The Spectacular Peter Stark

Natasha maintained the warrior pose with no effort. On the mats beside her Steve and Peter tried to imitate her.
“Extend your arms, Petya.” Natasha instructed. “Hold that knee, Cap.”
“Now I take offense to that Nat. How come he’s Petya but I’m Cap?”
“Hold your poses better, and maybe you can get a nickname too.” Natasha replied.
“Hey kids.” Tony’s voice echoed through the gym. “Daddy’s home.”
_______________________________
“Well this is an awkward situation.” Tony said, standing in the doorway to Peter’s room.
Peter wiped the sticky white substance from his goggles. “I can explain.”
“I bet. Let’s hear it.”
“There have been a lot of lawsuits and cases of police brutality lately, so I was trying to come up with something that would work as a replacement for using force and deterrent for criminal activity. My answer was this--Ow!” Peter peeled more of the substance away. “An adhesive that can be shot like a projectile from wrist bound gauntlets--It can hold suspects still--making arrests easier, and making excessive force a thing of the past. It can also replace handcuffs, which would lower wrist injuries as well. I’m working on how the gauntlets would work as well as making the solvent stretch.”
“A light substance that can hold heavy weight, kept in a compact manner. Dare I call it, spider web!? Sorry, mother nature beat you to the punch, slugger.”
Peter laughed nervously. “You know me and spiders. It always comes back to that.”
Tony looked at the sticky mess that suspended itself from the ceiling. “Uh huh. Well keep working on it. Also…” He pulled something out of his suit and tossed it at Peter’s bed. “Keep your little spider on a leash.
After being tossed, the mechanical marvel sprang eight legs from its easily compactable body.
“Spidey!”Peter scooped up the tiny machine. “Dad, don't toss him. You know his inner workings cost like, a quarter of a million bucks!”
“They cost me a quarter of a million, you mean.”
Peter pressed a groove in the Spider’s back, causing it to fold its head and legs inward, making it resemble a chrome polygon. “Consider it a sound investment. He really works! He has like, a ton of functions now! He only went in your lab to check for firmware updates, I think.”
“To spy on me, you mean.”
“Whaaat? Nah.”
“Don’t you have to get ready soon? Wouldn’t want to keep Richards waiting.”
Peter paled. “What!? Jarvis! What time is it?”
“He’s busy. Almost 2.” Tony looked his watch. “Why don't you ever look at your watch?”
“Because I keep forgetting to set it.”
“But you wear it everyday.”
“Yeah, but I don’t need it if Jarvis is always there.”
Tony rubbed his temples. “I don’t remember raising you to be so lazy.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. I raised you actually, remember? So don’t sass me young man. Now go drink your protein shake, come down from the lab for dinner, and remember you have a flight to Dubai in the morning.” He paused. “Wait, he's busy? Why is Jarvis busy?”
______________________
“Okay Johnny, as soon as I'm done with my ‘alien goo’ we can, as you so eloquently put it, cruise for chicks.”
Johnny Storm hugged Peter from behind, as he studied the sample under a microscope. “Oh Pete, do you know why you’re my bestest friend?”
“Because I'm the only person around your age you see on a regular basis, and I let you drive my Maserati?”
“Well, that and you understand what makes me tick. The Maserati is just a bonus really.”
“It's a good thing I have you to drive it, Johnny. It's a slick ride, but you can't really do anything with it in a garage.”
Peter had began working in the lab of Reed Richards himself as an assistant for a few months now. Tony arranged the job via his connections as he knew Peter idolized the man, and it got him away from the tower. In Peter’s opinion, getting to work with the doctor was far more fantastic than his last birthday gift, a car that by New York State law, he couldn’t even drive.
Current he was studying a mysterious mass that had been found at a asteroid crash site upstate. However, Johnny Storm, soon to be brother in-law of Peter's employer and probably his best friend, was making that hard for him.
Johnny was a daredevil--not to be confused with a certain crime fighter uptown--but a thrill seeker who currently enjoyed dragging Pete along on his escapades.
Dr. Richards poked his head into the room. “How is it going, boys?”
Johnny looked back him with a shrug, but Peter straightened up immediately.
“Oh, D-Doctor Richards! Uh, things are going great! Well, I mean not great but good, well I mean...th-the subject is still responding to the stimulation I gave it via the probe but, there haven't been any changes so...uh…” Peter looked down at the table. “It's...uh...yeah.”
Johnny sighed. “As you can see, Peter here is short-circuiting and needs a break.”
“Oh.” Reed smiled. “Well, that's understandable. Okay, I'll see you guys later.” With that he returned to his own work.
Johnny shook his head. “Well, I better tell my sister she has competition.”
Peter looked up at him, his face full of curiosity. “Competition?”
“Yeah, you dork. You have the hots for Reed or what?”
“What!?” Peter exclaimed, looking like a deer in headlights. “Wh--I'm not--that doesn't--are you out of your mind!? It's not like that at all!”
Johnny stepped away from Peter’s chair. “Pssh, yeah okay. Methinks he doth protest too much.”
“Do you even know where that line comes from?”
“Shakespeare.”
Peter blinked. “I'm impressed.”
“So was Ms.Lake, the hottest English lit teacher I ever had.”
Peter sighed. “Aaand there it is.”
“I'm still wearing her down. She’ll come around eventually.”
“Not if she wants to keep her job.”
“Don’t try to spoil my happiness, just ‘cause your crush is taken.”
“It’s not a crush! Johnny, I'm serious!”
“You’re always serious, Peter. Seriously drooling over Reed.”
“Johnny!”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah. Now come on, let's take the Mas for a spin.”
“Ugghh...Fine. But obey the speed limit a little, okay? No more mugshots. SHIELD is tired of deleting them out of the system.”
_________
Peter looked up from his dinner. “Hey, Dad?”
“Hm?” Tony’s focus was on a tablet that he held with one hand while he fed himself.
“So I’ve been thinking...I’m getting too old to just sit around here. I want to try going to school. I don’t really know anyone my age and--”
“I'm going to stop you right there. First, you have Johnny. Second, school is for poor people who need to learn a skill set and make connections, so they can get a good job, so they can get more money. You already have money. It’s a waste of time.”
Peter frowned at him. “You went to school, and you had money.”
“I went to boarding school so my Dad wouldn’t have to look at me. And it was boring. Trust me, Peter. You wanna see high school, just keep watching Saved by the Bell.”
“Cheap shot. You know how much I love Zack and the gang. But that’s not real. I want to sit in a classroom, with other people.”
“You’re not going to school.”
“But Dad--”
Tony stared him down. “Nope. Done. No school.”
__________
“You don’t have to be so harsh with him.”
Tony looked up from the pool table. “What?”
Steve stood to the side, holding his pool stick against himself. A wide streak of white hair stood out against his blonde hair, and he wore his as Tony called it, his ‘pout of justice’. “He just wants to go to school, Tony. We knew this was going to happen one day. You can’t keep him up here forever.”
“Oh yeah?” Tony back across the table, lining up his shot again. “Watch me.”
“He’s going to grow up at some point.” Steve stood firm. “It’s better that he learns more now than later. You can’t expect him to stay home the rest of his life.”
Tony was silent.
“Do you?”
Tony struck the ball and it veered left. “Damn. Missed.”
Steve crossed his arms. “Tony--”
“For the love of--What happens if he gets kidnapped? What if his entire school goes under attack because someone has a score to settle with one of us? What then?”
“That won’t happen. You send him off to that scientist's lab almost everyday and he always comes back fine, doesn't he?”
“That's because he has two SHIELD operatives tailing him.”
“Then they can follow him at school too.”
Tony stood up straight again and rubbed his temples.“You’re not going to shut up about this, are you?”
“No. I’m not.”
___________
“So? Party?”
“No party.” Peter frowned. He sat in Tony’s lab, running diagnostics on the Tower’s systems. He had Johnny on the phone, through his now functional personal android companion, Spidey. Johnny’s voice came crystal clear from the small spider’s built-in speaker. “But I do have something in mind.”
“Cruise?”
“No.” Peter groaned. “Look, everyone is out of the house, so I’m getting out too. Dad has a few other places around the boroughs. I’m gonna get off the island for a little while, just for a night.”
“Yeah, I get that. Well, call me up if you want to hang out. I’m free as long as nothing ‘fantastic’ happens.”
“You hate that name, don’t you? The Fantastic Four. I think it's pretty cool.”
“Cool!? Maybe in 1965! The names they gave us are all super lame. I don’t know what I was expecting from a newspaper named after a ugly horn.”
“The Daily Bugle is kinda weird. They have an obvious favoritism thing going on.”
“Yeah, they were singing OSCORP’s praises last week. Speaking of, you’re not still snooping around their files, are you?”
“....I don’t wanna answer that.”
“Pete.”
“......”
“Well, your Dad actually told Reed to make sure I kept you in ‘the right kind of trouble’.”
“What!? What does that even mean!?”
“You know, joyrides, parties, taking the yacht out for a spin.”
Peter sighed and rubbed his temples. “Ugh, it's not like Dad doesn’t snoop around too. I just…” He leaned back in the chair. “Pops...Captain America has been doing missions left and right, and he says he’s fine, but he’s not. He’s deteriorating. I want to...have to help get him stable again, and I know Dad wants that too. That's why he’s flying around the world looking for clues. I'm not going to stop looking until I find a way to help him.”
_____________
Peter propped his head up with his palm.
“Well, this is weird.”
After making Jarvis privy to his plans, the helpful AI gave him a list of residences currently owned by Tony or affiliated with Stark Industries. There was a apartment next to central park, a brownstone in Brooklyn, a room at the Savoy, a few Hilton hotel suites...and two houses in Queens.
One of which that had previously belonged to his aunt and uncle. Something about that made Peter’s stomach twist into tiny knots. Why was Tony holding on to his home? He had to find out.
He spent the ride to Forest Hills watching video clips from Dr. Curt Connor’s theories on regeneration. Connors had been a colleague of his father’s, and member of his research team at OSCORP. From what Peter could gather, his work had entered the test phase at OSCORP, years ago. However it had not gone over as well as Ray’s human enhancement work. Mentions of his father’s progress appeared in tiny references across the OSCORP files, but for the most part his involvement with the company had been wiped clean. Peter figured SHIELD had more information on his father’s research or perhaps Tony did as well, but he doubted either source would give him access.
He exited the train station and took a deep breath. Almost everything was as he remembered it. The same sidewalks, the same people, the same...everything.
He took the scenic route to his house, passing the usual landmarks. He walked up and down blocks, straying from the way to his home before following the avenue down to Ingram street. There he found the lawns well manicured and the streets relatively quiet for mid day. It was like time had stood still. When he entered his old home, he found that to be all too true.
Time had stood still at the Parker house. Aside from the removal of the bloodstains, nothing else had moved. Some of the drawers in the kitchen were still hanging open, utensils scattered across the floor. He could still hear the screaming, the banging, the pleading…
Bile rose in his throat and he shut his eyes. He wasn’t ready. Even after several years, he couldn’t face it. He went back outside and sat on the steps.
Not once since had he stepped back into his home after moving to the tower.
He took several deep breaths and held his face in his hands. ‘I had the last few years to freak out. Now is not the time.’
“Come on Pete.” He rubbed his face. “Come on. Do it for Pops.” With another deep breath, he stood up and faced the front door again. ‘This isn’t about me right now. If I can find something in my Dad’s notes, that can help it’ll be worth it.’ He pressed the correct sequence on the number pad and entered the house again.
His time he made a beeline for the newly fixed stairs. He headed for his old room. A thin layer of dust had settled over it all, as if it had been maintained up to some point, and then abandoned.
He was curious about that, but he pushed those thoughts aside. OSCORP or SHIELD no doubt combed through the whole home looking for clues. They had probably been thorough, but how thorough? He went to his closet to check. Before going on their ‘trip’ his parents had left both Peter and a briefcase in Ben and May’s care. That briefcase had remained buried in Peter’s closet. As a child he had no idea what could be so important about a dusty bag, but now he understood. He rifled through his old clothes until he could feel the bare wooden floor beneath them, and wedged the three floorboards apart. Apparently whoever had been there before wasn’t so thorough after all.
He pulled the leather briefcase out of its hiding spot and walked over to his old bed. He shook the top sheet first and coughed as a cloud of dust rose in the air. “Genius move there, Peter. Maybe open the window first next time?” He sat down on the bed and opened the briefcase.
Aside from some subway tokens and an old calculator, he found nothing of worth.
“I guess they already got the good stuff. Wait. He rubbed the back of the briefcase. ‘Something’s poking out there…” He took Spidey out of his pocket and pressed against the arachnid. In addition to working as Peter’s hard drive, phone, and wallet, the tiny spider was equipped with a extremely fine, and incredibly tiny laser. It spilt the leather from the fabric. “Thanks pal.”
Peter turned the bag over and shook it until a small thumb drive fell in his lap. “Well that’s a little anticlimactic.” He retrieved his laptop from his backpack. While Spidey was a computer, he wasn’t willing to sick just anything into the costly little creature. The USB appeared as detected on his desktop and before clicking it, he started Tony’s decryption software. With the thumb drive now free to explore, he rifled through the storage unit with ease. The storage was only 8GB, but it could easily be called Ray’s legacy. Through it Peter found himself in both shock and awe.
It was like he was seeing his father for the first time. His theories on regeneration through forced mutation of cells, his study of the medicinal effects of various venoms, and even some of his notes from sessions of testing his serums alongside his colleagues. Connors seemed to be working on regeneration whereas his father was focused on enhancement of existing features. ‘From the look of things it was down to him and Dr. Connors, but Dad’s idea was successful...somehow.’ While the notes claimed the testing was successful, it did not say on who or what it had been tested. Like his adoptive-father, Ray was a genius in his own right, and just as protective of his work.
Peter spent what felt like an eternity hunched over his laptop until Spidey reminded him to fix his posture, after which he curled up read under his old covers.
_________________________________
“It’s still there.”
Johnny stared at his phone for a moment before pressing it to his ear. It was seven a.m.--way too early for him to have coherent thoughts. But Peter was on the phone, talking ‘science’ and not making much sense.
“Walk me through this.” Johnny put the phone on speaker and laid back down. “What is where?”
Peter sighed. “Okay. My Dad--the biological one--created a carrier spider--a working one. I deciphered its code name from his notes and cross-referenced it with OSCORP’s files--and it's still there! They have it under cryo--uh, so it's asleep. They can't use it without a Parker, it's tailor-made to fit who it infects by blood---Are you still with me Johnny?”
“Spider...blood...Superpowers.”
“Yes. So I want to go there and retrieve it to--”
“Go where?”
“OSCORP. It looks like they're keeping it uptown in the--”
“Wait. Wait. Hang on Pete. You want to go to OSCORP?”
“Yeah. I figure I can get in during their event today. They’re having a--”
“Stop. Hold on. You mean SHIELD, right? Not you.”
“No, I mean me. I already know where everything is. I’ll just--”
“No!” Johnny sat up. “Peter, we’re talking about the company responsible for your family's murders...Just--This isn’t a good idea.”
“Come on Johnny, I can do this.” Peter tried to sound like he had everything under control, and not like he hadn’t been up all night studying his father’s work, hacking OSCORP, and making fake documents.
“I...Pete.” Johnny rubbed his eyes. “You're not thinking clearly about this.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think you should--”
“You’re the last person I want to hear that from .”
He heard Johnny’s breath hitch and they were both silent. The guilt hit Peter like a ton of bricks but Johnny spoke first.“Pete--”
“I'm sorry.”
“Pete--”
He hung up.
__________________________________
After a mere three hours of sleep, Peter went ahead with his plan.
He started by going into Tony’s lab. Stark and SHIELD were buddy-buddy to the public, but that didn’t keep Tony from swiping any tech he found useful from their headquarters.
Peter was borrowing a set of nodes--coupled with software he had added to Spidey--the nodes, when placed on the wearer's face could project small holograms. Long story short, he was going to alter his appearance with a very high tech mask. “Jem and the holograms would be proud.”
After testing the technology a few times in the mirror, Peter left the tower, walked into the nearest store, and affixed the nodes in the bathroom. With them he was no longer Peter Stark--He was Stan Ditko--well, physically. With some high res images and the nodes he was able to make himself unrecognizable.
At least, he hoped so.‘It works for Aunt Natalia, anyway.’
His revelations of Ray and his surviving research happened to line up perfectly with a Open House for OSCORP’s leaders of tomorrow: a program bringing in high school students from across the city for a Fall internship.
“Showtime, Synergy.”
The line was already around the block at Nine a.m. OSCORP was expecting a huge turnout, and from a city of millions they were only taking a couple hundred hopefuls. Peter stepped onto the end of the line at the cap off point. As OSCORP had a limited number of spots, Peter got his by conning it from a sleep deprived boy. They stood next to a row of yet-to-be-open restaurants.
He jumped into line before someone else, his face half obscured by a thin hoodie under his blazer and slacks. (‘that’s what a teenager would wear, right?’)
“I’ll give 300 bucks for your spot.”
“Yeah, 300 bucks or a doorway to employment opportunities. Pass.” The teenaged boy had been standing in line for an hour, and wasn’t giving up a spot that easily.
“3,000 bucks?”
“What?”
Peter leaned in close and deactivated the nodes. “You want to ride on a yacht? ‘Cause I'll throw in a ride on my yacht.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “You’re Peter Star--”
Peter reactivated the nodes and adjusted his hoodie. “Ah, no. None of that, please. I'm going to level with you. I need to get in there, and you need…”
“You’re--”
The girl in front of them looked back for a moment and Peter adjusted his hood again. “Oh, don't mind us.”
The blonde girl shook her head. “Kind of hard to ignore a guy in a hoodie/armani suit combo trying to give away a yacht ride, but okay.”
“Do you want the 3K and the yacht?” Peter asked her, hopeful.
“No thanks.” She turned back around.
“I want the yacht!” The boy declared. “I’ll take that yacht Mr. Star--”
“Shh. Good.” Peter took out a cellphone. “You have PayPal?”
After transferring the huge sum into the guy’s account and arranging a meetup for the yacht ride, Peter waited patiently to be let in. The line grew in size and Peter rocked back and forth on his feet.
When the line finally began to move, the young woman in front of him spoke.
“I’m curious.”
Peter resisted the urge to scratch the skin around one of the nodes. “About…?”
“You.” She looked back at him. “You don’t look like you need this internship.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” Peter replied, removing his hood and looking at his reflection. They now stood a few feet away to the entrance of OSCORP. The nodes were working fine, and he was still Stan Ditko. “Best of luck to you.”
“Ditto.” She turned back around as they filed inside. As the teenagers were processed into groups of 30 with name tags, they were filed into a small auditorium. As he took a seat next to the curious blonde girl, he half-heartedly flipped through the open house materials he had been given. On the surface it looked like OSCORP was putting a bunch of young teens on the track to their future careers. But as the company was related to the death of four of his family members, he couldn’t get excited about it.
He stared blankly at the presentation, waiting for the right moment to excuse himself and go find the carrier spider.When it was time to take a tour around the first four floors, Peter found breaking away from his group to be impossible. It wasn’t until brunch was served in he finally found his ticket out.
“Wow, this uh Hawaiian punch went right through me.” He made eye contact with one of the guides. “Can you tell me where the little boy’s room is?”
“Down the hall on your left. You…” The guide raised an eyebrow, and Peter froze, praying that the nodes weren’t malfunctioning. “Has anyone told you that you look like Tobey Maguire?”
Peter let out a nervous laugh. “Ha! That’s uh, wow. No, no one ever has said that--Gee, um, well thanks--” He dashed off. ‘Way to go Peter. Totally inconspicuous. You would think some of Dad’s charm or Aunt Nat’s overall togetherness would rub off on me, but nope. He boarded an elevator and made his way to the thirteenth floor. The ride in the transparent elevator unnerved him, and the lack of sleep was starting to kick in.
While OSCORP’s main office featured an open, hive-like design, there was something suspicious about all the open transparency. Peter made his way to the door 1307, just as the files described. A keypad on the door was the only security. He let Spidey crawl down his sleeve and on to his palm to connect itself to the door.
The first attempt failed, and the door made a whining noise. Panic seized Peter but he allowed his Spider to try out another sequence. The door unlocked. He slipped into the room quickly. The room was pitch black.
“Shed some light on this, Spidey.”
His tiny companion crawled up to his shoulder a let out a concentrated beam of light. Peter could make out strands of something silver.
“No….No way.”
Spiders. Beyond a glass door stood a wall of spiders. Peter could feel cold air coming off the door. From the way Ray’s notes described things, there was only supposed to be one spider, not twenty.
‘I guess either Dad made more than he let on, or OSCORP is keeping the project alive. Either way I need to move quick.’
He let Spidey work on the glass door and it opened, but the moment he stepped inside, he noticed the yellow suit and tongs hung up the wall outside the door. ‘Wait--’
An alarm went off as the air grew warmer. As if rousing from sleep the spiders began to move. Peter jumped back as one sprang forward. He made a quick escape and closed the glass door. Spidey had worked a little too well--not only had he gotten past the door’s security locks, he had removed the spider’s safety grid as well. He felt a set of tiny legs crawling around under his shirt that didn’t belong to Spidey. The creature was too fast for him and he yelped in pain when he felt something prick his neck.“Ahhh--!”
He stepped out into the hall. His hand clamped on the small spider that had buried a tiny pair of fangs into him.
He wobbled out into the hallway and made a quick getaway to the elevator.
The alarm was still going, his neck felt hot, and he could hear someone calling to him from the hallway.
“Hey you! Stop right there!”
He took the elevator down, one hand over the spider, and the other pressed against the glass wall to keep him steady. The bite hurt, and it hurt a lot.
He made his way back to tour groups. It looked like the lunch hour was almost over. He leaned against a wall. ‘Pull yourself together, Peter. Come on. We need to get out.’
He looked across the room. Two security guards had entered the room and were questioning the guides. One of them spotted him. Their chat continued and Peter was beginning to get a weird tingle down his spine.
He started to make his escape, but two men in suits appeared.
“There you are! Did you find my wallet?”
The blonde girl from before was holding onto his arm.
“Whuh?” Was Peter’s eloquent response.
“He was looking for my wallet.” The blonde said, looking at the two men in suits. “I must have dropped it on the tour.” She patted his arm and looked up at him again. She frowned. “You don’t look so good.”
He didn’t feel too hot either.
“Are you alright, young man?” One of the guides asked.
“No.” Peter looked ahead. The men in suits were still closing in. “Gotta--Ugh…” He dashed past them.
“Hey!” “Wait!”
‘Gotta go. Gotta get out of here. Gotta…’
He shoved his way through a crowded sidewalk until he found himself at the corner, where a ‘uptown’ side train station resided.
‘Uptown...Need downtown…’
Where did he go in a situation like this? The tower? SHIELD? The hospital? He walked down the stairs. The warm air engulfed him, and the smell of garbage and urine made him nauseous. He went down to the platform.
“Spidey…” He held the small creature. “Nearest clinics and hospitals.”
As the companion rattled off nearby places, Peter tried to compose himself. He still had one hand over the now shriveled spider biting his neck. He plucked it off as gently as he could and put it in a small glass case he had brought to house the carrier specimen. ‘Doctor. SHIELD. Back up. Dad...’
“Hey!”
He heard someone at the end of the platform, just as the screeching of the approaching train began. As it pulled in he sighed and put on his hood.
The car he entered was half-full. He took a seat in the corner and looked up at the display. ‘Three stops. Clinic. SHIELD. Dad…’ He fought the urge to vomit. He felt cold, but sweat began to drip down his face. ‘Three stops...Three stops.’
___________
“This is a Queens bound, local train. The next stop is: Forest Hills-71st Avenue...Stand clear of the closing doors please.”

Peter opened his eyes again. The train rocked back and forth.
“What do you want from me?”
He blinked twice. The car was almost empty. At the other end, two men were standing over a woman in scrubs.
“Gimme your purse--”
“I don’t have any money--”
“I said gimme your--”
“Hey!” Peter yelled, more than loud enough to get their attention.
He stood, holding the pole. ‘Man, I must have slept all the way to Queens…’
One of the thugs held up a knife and shook it in Peter’s direction. “Mind your business.”
Peter sighed. “Not today.” He was still feeling hot, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. “Leave her alone.”
The second thug laughed. “Or what?”
“Boy thinks he's Batman.” The other one shook his head.
“More like Robin.” Peter shrugged. “Eh, Damian-Robin. Adopted though. Tim-Robin?”
“Man, listen to this nerd.”
The first thug broke into a run towards him.
“RUN YOUR POCKETS!”
‘What a day. Eat your heart out, Ferris Bueller.’ Peter lunged forward and kicked the man in his chest. The train came to a sudden halt and he tumbled.
The robotic voice over the loudspeaker began to apologize.
“--we’re being momentarily by the train’s dispatcher--”
The second thug began a tug of war match with the woman over her purse.
Peter rolled out of the way as his own aggressor tried to jab at him with the knife. Peter shifted his weight and kicked the man’s legs from under him. He fell like a ton of bricks.
“--we will be moving shortly. Please be patient.”
Peter then dashed towards the other man, kicking him away from the woman and through the car door. Peter wasn’t sure how, but the man went sailing through the glass, then flipped through the glass of the next door, into the next car--much to the shock of everyone involved.
The woman clutched her purse, silent.
The first thug sat on the floor.
The second continued to lay amongst large shards of glass.
The seven passengers of the next car, a family of tourists, snapped pictures.
The train began to move again.
The first thug ran in the opposite direction to another car.
The woman looked up at him. “Are you one of those mutants?”
“Uh…” Peter blinked.
The woman raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem too sure.”
The second thug began to groan.
The train pulled into the station.
Peter’s gaze remained on the whimpering would-be thief until the voice announced their arrival, and the door swung open with a triumphant “Dong Ding
”
He stepped off the train, legs wobbling.
Glass.
Blood.
Heat.
Sweat.
Spider.
Lies.
He ran.
____________

Somehow, Peter's feet carried him all the way back to his other home. His body was hot, his mind was somehow both full and blank and he could only wait for the day to be over.
____________
He woke up in the bathtub, fully clothed. His body was no longer hot, and he could finally think straight. ‘I never called SHIELD…’
He patted his pockets. From one he produced a scrap of paper. It was bright green. He recognized it from the Open house. On the back, he found a note.
‘Tell me everything. (347)555-5567 G.S.’
‘Who?’ He remembered the blonde girl.”Oh…”
He looked at his watch. ‘Twelve thirty? No way.’
“Spidey. What time is it?”
The companion crawled up his arm. “Twelve thirty, eastern daylight ti--Wait, what!?”
______
Peter stumbled out of the elevator to see Tony sitting in the kitchen.
“Dad! I-am-so-sorry-I-should-have-called--”
“Yeah, it's alright. I spoke with Johnny earlier.”
“What?”
“Yeah, you were still asleep. Anyhow, give us a heads up next time you're having a sleepover, okay champ? Steve was ready to mobilize the team.”
“Oh. I'm sorry...I won't do it again.”
“I know. I do have a few questions though.”
“Yes?”
“What did you do with 3K and a holographic facial reconstruction node set?”
“I…” His mouth felt dry and everything seemed to turn cold. He didn’t want to think about the previous day. But he was home, and presumably safe, and he knew he had to tell the truth.
“I...messed up yesterday.”
Tony looked slightly amused. “Yeah?”
“I wanted to help Pops...I was looking up some stuff and I went to OSCORP--”
Something between shock and horror crossed Tony’s face. “What?”
“I just wanted to find--”
“You’re grounded.”
Peter gaped for a moment. “Wha--”
“You're grounded.” Tony crossed his arms.
“You can’t ground me!” Tony’s sudden decision caused Peter to go off kilter. “I don’t even go anywhere--”
“No more interning with Richards--”
“Wha--But I--Dad listen--”
“No, you listen.” Tony’s voice took on an angry growl. “Of all the ridiculous things you could have done--Do you have any idea what could have happened to you!?”
“I just wanted to help--”
“How could you be so stupid!?” He snapped.
Peter could see the anger in his eyes. “Dad…”
“Go to your room.”
Peter stood still. “But, Dad--”
“NOW!”
Peter flinched. Tony never yelled. Even.when he was younger, Tony had never yelled at him like that. He quickly marched to the elevator without another plea. His face was hot and his vision was blurred from tears. He wiped them away quickly.
_______
“The only footage we could get is Peter entering the building, getting on the elevator, and leaving. Any other info is gonna have to come from the source.”
Tony knocked back another shot as he watched the surveillance camera’s video. “Thanks.” Was all he could say to Coulson before ending the call.
“Where is he now?” Clint asked, pouring himself a glass.
“Still in his room.” Tony replied.
“You seem conflicted about that decision.”
Steve stormed into the game room then, livid. “I got a message from Maria. What happened?”
“I yelled at him.” Tony said. He traced the rim of the shot glass with his finger.
Steve was quiet.
“I never had to do that before.” Tony continued.
“He’s...upstairs?” Steve asked.
Clint shrugged. “Well, that's what happens when you send kids to their rooms. Peter’s the obedient type, so he probably won't come out.”
“Never sent him to his room.” Tony drank another shot. “Never had to do that, either.”
“We should talk to him.” Steve crossed his arms.
“You should talk to him.” Clint waved his phone. “Nat says she's coming back as soon as she’s done. I suggest you make up with her little Petya.”
“He’s limping.” Tony muttered, watching the surveillance video. “Why is he holding his shoulder like that?”
Steve looked at the large monitor on the wall. It played the camera footage over and over. “He could still be hurt. I'm going up.”
“Go ahead.” Tony leaned against the pool table. “Jarvis?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Where has Peter been the last two days?”
______
Steve knocked before entering Peter’s room.
The teenager was curled up in bed, despite it being six o clock. His clothes from the previous day were on the floor. He wore a old rock band's shirt and a pair of sweats.
“Pops.”
“Pete.” Steve sat on the edge of the bed.
“Is Dad still mad at me?” His voice broke slightly, and Steve noticed the puffy redness around his eyes.
“Tony’s...adjusting. He was just scared is all.”
Peter’s eyes fell down to his bed sheets. “I'm sorry.”
“I know.”
Peter clenched and unclenched his hands.
All Tony had to do was yell and he felt paralyzed. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to talk. For all he knew he could be dying, but he couldn't get the words to come out.
‘Help me. I need help.’
“Are you okay?”
“....”
“Peter?”
Steve searched his face as if he could read Peter’s thoughts on it.
When it became apparent that he couldn’t reach Peter, he tried a different tactic. He put his hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“Come down for dinner. Then we can all talk about it, okay?”
“Okay…”