Chapter Text
Peter grumbled quietly as he read the sudden email that had popped up on his laptop: the lab had been shut down for the day after the air conditioning had broken and all investigations would be inaccurate with a different temperature. He'd already showered and eaten a rushed breakfast when the notification rang out, so Peter slumped down on the couch. But, once he'd accepted his extra day off (that he would've been happier with had he not been planning an experiment for the past week), he wandered back to his bedroom where a warm breeze was already flooding inside.
It took a few minutes before he tugged his laptop over and started reading over all of his plans. Surprisingly, Peter managed to focus for a good half an hour. Then, he closed down his device and leaned back onto his bed. Lying there, he tried to figure out what he could do with his free hours that wasn't going out and patrolling (Peter had been trying to cut down on the hours spent out at night after mixing up two different types of acid at the lab because of sleep deprivation). He finally remembered the gang. Furrowing his eyebrows, Peter sat up. His laptop was forgotten at the end of his bed; May had already headed out for an early shift at the hospital. There was nothing that he needed to actually do at home, so he could focus his attention on his extra-curricular activities.
Peter dragged his laptop back over and flipped open the screen. There, he found the CCTV footage buried in his files and pulled up the rest of the evidence he'd been slowly connecting. Matt had mentioned Frank Castle two or so weeks ago when they'd tracked down the burglar to that warehouse; Peter didn't know how comfortable he was with the man. But, he didn't want to admit that Matt was correct, no matter how much Peter looked up to him. On the other hand, there was still Bucky, Wade Wilson (whom he'd only briefly met a few times) and Jessica Jones that he could ask to reinforce him with the gang. Grabbing a pencil and a piece of paper, he noted down everyone's addresses and what they already knew about the people they would be hunting down. Peter wasn't overly optimistic about anyone's enthusiastic agreement to help, but it was worth a try to get them on board. Once his information was written up, Peter changed out of his business-casual outfit that was appropriate for working in the lab, and shoved on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Somewhere underneath his pile of blankets, Peter dug out a stretched-out jumper and tugged it over his head. Then, once he'd sorted out the mess of his curls, he laced up his boots and marched out of the apartment.
The heat he'd felt coming through the window seemed to have been multiplied once Peter was out on the streets; he rolled up the sleeves of his jumper. Bucky was his first victim of the day, so he made his way down to the trains and jumped on just before the doors shut. As Peter leaned against the pole, he suddenly realised that he'd forgotten to grab his headphones, and was forced to listen to the moaning of fellow New Yorkers for the whole journey before he was finally released.
It was interesting seeing Bucky's apartment building in daylight seeing as Peter had only ever been around at night, and more often than not, he was injured and in need of assistance. Standing on the pavement, he peered up at Bucky's open window and chewed at his lip. But he'd come this far already, so he rang the bell for the man's flat. It was a strange, strangled noise. Then, Bucky asked,
"Who's there?" Peter cleared his throat.
"Peter…Parker?"
"Oh, right. Come on up, I guess." The door clicked beside him, and Peter shoved his way inside. It was a minute later that he was standing outside Bucky's front door with his hand raised. "You can come in," he heard the man call out, and Peter grinned. Opening the door, he stepped inside and greeted the man with a smile.
"How are you?" he asked once he'd sat down on the couch Peter distinctly remembered almost bleeding out on. Bucky grunted from the kitchen. "I…um. I wanted to ask you something?"
"Yeah?"
"Matt and I…we've…well, I've been tracking this series of burglaries across Queens and I got enough evidence to find out where their base was. I mean Matt found the exact one, but-"
"C'mon, kid."
"Sorry. I just…wanted to ask if you'd reinforce us."
"What?" Bucky stared at him. "You're hiring me as muscle." Peter opened and closed his mouth before shaking his head.
"No. That's not what I meant. It's just that Matt didn't want to go in with twenty guys, all armed, without someone with us," Peter explained rapidly. "I thought it was ridiculous, but I guess it's a test."
"A test?"
"Like…I'm learning the ropes or something like that." Peter shrugged; Bucky stared at him once again. "I wasn't expecting you to say yes or anything." The man huffed quietly and said,
"I'm alright, kid. Thanks for the offer though; I'm glad to know you," he took a long breath, "vigilantes trust me enough to ask for me to back you up. And I'll keep an ear out for your guys." Peter laughed quietly.
"Thanks, man. I appreciate it; I'll let you know if I need your…detective help again." It was Bucky's turn to laugh, but he agreed quietly. "Anyway. I got some more stops to make."
"Who else?" Bucky asked as he leaned back in his armchair. Peter shrugged.
"Matt mentioned Jessica, Wade, and Frank. But went on a bit of a rant about how I shouldn't even try with Frank."
"Because of the killing?"
"Obviously." Peter rolled his eyes. "It's not like I'm overly moral; I understand Frank's motivation, and I…can agree to some extent." He ignored the man's raised eyebrows. "I'm not a child. I have literally seen the system fail so many times that…maybe brutal murder," he sighed, "is the punishment deserved."
"Wow, kid," Bucky commented. "You've really changed."
"Well…that's what happens, isn't it?" Peter's tone seemed colder than usual. "I don't understand why Matt's so adamant about my personal feelings, though. Whatever. It's nothing like Tony, if you were going to ask." Bucky laughed.
"I wasn't."
"Anyway. I'll get going, I've got to get to Manhattan next."
"Good luck with her," Bucky replied. "And I'll keep an ear out for your guys." Peter smiled, nodding at him as he stood up. "Good luck."
Back out on the streets, Peter started walking. Now that he'd mentioned Frank's shaky morals, he couldn't stop thinking about them as he walked. He wasn't fifteen anymore and obsessed with keeping everyone alive to face the courts because now that he'd matured, Peter actually understood the normalised failure of the justice system. Murder was wrong, but when it was someone who was trafficking children…Peter was much more inclined to turn his head. Matt, on the other hand, seemed to have much more of a black and white view on the matter of death. Once the heart stops, it's too much for him. But Peter could admit that he was still figuring it all out.
In the midst of his thoughts, Peter nearly walked straight past Jessica's office and had to backtrack a few steps to hurry up the stairs. He jabbed in the right number in the lift and hummed quietly as the machine churned and groaned loudly. Then the doors slid open and Peter stared down the hall at Jessica's door, reading the lettering as he walked over. He knocked carefully. From inside, he heard a loud thump and swearing before a shadow grew larger and he was suddenly looking at Jessica's pale face through a small crack in the door.
"What?" she asked, her cold tone unwavering. Peter forced a smile and tried to be as relaxed as he was around Bucky.
"I…wanted to ask you something," he replied meekly. "About…a gang."
"Is this detective work?"
"Um…kind of? It's," Peter glanced around at the closed doors, "about these robberies I was tracking, and we figured out where this guy was based but it was…way bigger than we were expecting. I think Matt's testing me with this, or something like that, but he didn't want to go in without someone else with us-"
"So, you're asking me?" Jessica blurted out.
"I'm asking everyone," Peter replied. "There were twenty guys, all armed, and all hiding underneath this warehouse." Jessica eyed him closely before she pursed her lips dramatically.
"I'll think about it."
"Yeah?"
"But only if it's a quiet night," she reasoned. "Otherwise…"
"Yeah, I get it," Peter hurriedly said. "Thank you."
"Yeah, no problem, kid." She forced out a smile and then slammed the door shut a second later. Peter stood in the hallway for a second before turning on his heel and walking back to the lift with his mind whirling slightly.
Wade was the only person on his scrawled list that he'd never met before, at least, he didn't think he had. Peter scratched the back of his neck as he pushed his way through the crowds and followed some tedious instructions some guy had left Matt a few months before. Apparently, Wade's string of safe houses weren't hard to track down; it was figuring out which one he was using which was the real test. Peter spent almost two hours (before he stopped for an early lunch) running up and down flights of stairs of swanky apartment buildings, and searching narrow alleyways for the right door, before he finally found the right flat. But it still wouldn't be that easy.
Peter's neck twitched as he knocked on the door; he frowned and glanced down the hallway to the elevator doors as they slid open but Wade Wilson didn't step out. Instead, an older woman hurried from the lift and towards her apartment with a few bags of shopping hanging from her elbows. Peter rolled his shoulders back in an attempt to relax himself, and knocked again. Then, before he could even register what was happening, someone grabbed his shoulder and slammed him against the wall.
"Who are you?" they snarled out as Peter struggled against the grip, trying to shout out for help as he did. "You're this kid, right? The one who's been asking for me." Peter shook his head rapidly, a burning in his shoulder beginning to grow. "Bullshit."
"I…I wanted to ask you something…it's from Matt." The weight lessened slightly.
"Matt…Murdock?" Peter nodded quickly. "How do you know Matt?"
"We…work together," he wheezed out. "I…who are you?" The person paused for a moment, then dug their fingers into Peter's shoulder and turned him round. Glancing up, he saw a familiar face. "You're Wade Wilson?" he blurted out before thinking. The man backed away a little, letting go.
"Why are you looking for me?" he asked forcefully, shoving his scarred hands into the pocket of his hoodie.
"I…can't say out here," Peter replied, glancing back down the hallway to the door that the woman had opened barely two minutes prior. Wade glanced over him before sighing and shoving the young man inside his apartment.
"Go on then."
"I'm Spider-man," Peter blurted out a moment later, surprising himself with how casual he seemed to be with his 'secret' identity nowadays. However, it wasn't just him who was shocked. Wade's face had shifted underneath the shadow of his hood and he struggled to form a response. Instead, he laughed, quietly at first before fully accepting the humour he saw in the situation. Through his spluttering, Wade managed to ask,
"You?" Peter rolled his eyes and nodded. "I don't believe you."
"I…I don't know how to convince you."
"Jump on the ceiling."
Wade's suggestion seemed more like a command as Peter responded without any thought and smoothed back his curls as they fell into his eyes from the movement. Then, the man was laughing even harder as he looked over the young man hanging from his ceiling like a bat. And, when Peter crossed his arms in frustration at being the subject of Wade's laughter, it only made it worse. He flipped back upright and waited impatiently for the giggling to stop.
"Are you serious?" he muttered as Wade gasped for air. "I did not come here to be laughed at. I'm serious!" he spluttered out.
"I'm sorry, I really am!" Wade didn't seem to even believe himself but Peter decided to ignore that.
"Me and Matt found this…warehouse. I'd tracked a robber to it and we went together but there were like twenty men inside, all armed and…I think Matt's testing me or something because he said that we couldn't go in without back up."
"And…I'm backup?" Wade asked. He'd finally calmed down.
"That's why I'm here," Peter added with a shrug. "I asked Jessica-"
"Jones? Jesus, her?"
"What?"
"Nothing, she's just…" he shivered dramatically with a wide grin and leaned back against the kitchen counter, "spooky."
"You've met her?"
"Of course." He grinned, ignoring Peter's confusion. "So, she said no, I presume?"
"And Bucky. Matt said you…weren't a mercenary anymore, so you'd probably help us out," the young man continued to explain, but Wade's face fell. Then, he said,
"I never stopped. Fuck, why does he think that?"
"What?"
"I've been on a break, that's all."
"Oh." Peter glanced down at the floor before he nodded once. "That's…fine. Matt's a bit more sensitive towards this stuff." Wade's face shifted.
"Really?"
"I don't know; there's a time and a place, I guess. That's not the point. Will you help or not?" Wade forced a smile before shaking his head and said,
"Afraid I'm going away in a few days. I agreed to a job in Japan."
"Sucks, you could've helped," Peter laughed out and turned away to open the door before Wade stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
He said: "Good luck with it. And if you need help with anything else, you know where to find me."
Peter was slightly surprised at how Wade had acted behind closed doors but he wasn't entirely sure as to what he had expected. Even if Matt had trusted him (granted it was for a reason that no longer applied), Peter hadn't entirely believed the man. And now, he was considering getting Wade to join their system of support across the city but that was for another day. And he was yet to have someone actually agree to help Matt and him, so he set off to the last location.
Frank Castle didn't pin him to the wall when he knocked on the door, and let Peter in without any question.
"We need some-"
"Help? Yeah, Red called yesterday to say you'd be around," Frank huffed out as he sat back down on the couch. Peter stared at him.
"What?"
"Yeah. He said something about a warehouse." The man eyed Peter as he spoke.
"There were too many people for Matt and I," Peter added softly before sighing heavily.
"Give me your phone," Frank said after a moment of heavy silence. With a frown, Peter handed it over without question and grinned as the man prodded in his phone number under a new contact. "There. Text me when you're heading out."
"Do you know where it is?"
"Of course I do."
Peter rolled his eyes and took the phone back.
"Right. Thanks," he said. "I'll see you around."
"Sure kid."
As Peter shut the door, he cursed Matt silently and imagined the smug smile that man probably had been wearing for the last few days. Damn him, he thought with a quiet laugh and tuned away to head back home.