigilantes fucking up his plan and the fact that he punched Luke Cage. 

“The Spidey-Sense didn’t warn you?” May asked, concerned.

“No, no, it did. It’s just everything was so chaotic you know,” he said, allowing his pain to come into his voice for sympathy points.

May began to run her right hand through his hair, he let her. She always did that whenever she could tell he was upset. He would come to her as a toddler, overwhelmed and crying, and she’d hold him, petting his head until he calmed down.

“You did a good job… if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here,” she whispered.

They sat like that for a while. Peter lying on the floor, head on her lap, thinking about how if any of those adults tried to interrupt his plans again, he was just going to web them up and leave them there. Consequence be damned.

The next day was normal. 

By the time he woke up the wound was already a quarter of the way healed, by the time it was done it wouldn’t even leave a scar. He got dressed and walked to school. The walk was peaceful, he took in how some little kids piled onto their bus, laughing. How some lady was speed-walking like she was on a mission. How two men in a building across the street were talking about funding for their business. 

Peter unwillingly stopped walking (the people behind him were not amused that he briefly stopped the flow of the commuters) and got out of the way of the bustle of the sidewalk to listen as the men complained about the fact that people were missing from their meeting. The Spidey-Sense was very very interested in whatever the hell those two were up to. He briefly considered finding them, but the vibe wasn't that they were dangerous just interesting. He took a step in their direction. 

His phone chimed, he glanced at it, “If you let me and Ned suffer through chem alone i'm gonna beat you up.” Leave it to MJ to threaten him before 8:30.

“Omw” he texted before stuffing his phone in his pocket. He shuffled on his feet, tuning into his Sense. He didn’t feel like it was urgent; if it was, the Sense would have compelled him to run through the middle of the street to break into their office.

But it didn’t.

He took a deep breath, turned on his heel and walked (as quickly as he could without running) to school. The bell rang as he took his seat on the stool between his friends. Ned smiled at him while MJ just raised a judgy eyebrow. They let him get away with not explaining himself. They talked about the newest Star Wars trailer, the decathlon tournament coming up and how Flash should learn to shut the hell up.

“Before I graduate I’m going to beat Flash, mark my words,” she told them casually as they settled into their usual lunch table.

Ned looked to Peter trying to figure out if she was joking or not. Peter was quick to scream with his eyes that she definitely was not.

MJ and Peter grew up together. Her dad and Ben were old friends, leading to the two being introduced to each other as little kids. They had been a pair ever since, helping each other through all the nonsense life threw their way. MJ was the person that knew him best and vice-versa. 

Hence why Peter was slightly concerned for Flashs’ health; he had seen MJ stand up to bullies since he was four and had seen how ruthless she could be. He was only slightly concerned, because Flash was an asshole and deserved to be humbled. He wasn’t going to stop her, but he did decide to keep an eye on MJ to make sure she didn’t do anything to get herself expelled.

The three of them ate lunch quickly so that they could spend the rest of their time before class playing Cool Math Games in the computer lab. Ned and Peter were fighting for their lives to beat a Fireboy and Watergirl level, while MJ was enjoying her time playing Papa's Freezeria. Lunch ended, MJ and Peter grabbed their bags telling Ned to enjoy his coding class. They made their way to AP Lang, sitting in their usual seats in the back corner. 

Peter pretended not to notice the way MJ had turned to stare at him and pulled out his computer to start his warm up. She snatched up the computer the second he put it on his desk, leaning in to whisper, “How’d it go yesterday?”

MJ was the first person he told when he realized that he had powers. He called her for an “emergency debrief” and they sat on the floor of his room, debating whether or not they should tell the adults. So when he became Spider-Man, he immediately told her. Then they told Ned as it was starting to get serious. For the past three years she and Ned had been helping him research mutants and figure out how to best use his abilities. 

He tried to only ask for their help when absolutely necessary but sometimes they would just give him a USB and it would be filled with detailed documentation of criminals, their history and where to find them.

…It was a bit terrifying.

MJ and Ned always listened to his rants about everything he had seen, heard and done on his patrols. But sometimes just talking to MJ was the best way to sort through his thoughts. Ned would give him advice, but he never wanted to rock the boat in their friendship.

MJ did not care.

“Honestly, it sucked. They realized I was there and one of them shot me.”

MJ, being the great friend she was, completely brushed past the getting shot part and asked the most important question, “Did you win?”

“Yeah, they're all in police custody and the weapons have been confiscated.”

“That doesn’t explain why you're being so weird, then.”

Peter sighed, flopping onto his desk before looking up at her and saying, “I ran into Jessica Jones, Frank Castle, Daredevil and Luke Cage.”

MJ’s eyes widened and she punched his shoulder (something she had begun doing since he told her about his increased durability). “I’m going home with you and you are going to tell me everything.”

He nodded without a word. He had expected as much. The rest of the day flew by and before he knew it he was lying on his floor staring at the ceiling as he described his night. “Everything was going as planned: they sold the weapons, I followed them to the base, I webbed up the entrances. It was perfect, MJ.” he told his friend. “But just as I’m about to go in and take them down, the sense tells me to look at the roof and boom, there they are.” He sat up and jumped on to the ceiling, crossing his legs taking a seat above MJ where she was working on her Math homework at his desk. 

He gave her a chance to say something else. When she remained quiet he continued, “Then Daredevil crossed his arms at me and asked how old I was. I lied, obviously, and told him it wasn’t his business.” He claps, “Tell me why, he tilts his head and says “You’re not even out of highschool yet, are you?” Peter tells her mimicking the man's deep, raspy voice. “I panic and tell him I'm not talking to someone who doesn’t leave Manhattan. Which was pretty funny, I’m proud of that one.”

“That was funny.” she mumbled.

“Thank you. Then Frank Castle basically says they’ll work with me then he says “Or you can just get shot up.” So I leave them there obviously - and go inside alone. I take out a group, tell me why an alarm goes off and everything goes crazy. Those adults ” -he lifted his hands to put up air quotes- “ broke into the building. Then in the middle of the mess I catch Luke Cage's punch and then I punch him. Then the fight was over and I left cause I got shot and needed May to fix me.” he rambled.

He watched as the girl below him finished the problem she was on before looking up at him, leaning back in his rolly chair, “...another point for my theory that Daredevil has enhanced senses.” is all she says before picking up her pencil again and looking at the next problem on the sheet.

“MJ!” 

She starts the new problem, “I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about, Peter. I mean, they don't really know anything, you know. They don't know your name, your face, or even know your age. All they know is that you're young, that’s not enough to find you.” Her pencil stops for a second before she adds, “Plus you weren’t lying when you said they don’t leave Manhattan. It’s the first time you’ve met any of them and you’ve been doing this for three years. Stay away from there for a bit and you probably won’t see them again. 

His Spidey-Sense went off at her words and Peter instinctively knew that it wasn’t going to be that simple. A couple hours later he was being dragged down the street after MJ slammed her hands down saying, “I need a break!”

That’s how he found himself at Delmar’s, arguing with MJ about how detrimental her consumption of chocolate would be to her health. Ever since he became Spider-Man, moments like these where he could just be Peter became less and less frequent. He began to crave them.

Maybe that’s why he ignored the Spidey-sense ringing in his ears.

Chapter Text

When Matt arrived at the address Frank had sent and noticed a rapid heartbeat, he was more than a little worried. Apparently that heartbeat came from a man who went by the name “Micro”. Micro was clearly not excited to be here. He sat on the far end of the room, surrounded by computers and Matt could hear his muffle breath, probably wearing some type of mask to hide his face.

“Let’s get started, yeah?” The man said, eyeing the way Frank was making himself at home, disassembling his handgun and beginning to clean it. “You’ve got a name for me?”

“Peter Parker, high schooler in Queens, friends with a girl named MJ.” Matt was prepared to continue when Micro began to speak.

“Found him. Peter Benjamin Parker. Race: White. Height: 5’10. Age:” he gave a low whistle “sixteen, on the younger end of sixteen. Family: Richard and Mary Parker, deceased. Was taken in by his Uncle Benjamin Parker and Aunt May Parker, Ben is also deceased.” The man muttered as he leaned into the computers to get a better look. “He lives with May now. She works twelve hour shifts in a hospital working as a nurse.”

“What’s his school life look like?” Luke asked from where he was leaning on a wall.

“Umm, he’s smart. He goes to ‘Midtown School of Science and Technology’; which is a super expensive private school. He got in on scholarship after getting a 99 cumulative grade on the entry exams. Only one other kid got the scholarship, super competitive entry…at least for those who can’t afford to buy their way in.”

“His friend?” Jessica drawled.

The clicking of Micros keyboard continued, “There is no “MJ”. But, there is a Michelle Jones-Watson that goes to his school. African-American, 5’3, sixteen but turning seventeen later this year. Uhhhhh, her father was in the air-force, her entire dad side of the family has some history of being in the military. Mom is an immigrant from the Dominican Republic, no siblings. She is the other scholarship kid, and scored a 90." He turned in his chair to look at the vigilantes.

“When does the kids' aunt get off of work?” Frank asked, whipping his hands that had been smeared black from his gun with a rag. “

7am, so nine-ish hours from now.”

Frank leaned back, “Let’s all kill some time and meet up in Queens at 6:30. We’ll wait for his aunt to get into their apartment and then go have a chat.”

A loud choking noise came from Micro, “Let me suggest that someone other than you and Daredevil go be the ones to talk to her. Respectfully, it's not exactly… thrilling to have vigilantes and mass murders ambush someone at their home.” he said, staring hard at Frank.

“If I’m not going I need you to give us something that’ll let me hear and see everything.” Micro opened his mouth to argue, “Either wire us up or I’m going in. I’m not leaving this alone.”

Micro’s chair squeaked quietly as he turned, apparently thinking it over, “I have a small camera with a mic that one of you can wear but I want it back.” he said, speaking with more strength than Matt expected him to be able to speak with.

“You’ll get it back.” Frank swore.

“...Fine.”

-------------------

The Parkers lived in one of the several apartment buildings in Queens. The area was not a good one, Matt kept veering off course to stop crimes which caused him to show up last of the group. The vigilantes were unnervingly serious. There was no banter, Jessica wasn’t drinking, Luke's leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and Frank just kept loading and unloading his handgun. The steady click-click click-click click-click was starting to drive Matt insane but he was stopped from yelling when he heard a simple conversation begin.

“Peter! You’ve gotta leave or you’ll be late”, the sound of a body hitting a wall was clear, “Don’t break through the wall to leave though. It’s not that serious.”

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. You should quit being a nurse and become a stand-up comedian, I’d support you.”

“She’s home, he’s leaving.” Matt reported, catching the attention of his fellow vigilantes. He heard the boy say goodbye before giving his aunt a short hug and barreling out the door. From there he focused on the woman. Her heartbeat was steady and her footsteps were heavy as if she were dragging herself around. “We should go in thirty minutes to give him some time to get out of range.” They waited, every second feeling like an eon, before Luke stood up saying, “Time’s up. Let’s go.” The group had decided he and Jessica would go to speak to her as they were the least intimidating out of the four, thanks to Jessica’s low(ish) profile and Luke’s reputation as a beloved hero. Jessica had the camera attached to her jacket and Matt and Frank sat around the tablet connected to it, eagerly listening to the impending conversation.

The two slipped into the building and knocked on the apartment given by Micro. “Oh, so you’re who he was warning me about. Come on in.” was what they were greeted with when the door opened.

After sharing a look they walked in, “Warned you?” Jessica asked.

“Why don’t you explain yourself first, yeah? You were the ones who came to speak to me.” May spoke as if it was a genuine offer but the implication was clear that she wasn’t going to tell them shit until they said what she was looking for.

They watched as the woman walked over to the kitchen table and sat down continuing to eat what looked like…Fruit Loops. They looked at each other again and after debating silently Luke said, “We wanted to talk about your nephew.”

She stared at them expectantly, “What about him?”

“He’s Spider-Man.”

For a long moment nobody spoke or moved, “God dammit. If this stupid thing froze, I’m going to give him hell.” Frank swore from where he and Matt sat on the roof across the road. Before he could continue to threaten the life of Micro they heard, “What does that have to do with you?”

“Excuse me?” Luke and Jessica said unanimously.

“What does that have to do with you?” May asked again. When they didn’t respond she continued, setting down her spoon, “See, here’s what I think happened/is happening and feel free to tell me I’m wrong. But from where I’m sitting it looks like you found out -somehow- that he is Spider-Man. Then went out of your way to find who knows what information and then came here to tell me that he is Spider-Man, as if I don’t already know.” “I’m going to go ahead and assume - for my sanity and your safety- that you did this out of concern. But now that you have told me, this is what’s going to happen: you are going to get rid of any and all information you have on Peter, me and anything else you have in relation to us; then you are going to leave us the hell alone.”

“You’re just going to let him keep going?” Luke asked judgmentally. “You’re okay with the messes he’s putting himself into?”

May sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, “Have you ever raised a toddler?”

The vigilantes didn’t respond.

“Or an elementary schooler or a middle schooler or a highschooler or really any child, ever? No. No, I didn't think so. So let me put this into perspective for you. I love Peter. I raised Peter. Watched him grow into the person he is now. That person has abilities no one else has. That person has a heart bigger than he knows what to do with. That person will not look away when he knows there's something he can do.”

She took a breath, “I don’t love it. In helping others he is putting himself in danger and every time he comes back hurt a part of me dies inside, but this is who he is. He will put others before him and he is too strong for me to stop him. I literally couldn’t stop him if I tried. And believe me I tried.” she gave a soulless laugh. “But really, none of this is any of your fucking business. He is my kid. Mine. Not yours, not anyone else's. And my kid has been given an impossible situation and now he is managing as best as he can. And that is all I can ask of him.”

“But what-”

“I’m not done.” May said cutting off Jessica. “That’s all I can ask of him…you though. I can tell you to stay out of his way. You have no place in this conversation. You don’t like that he’s Spider-Man? You want him to stop? Too fucking bad. If he won’t stop when I ask him to, he sure as hell isn’t going to when you tell him to. And good fucking luck trying to force him to stop, he is stubborn and strong and smart like no other and he will just embarrass you, so step away now.”

Frank slumped against the wall they were sitting on, “I fucking knew it.”

“Oh congratulations, Frank. You were right, the sixteen year old isn’t going to stop throwing himself off buildings.” Matt mocked.

“Shut the hell up you-” May interrupted him from where they were watching the scene on the tablet, “Do you have anything else you want to say?”

“How do you sleep at night?” Jessica asked, looking at the woman who was so accepting of the fact that her nephew may die at any moment.

May gave a small smile, “I don’t.”

--------------

“What now?” Micro asked.

“I don’t know about you all but I’m going to keep an eye out for him and give him my number.” Frank said, pulling out a box full of bullets and magazines from under the table he was sitting at; he began to load the magazines ignoring the groan that came from Micro.

“Please stop leaving your weapons here.”

“No.”

“Give him your number then what?” Luke prompted, sounding tired.

“Tell him to let me know if he needs anything.”

“You really do only care about kids and dogs, huh?” Jessica asked.

“Yes. Listen I have some business I have to deal with in Queens, which means that the kid will also be there. I’ll give him a burner with all of our numbers. I’ll tell him to call me if he needs anything and that he should only call you guys if there’s an emergency. Is that fair?” The group was in agreement and as Matt began to leave the building he heard Micro tell Frank, “Give him my number too. I completely understand what May was talking about, and I know you do too. He isn’t that much older than my kids and I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep knowing that I didn’t at least try.”

Chapter Text

Hello hi, i just want to formally say that all my WIP multi-chapter fics are in semi-hiatus. What that means -at least for me- is i'm going to be taking time to focus solely on storyboarding and outlining all my fics so that they are as good as i know i can make them to be. I will continue to post one-shots, work on the request yall have sent me (thank you sm for them) and my random fandom thoughts on my tumblr @letstrythisout4

i am not disappearing

Shoutout to everyone who has been reading my posts and leaving kudos (love yall)

Chapter Text

Hey…hi…there’s uh- there’s a lot of you here. 4,199 hits, 308 kudos, 117 bookmarks and 159 subscriptions.

I won’t lie to y’all that kind of terrifying. But like in a good way you know, I appreciate all of you, thank you. It means a lot that any of you have even clicked on this. That's great, thank you.

You guys don’t care about that, what you care about is the story and an update, so here it is.

No, the story is not abandoned. I’m a reader too. I know what it’s like to see an author say the story isn’t abandoned and then they disappear for months. I know I know but I promise it is not.

Now my writing ( I like to think) has improved a lot since the last time I updated so what I did with my other story is I have completely outlined the story as if I haven’t written anything and I plan to delete the current chapters and start fresh. I don’t think that’s going to happen here, a few changes just to make everything smoother and dialogue and behaviors more accurate to the characters, but overall content wise/ plot wise not much is going to change. Less deleting and more editing (And if it does I’ll make an authors note on the most recent chapter telling y’all what chapter to skim over so that we’re on the same page.)

NOW the most important question? When is an actual chapter going to come out?

😐 hopefully…. April. March I’m going to dedicate to my other story which I have outlined and basically just needs to be typed out. April I’m going to start posting chapters again.

Yeah. (I’m a student so scheduling is going to be a struggle but we’re going to make it work).

But thank you all so much for the love. I was locked out of this account so coming back to see so much activity on this story is really nice. So thank you.

See y'all later

Chapter Text

Peter doesn’t remember a lot but he remembers enough. He remembers going to the park with his family. He remembers Mary Parker throwing her head back and cackling away with Aunt May and Mrs. Watson. He remembers Uncle Ben and Mr. Watson gathering up MJ and him to tell them stories about how they grew up. Richard Parker sat to the side only speaking to defend his younger self’s actions. MJ and Peter would run around, giggling as they blew bubbles and did their best to convince their parents to let them have a sleepover.

He remembers when suddenly their afternoons in the park or at the library looking at books on astronomy became piling into one of the couple's apartments or the Watson’s condo, pretending not to notice the whispering amongst the adults. He remembers MJ and him continuing to run amok, playing hide and seek in the Watson’s kitchen instead of their favorite playground.  

Peter held a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut tight as he waited for the footsteps to pass. 

“Gotcha!” a voice cried as a little hand reached to lift up the cloth that hid him from sight. A bundle of curly hair ducked down to join him under the table, MJ with a twinkle in her eye and smug smile looked at Peter triumphantly.

 “You cheated!”

 “No, I didn’t-“

“Yes you did! Your eyes were open when you were counting!”

”Nuh uh!”

“YUH-“ Peter’s eyes went wide as MJ slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Shush, I hear…” MJ began to say as Peter noticed heavy footsteps getting closer.

”They aren’t coming here.” He said barely muffled by her hand, only to be shushed again as the steps didn’t pass but instead enter the kitchen.

“Listen Ben, I think you’re going about it wrong-”

”Really I couldn’t tell?” Ben said, knocking on the table as he passed by the fridge.

Richard doesn’t stop, “What if it does run that deep? What if you get caught up in their mess? You’ll get hurt and-” he stopped speaking suddenly. “Peter, Michelle, come out.”

MJ hit Peter with a look far meaner than any six year old should be able to give.

“We can see your iron man shoes, Peter.” Ben said exasperated.  Peter and MJ slowly emerge from the table, “Go play in Michelle's room, yeah?” Richard said, moving to nudge the two out the kitchen.

A month or two later, in the harsh cold of Queens winter, Richard and Mary would drop off Peter with May and Ben.

“We got an important business trip, baby. Real boring adult stuff so you get to stay with May and Ben for the weekend, ok?” Mary said as she fussed with his jacket.  “And bright and early Monday morning we’ll be right back here to pick you up, I promise” she swore, kissing his cheek gently. “Now, why don’t you go ahead and set up in the guest room.”

She lied.

Monday morning came and little Peter was happily eating his Fruit Loops while watching his PBS cartoons when a knock came at the door. Peter leaped off of his chair and dashed to the door only to find Officer Watson and Michelle waiting. Peter's face fell a little before brightening again, “Hi.” 

“Hey, Peter. Is Ben awake yet?”

“I’m right here, Philip.” Ben said, appearing behind Peter. “Peter, go show Michelle the new spoon you got.” 

Peter took Michelle’s hand, dragging her to the kitchen to present the new Iron Man spoon that came with his Fruit Loops. Ben waited for the two to start arguing over who’s spoon was better: Peter’s Iron Man or Michelle’s Captain America before turning his attention to his friend. His friend who was supposed to be working right now, not standing outside his door, “What’s wrong?”

Turned out Philip Watson was in fact working. He was doing his job in informing the last living relatives of Richard and Mary Parker that the couple had passed away in an unfortunate plane crash. 

An unfortunate plane crash that left no survivors.

An unfortunate plane crash that had yet to reach the news.

Ben looked his oldest friend in the face and knew why Philip was the one delivering the news. Not because he was an officer who was available to do so but rather because it was now clear that Richard had been right.

For months Richard had been trying to convince his brother and childhood friend to leave the force like he did. That the corruption ran further down than any of them had imagined. That corruption wasn’t an issue that could be fixed from the inside as they had been so naive to believe when starting this career. 

Now Ben stared at Philip, his brother in everything but blood, and watched as the man who stood up for him his entire life began to cry. Grief and shock began to find home in his stomach as he looked at his friend and distantly heard the giggling of two children. Two children, ignorant to the message that was just sent out to their family. 

Richard Parker tried his best to save his family. First by doing “the right thing” and becoming a police officer. Then by handing in his badge and begging his brothers to do the same. Richard had known something that he wasn’t supposed to. Something that made him turn away. Something that got not only him but his wife and several others killed as mere collateral. 

Of course, Peter didn’t know that then. All six year old Peter was told was that his parents had died in a plane crash and that he would be staying with May and Ben now. 

Peter didn’t understand. He didn’t understand when May and Ben sat him down on the couch and explained it to him. He didn’t understand at the funeral when Michelle refused to leave his side. He didn’t understand until months had passed and suddenly he was no longer just a spectator in his own life. He understood when he looked around his room. Not the guest room, his room. He understood when he noticed how every toy and book he had ever known was now here in May and Ben’s apartment.

Peter was thirteen when he was filled in on the rest and he was thirteen when Uncle Ben died.

Now at sixteen Peter can confidently say somewhere in the mess of all that is when he became what Ned and MJ like to call, “An Overprotective Asshole.”

A sixteen Peter could also confidently say that super strength is… something.

Incredibly valuable when fighting crime, incredibly inconvenient when doing literally anything else.

Peter was proud of how far he’s come since getting his powers, around 80% of the time he had it under control. There were mistakes here and there, for example when May tells him that two vigilantes showed up to tell her that he’s Spider-Man. Let’s say that while this conversation happened Peter was holding a glass of water and reflexively clenched his hands into fists. 

“Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” 

That would result in Peter being surrounded by broken glass and having shards embedded into his hand. 

Peter sighed, let his head fall back and listened as May rummaged through her supplies to find some tweezers. She came back in some busted flip flops and laid out a towel over the mess for him to step to safety. 

“My hero.” he huffed as he waddled over to where she was standing next to the trash can. He held out his hand and she got to work pulling out the glass from his hand. She was one her twelfth piece when Peter asked, “They didn’t hurt you did they?”

“Nope.”

“Threaten you?”

“Nah. Stay here, I'm going to grab my glasses.” 

“Did they mention anyone else?”

“No, but again they may have just decided not to.” May called back from her room. She came back and started to pick at his hand again. “I imagine if they knew more, they wouldn’t tell me after seeing how I responded to you being Spider-Man.”

“Mhm” he let her continue to clean up his hands for a few minutes before he tilted his head, “Your alarm is going off in the other room. Let me grab my jacket.”

May jolted up, “God damn it.” She ran around the house throwing random shit into her purse. “You don’t have to walk me.” She muttered.

Peter didn’t bother answering that nor the fifty variations May muttered as he jogged with her to the hospital. The second he dropped her off he texted Ned and MJ to meet him at the park near MJ’s house. 29 minutes into hanging off the monkey bars, they walked up to him.

“I love you dude but like a little more of a warning would be nice. You know my Lola likes to know when I’m going out ahead of time.” Ned said as he dropped down onto the bench beside the bars, computer in hand. 

“I know, I know. But this is important.” Peter filled them in on May’s meeting. “The fucking audacity on these people. There are criminals all over New York that they could be stopping or therapists they could be seeing but no instead they show up and fuck with my life.” Peter ranted as he paced on the monkey bars. 

Ned looked disturbed as he opened his MacBook, “If you don’t want people to notice your Spider-Man maybe stop walking all over play structures.” -Peter jumped off the bar silently- “They found May, right after you left, right after she got off work?” 

Peter nodded quickly, putting bobble heads across the globe to shame.

“That is perfect timing. Too perfect. Not only do they know you but also where you live and they know your routines.”

Peter turned towards MJ, “I blame you. You said they wouldn’t be able to find me.”

MJ yawned from where she was trying to gain momentum on the swings, “I said that under the assumption that they only had what you told them to go off of. I didn’t think they were going to go digging to find you. What’s important now is figuring out what you’re going to do in response.”

Peter huffed  and started picking at the mulch,“I need to make sure they don’t tell anyone, obviously.”

Ned hummed unconvinced, “In theory, you shouldn’t be worried about that. I mean if they went searching for you to convince you to stop, then I doubt they're going to sell your address to criminals you know. Kinda counterproductive, to do all that and then just bring the fight to you.”

“Can we all agree it’s safe to assume that if Luke and Jessica know, the other two probably do as well?” Peter asked.

“Well I mean, Daredevil was the one to clock you right. He started this whole mess so I doubt he doesn’t know. And then you said Castle seemed to believe it right? I don’t see why they wouldn’t know.” MJ said slowly as if Peter were a stupid five year old, earning herself a fist full of mulch thrown at her head.

Ned clicked his teeth at the,“ Peter stop with the mulch. What we need is to match the energy. We all have our theories about who Daredevil is, but we agreed to leave it alone cause it was the nice thing to do. Right, MJ?”

The girl shrugged while Peter and Ned shared a look, “MJ, how much digging have you done?”

She tilted her head side to side, “I don’t know. Enough to have a couple of leads.”

She had way more than just a couple of leads.

“MJ, what the fuck is this?” Peter breathed out beside a shell shocked Ned.

The trio had found their way to MJ’s condo just a few blocks away from the park to see MJ’s notes on her “couple of leads”. “It’s just a few notebooks.” 

Ned opened the notebook closest to him with the amount of added pages and notecards glued; it was thicker than a textbook. “MJ, there are at least twenty notebooks here.”, he said as he gently moved the wide cardboard box around to get a good estimate.

“Yeah and this is just Box One. Box Two is in the back of my closet with what will be half of Box Three.” MJ huffed hoping on to her bed.

Peter nodded. It was always best to nod whenever MJ was working so aggressively on something. “How can you afford- how long- what are you telling your parents?”

“Dollar tree, since you started Spider-Man-ing, and my parents don’t care, it's my money and the books are surprisingly cheap.” MJ said as if she didn’t just produce enough information to finally put Manhattan’s most notable vigilantes in jail.

Criminal records, sightings, timelines, known powers, suspected powers, allies, enemies, casualties, common fighting patterns, suspected secret identities, civilians whose prescience overlaps with vigilante work; all of it was here. “MJ…” -Peter sighed genuinely tired- “How the fuck did you get all of this?”

”You’d be shocked to find out how much of this is public information.”

Ned rubbed his forehead aggressively, “We agreed to leave it alone.”

”Technically I didn’t agree to shit, you two agreed and I just stood there.” 

Peter thumped his head against her bookcase, repeatedly.

MJ continued,  “Bitch about it later. What’s important is that I am like eighty-three percent sure I know where we can start tracking down Daredevil.”

——-

For the first time in what felt like years, Matt felt like his life was going smoothly. Not good and certainly not great, but nothing terrible was actively happening in his personal life and that was better than nothing.

Now, Matt was self-aware enough to know that because things were looking up, something was bound to happen. 

So when he heard a heartbeat coming from inside his apartment, he was mildly concerned. The heartbeat is fast , too fast to be Jones, too fast to be Luke. Matt takes a breath before stepping  inside, and pulling off his coat, “I didn’t know Spider-Man does house calls.”

“Oh, I- I thought that was the new vigilante custom, my apologies.” Peter Parker said from where he was rummaging around in Matt’s pantry. “Go ahead and call up the rest of your group.”

“It may take them a minute.”

“I have time.”

Having found what smells like the graham crackers Foggy left behind, Peter made himself at home on Matt’s couch, flipping through the channels on the small TV Karen insisted Matt needed.

Matt walks into his room and the sound of plastic packaging being ripped open makes him feel all of his thirty-six years. He liked to think that he was relatively fair to the youth; he wasn't one to get aggravated with Foggy’s cousins and nephews for just existing like other adults do. But Peter’s presence in his apartment was making his blood fucking boil.

He takes a deep breath, ‘It's fine’ he thinks to himself quickly sending off texts to the others. It doesn’t even take twenty seconds for his phone to go off, “How the fuck are you so bad that a teenager can find you, Red?” , the automated voice reads out and it takes all Matt's strength not to throw the damn phone out the window.

Twenty minutes later and everyone is in Matt's living room. Luke is quiet as he takes in just how young the kid looks in real life. Micro had provided a photo but it was a couple years dated, definitely pre-superpowers. In the photo the kid looked scrawny, pale, a mop of brown curly hair on his head and big glasses to match his equally big brown eyes. The kid on Murdock’s couch was clearly the same kid, curly hair and yes the same eyes even with the glare he was shooting Frank. But he was less scrawny, more lean and while the photo wasn’t of him standing, he was clearly much taller than he was before.

…he looks like a teenager, Luke wouldn’t even think twice if he saw him in Harlem. 

“How’d you find me?” Matt finally asks as he tries to take away the flask Jessica starts to pull from her coat.

Peter smacked his lip, “Believe it or not, Micro isn’t the only one who can find people.” Snapping another cracker in half he continued, “I was going to show up to his house to really catch your attention, but he has a family so I decided to be nice.” Peter shrugged as if he was just asked about homework and not the address of someone the authorities couldn’t even track down. 

“Share my location with anyone?” 

The kid had the nerve to shrug again. “Not yet. But if I see any of you near my aunt again, I’ll leak enough information to get all of you sent to the Raft permanently.”

Jessica didn’t even flinch- now pulling out a second flask hidden in her coat much to Matt’s disappointment- “Yeah? And what happens when they decide to throw you in there with us, Spider-Kid?”

The kid's face broke into a genuine smile, all teeth and dimples in view, “I know a guy.”

Frank doesn’t like that at all, “You trying to tell me someone with that much weight in the government knows you’re a kid and has just been sitting on that info? Someone you think you can trust?” He turns to look out to the neon billboard, “Let me tell you kid, they are just waiting to use you. They've been trying to make another Captain America since the guy went in the ice and you think they just let you exist?” 

Peter can practically feel the look Luke and Jessica share. The moment they told Ned about Peter’s ability, he immediately started working on finding all the unreleased info on what exactly happened with the two adults. It looks months to get through all the security, only to find that the scientists were so damn paranoid they didn’t even write their shit down. But even that was enough to know that the two were considered “failed experiments”, closely monitored but quiet enough to let it slide…at least unless Peter decides to point it out. 

“I would love to see them try and stop me.” 

This kid. “You been to the Smithsonian recently?”

The brat starts eating again, “Uh huh.”

“You see the Isaiah Bradley section?” 

The kid flinched. Good.

“Paint him like a good soldier, huh? War veteran turned willing lab Guinea pig. You’re smart enough to realize it's bulllshit. Bradley had one of the best records and they still tortured him for thirty years and he doesn’t even have a fraction of your ability.” 

“That’s enough.” Luke said. “You can’t keep doing this. What? Go to school all day, do your homework till it gets dark and then stay up all night roaming the streets? What happens when you get hurt?”

The kid rolled his eyes and started picking at the small tears in Matt's couch, “I have enhanced healings, at most takes me like six hours to get back up to speed. And lets just say I do quit yeah? All the people I save end up getting hurt, everyone knows all the supers are in Manhattan. I am all we've got out here, crime would spike so bad the good cops would be overrun immediately.”

”Their job is to cope with it.” Matt said clearly unamused. 

“Rich coming from you.” Peter said looking at him with the most distinct what-the-fuck look.

”I’m not a minor.”

“Yeah we can tell. Getting real slow with your punches, Daredevil, must be the old age. Also, you all are talking about me, telling me to let you handle it. What? Like how you’re handling Fisk?”

The room was silent. Two months into Fisk’s mayorship and the Anti-Vigilante Task Force was in full swing. The citizens were sick of it, everyone was expecting the vigilantes to come back ten ties harder and get those vicious cops off their streets, but it had been practically silent. Except for Queens. The Task Force were in the borough for all of two days before Spider-Man beat the shit out of them for trying to stop him from aiding in a hostage situation. All the hostages were rescued unharmed and the perpetrators were expected to spend five months in the hospital. The Task Force hasn’t stepped into Queens since and Fisk refused to speak on it.

At that point the civilians had been trying to give the vigilantes the benefit of the doubt as to why they weren’t doing anything about Fisk. But for Spider-Man, the newest of the vigilantes to handle the situation quicker than Daredevil? Harlem’s Hero? The Punisher? 

The people of New York aren’t very happy with their vigilantes right now.

“Yeah, exactly.” Peter pointed at Matt “You put him in jail; he got out.” He turned to Frank, “You’re over here judge, jury, executioner and yet when people are being wrongfully convicted and beaten in the streets by the police.” Peter looked around mockingly. “You-” he rounded on Jessica “you aren’t in the streets as much as us but you had a reputation underground. Nowadays people don’t give a fuck, they set up their trafficking rings, blatantly commit crimes and just walk around.” He turned to Luke “…your own community is turning its back on you, on all of you. And you want me to stop? Abandon the people like how you all did? That stupid warehouse was the first time you’ve even sighted in months, years, I-“ he cut himself off.

Yeah, Peter was tired. Sure, it’d be nice to go to school and come home and do homework, sleep, and repeat. But everyday there is someone screaming for help and no response unless Peter shows up, unless Spider-Man shows up. 

“I’m not arguing about this anymore, cause at the end of the day you won't do shit. You’re not going to tell anyone and you’re not going to hurt me. What you are going to do is leave my family alone.” The kid became deadly serious, “I can’t have vigilantes hanging out on the rooftops near my apartment. I can’t have you in my apartment. Can’t have you near my aunt or my friends or Delmar’s or my school or anywhere else. Stay out of Queens, keep my name out your mouths. Because if you harass my aunt or bring people to my home-“ he stopped. 

Jessica has seen a lot of hurt kids. What with work and work. This kid wasn’t all that different. Fist clench, back straight, head down, fair covering his face, voice trembling like he’s physically resisting the urge to lash out. Angry kids were easy to deal with normally, angry kids that could throw her through a wall (probably multiple walls) were not. A quick glance at Frank and Luke told her that they were on the same thought. 

The kid walked to the door, steps purposefully measured, he opened the door, “Stay away.” He walked out, closing the door with a quiet click.