The Spectacular Peter Stark

______________________________
Bruce followed up their ride home with an hour of meditation. When he emerged from his room, Peter greeted him with a cup of tea.
“Feeling better?”
“Feeling adequate.” Bruce took the mug.
“So the school seems...nice. On Monday--”
Bruce raised a hand. “Oh I’m sorry. Did you not notice Harry Osborn goes to your school? As in son of Norman Osborn, the man who kidnapped you? And hey, let’s not forget, the owner of that building you snuck into a few days ago.”
“Uncle Bruce, that was just a random accident.”
“You really think so?” He laughed, and Peter knew the earlier calm was just a facade. “A stunt like that is no accident. I don’t even know why they enrolled you there in the first place.”
“He stopped showing up.” At Bruce’s sour expression, Peter explained “I dug around. He doesn’t really ‘do’ school. He’s going to be shipped off to boarding school any day now.”
“Yeah? Well unless ‘any day’ is tomorrow, I doubt you’ll be heading back.”
However, with almost every New York based Avenger off battling their nemesi, Peter was free to begin classes. For his first day Natasha accompanied him on the drive to St. Margaret's of Midtown, aware of the threat of Osborn and any other potential danger to her Petya.
Their limo was one of a few that pulled up to the prestigious school, making Peter feel a little more normal. Natasha stepped out first, surveying the area before opening the door for Peter. The only enforced part of the school uniform was wearing the school emblem on any piece of their ‘business casual’ attire.
Peter opted for the school’s tie, dress shirt, black vest and jeans for the first day, and bright red converse--brand new for the occasion.
He stopped Natasha at the door. “I can find my way, Aunt Nat. Trust me.”
Natasha gave the area another look. She patted his shoulder lightly, the closest thing to being affectionate that she could muster in public. “Have a good day.”
He smiled. “You too.”
He waved to the limo. “Bye Hap!”
Happy gave him a nod and adjusted his sunglasses.
Peter disappeared into the school building. The noise and light messed with his senses--the tower was much quieter, but he shook it off. He was living in the busiest city on the planet, so he would have to get used to it.
St. Margaret’s classrooms looked more like the meeting and boardrooms of office buildings. While there was a bit of variety with the furnishing and color, most of the rooms featured one long table, swivel chairs and a minimalist feel.
This definitely wasn’t Bayside high.
The staff’s approaches to teaching reminded him of the arguments Tony and Steve had about moving to Brooklyn Heights. There was an emphasis on expression, a lack of reinforcement, and to Peter’s horror, a guarantee to move onto the next year regardless of his grades.
By his fifth session (the word period had been ruled too ‘restrictive’ for the sensitive students) he went to the library. Books were something he could understand.
The library was a lovely collection of books. It didn’t hold a candle to the one at Professor Xavier’s school, but it was good enough. He walked up and down the rows of books, looking for a nice corner to sit in. After finding a teen couple getting hot and heavy in the periodicals, he decided it was best to be back out in the open.
Several tables, chairs and beanbags were set up for study. At one of the tables, he saw a familiar face. It was the blonde girl from his orientation at OSCORP. He had kept her card from their first encounter, but never called her. After years of seeing civilian reactions to the sorts of messes his nuclear family got into, he knew it was better not to entangle too many people, because there was no telling what affects it could have on their lives.
She hadn’t noticed him yet, and had a set of books open around her and a sketchbook before her. In her hands were a set of drumsticks which she used to drum on the books lightly. With his tuned up hearing he could hear her music perfectly.
“You gotta face it--gotta face it tiger… It’s your last shot*...”
She stopped and looked up.
He stood in front of her. “Oh uh…” He wasn’t sure why words were failing him at the moment, but he did his best to act normal. He offered his hand. “Hi, Peter Stark. Uh, I mean, I'm Peter Stark.”
Gwen yanked out her earbuds. She shook his hand reluctantly. “Um hey. Wow.” She tried to halt her laughter by biting her lip. “That's quite a grip you got there.”
He took his hand back, worried.
She didn’t seem to notice, instead pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think anyone has tried to shake my hand in years.”
“So that’s...weird?” Peter asked.
“Pssh, no no..it's totally cool.” She waved her hands, making the sleeves of her green hoodie slide back.
“I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy.”
“We haven't met.” Peter lied.
“No, we--” She suddenly stood up, brandishing her book. “Don’t move!”
She swung her book at him. Peter dodged.
“What the--”
“There's a spider!” Gwen lowered her book as Peter plucked the offending creature from his shoulder.
“You mean this?”
“Yes, the--” The tension drained from her. “Robot spider. Your robot spider. Right. I’m an idiot.”
“No, no!” He pressed a grove in Spidey’s back, causing it to fold down into a hexagon, and then pressed it again. Spidey crawled up Peter’s arm. “This is uh, Spidey. He’s like, my computer slash phone slash companion uh...thing?”
“You’re... Tony Stark’s kid.”
“Guilty.”
“Right. Well, sorry for almost breaking that.”
Peter shrugged. “It happens. Dad says it's anyone's first nature to attack a spider, but I'm hoping to change that with him.”
Gwen crossed her arms. “You're gonna have to keep working on that. Maybe make it cute or something.”
Peter frowned as the small android climbed up the side of his face. “He is cute.At least I think so.” He retrieved the spider from his hair. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
Gwen shrugged and plopped into her chair. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks.”
He sat down slowly and looked at the open books and papers in front of her. “What are you working on here?”
Gwen’s hands hovered over her drumsticks for a moment. “I’m trying to get into this mentorship thing with Oscorp...You have to give them your ‘plan for tomorrow’, something to make the city better. So mine is--”
“A power plant that relies on the summer sun and the winter wind. Amazing!”
Gwen looked at her gathered notes. “You picked up on that pretty quick.”
Peter leaned over her work. “It looks like you’re going to funnel the wind--similar to Gehry’s tower downtown--Simply spectacular. If you could work this out, it would be far superior to the one we have now.”
While Peter was busy marveling the proposed plans he had not noticed how close he had come to Gwen. Their foreheads were almost touching, and she scooted back slightly.
He looked up. “O-Oh…”, and returned to his seat. “Sorry.”
Gwen shrugged. “No, no. It’s--okay.”
Peter cleared his throat. “Uh, are you sure you want to pass these on to OSCORP? My Dad’s been into renewable energy for about a decade, and--”
“I’d like to pave my own way, thanks.” She waved her drumstick. “I have this thing about receiving help. Sorry.”
Peter rubbed the back of neck. “Oh. O-kay.”
They were both silent.

Peter looked down at the plans, and then at Gwen’s sticks. “So you play the drums?”
“Yeah.” She nodded.
“Like, as a hobby or?”
“I'm in a band.”
“Yeah?” He looked up at her. “That’s really cool!”
“Yeah.” Gwen tapped the books lightly. “It's just angry girl band stuff. Totally underground like,no one’s ever heard of us.”
“What’s it called?”
“The Mary Janes.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “You mean like--”
“Not Pot. No. We’re not stoners or something.” Gwen’s quick defense made Peter wonder how many times she had said that before. “Our singer--vocalist-- is named Mary Jane.”
“Ohh….”
Gwen squinted at him. “You know, I keep thinking you look sort of familiar.”
Peter opened and closed his mouth. “...”
Gwen tapped the book a little harder. “I’ve probably seen you on TV or something.”
Peter tried to be nonchalant. “Oh yeah. TV.” He tried to prop his head on his hand but missed and sat up straight. “Yeah, that's...That's probably it.”
Gwen spun one of the sticks around. “Well, we already have my background story. What about you?”
Peter held Spidey in his hands. “Not much to say that the tabloids haven’t covered. Adopted, living in Avengers tower, you know.”
“Pfft. No, I don’t know.” Gwen shook her head. “I’m not as tuned in as the average stalker. To be honest, the Avengers are like the bane of my Dad’s existence, and that goes for the metahumans, and the mutants too.”
Peter was horrified. “Really? You don’t...hate enhanced individuals, do you?” He had seen protests on the news and seen the the occasional rant on the internet but--
“No, its nothing like that.” Gwen put her sticks down. “Dad’s a cop.” She explained. “He has a thing about people operating outside the law.”
Peter heard a cracking noise, and realized he’d been gripping the table a little too hard. The mood was turning sour.
Before Peter could attempt resuscitating the conversation, Spidey crawled up his face and clung to ear. “Oh, wait. Sorry, I have a call.” He stood and smiled. “It was uh, nice chatting with you.”
Gwen nodded, waving him off. “Yeah, sure.”
Peter found himself a quiet corner. He turned the knob on his watch. “Connect. It’s Peter.”
“Bored yet?”
“Dad! Hi! What’s that noise? Are you flying?”
“Yep. Testing some stuff out. Ready to return to the tower?”
“Pops didn’t raise a quitter. I’m beginning to think you picked this one just to throw it in my face.”
“Nope. It’s the best. Definitely.”
“I don’t concede. It takes more than automatic credits and mood crystals to break me. Where are you headed?”
“....”
“Dad?”
“Something’s up. We’ll talk later.”
Peter looked at his watch for a moment.
“That was...brief.” ‘I hope he’s alright. Sounds like something needs his attention. Hopefully not something hostile.”
_____________________
The school bell freed Peter from his educational(?) prison. To his surprise Happy wasn’t waiting among the other drivers to take him home, but Johnny was there with the Maserati. He leaned against it, clad in a leather jacket, jeans and chucks. He looked over his shades at passerby. Johnny’s eyes fell on Peter as he walked down the steps.
“What are you doing here?” Peter blureted out before correcting himself. “No, not that you can't be here,no...It's not like I can, I just--Can I start over?”
“Shhh.” Johnny sighed. “I just came to see my favorite dork.” He enunciated with a playful punch to Peter’s shoulder.
Peter didn’t stagger as he would before, but rubbed the spot out of habit. “Johnny, I'm sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have--”
“What’s past has passed.” He slung an arm around Peter. “We have more important things to talk about, like hot teachers and Reed’s butt.”
Peter gave Johnny a look as he let him guide him to the car. “For the last time Johnny, I have no interest in him or his...butt.”
“There was a pause there.”
Peter rubbed his temples and Johnny laughed as they got in the car.
“Anyway, I'm really glad to see you. There's something I gotta show the you. But we can’t go to the tower.”
Johnny shrugged. “As long as it's not more alien goo, I'm down. Where to?”
“Forest Hills.”
During the drive they discussed current events; the anti-mutant protests, Reed’s pending nuptials, and Peter’s first day of school.
“Did you make any new friends?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. But give me time. It’s only day one after all.”

Peter kept mum about of his real reason for going to Queens until they reached his old home. They parked across the street and headed over. Looking at the house still gave Peter mixed feelings but like his last visit, he set his emotions aside for the task at hand. He took Johnny took the weed covered backyard. There sat the car that Uncle Ben had swore for years he would fix. It was a old, bulbous Ford, more metal than anything. ‘A real fine hunk of junk’ as his Aunt May used to say.
Johnny scratched his head and looked around. “You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you? Or did you--”
Peter stood in front of the old car.“Promise you won’t tell?”
Johnny looked over his shades.“I won't tell that you keep a--”
Peter grabbed the back of the car.
Johnny leaned to the side to get a better look. “Cat or a dog or--”
Peter lifted the car over his head.
“HOLY SHIT!”
Peter stifled a smile. He set the car down gently.
“What happened to you!?” Johnny looked him over. “You found some super serum or something!? Are you a mutant!?”
“I may have accidentally been bitten by a radioactive carrier spider. So not a mutant, but enhanced.”
“And...no one at the tower noticed you can bench press a car?”
“Luckily for me they’re a bit busy at the moment. Pops is away, Dad’s in the lab and Aunt Nat’s hunting people down, so I should be able to hold on to this secret until Pops comes home. His degeneration has been halted and the drug cocktail they've whipped up for him is being tested as we speak. A little weapon X, Parker insight, and a touch of Asgardian magic. If anything, he'll live to be two hundred and twenty now.”
“And you’ll be the incredible dork.”
“Ha ha, your razor sharp wit never ceases to amaze me. Anyhow, it's not just super strength. I’ve got agility and better reflexes now. Sparring with Aunt Nat now requires a little bit of acting, since I don’t get hurt as easily. Super adhesive grip has gotta be my favorite though. Now I too know that feeling when you're dancing on the ceiling.”
“Lionel Richie eat your heart out.” Johnny crossed his arms. “So what’s the deal? You want to join your folks and protect the free world? Or even better, make it the Fantastic Five?”
Peter shrugged. “I do want to apply my skills, but I’m not sure if I’m cut out for the big leagues just yet. I don’t know my limits, and some practice wouldn’t hurt. I brought you here to tell you about this, but I also have some unfinished business. You’ve got more experience with crime fighting than I do.”
“I thought we were gonna spend the afternoon driving around and catching up. But this…” Johnny grinned. “Is gonna be way, way more fun.”
___________________________

“Based on my calculation the muggers will strike within the time window of 9:35 p.m. to 10:23 p.m., the point at which Rush hour traffic has thinned out.We’d be staying out late, but according to my tracer, Dad’s in Cali with Pops, so I have time.”
“I can't believe you put tracers on your parents.”
Peter shrugged. “My watch has one. It’s just a precaution. People have a habit of trying to blast my Dad out of the sky.”
They sat in Peter’s room. The kitchen still made him nervous, and Johnny was surprised he could set foot in the house at all. They would have discussed their plans in the nearby pizzeria, but discussing citizen arrests just didn’t seem like appropriate conversation for mixed company.
Johnny sighed. “Yeah, I know what that’s like. So, I do have the spandex on under here--force of habit, plus the ladies love it--but what are you wearing to your first rumble?”
“Rumble?” Peter laughed. “My bad. I didn’t realize it was 1962.”* He took a red and black hoodie, and a matching mask out of his backpack. “I have this. It's a thermal ski mask. Not as creepy as the regular ski masks. Less ‘breaking and entering’ and more Luchador.”
“Pfft. Okay, sure but if you’re going to make a career out of this, we’re going to have to work on your costume.”
Peter looked at the mask. “I guess. You're not going to be ‘the human torch’ right? If things go sour, I don’t want to link the fantastic four to this. Everyone's getting bad press these days.”
“Gotcha. We’ll keep the fiery stuff at a minimum. Let's say, projectiles only? I hear there are a few mutants around that can do that.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“As for your disguise…”
________________
“Welp, I'm bored.”
“It's only been an hour.”
They sat on a wooden bench within the train station. Rats scurried along the tracks, the air was hot, and various humming noises broke up the silence.
Peter’s face was hidden by his hood and the ski mask. The slightly baggy hoodie and black jeans hid his true physique. He knocked the toes of his red converse together a few times. Spidey was scurrying along the web gauntlet affixed to his left arm.
“You mind if I grab a few slices upstairs?” Johnny asked from behind a plastic Mickey Mouse mask.
Peter looked up at the blinking marquee. The next train wouldn't arrive for fifteen minutes. “Alright.”
“Great. Be right back.”
“....”
Left to his own thoughts, Peter searched for the Mary Janes online. By process of elimination he was able to narrow things down by song titles.
It wasn’t long until he was humming to himself. ‘You gotta face it, gotta face it tiger…’
The scratchy robotic voice echoed through the station, announcing the next train was five minutes away. It wasn’t long before a bright light appeared at the end of the tunnel. There was a screeching noise as the train pulled into the station, and Peter took a deep breath. Johnny had yet to come back.
As the doors opened in unison, Peter crouched on the ceiling. He was glad he was wearing gloves. ‘The train system is over a hundred years old, and so are the mold spores up here...yuck.’
He heard sniffling.
From the last car two figures came running out after two girls. Peter recognized the men instantly. One carried a woman’s purse under their arm. As they ran towards him, not seeing him above, Peter flexed his wrist. All it would take was some quick webbing--
The robbers were alarmed as something white shot down from the ceiling.
Before they could be contained, fire knocked them back. Johnny ran with a flat brown greasy bag of pizza under his arm.
“Made it! Made it!” Johnny glanced at the two young women as they ran past. “Ladies, where’s the fire? Oh wait, its me.”
Peter glanced from the burned webbing to Johnny. He stopped himself from saying his name out loud. “I almost had them...Hotstuff--”
With no exit in the other direction, the two thieves ran back towards the train but the door suddenly shut. As the train began to pull out of the station burglars hopped on the back, hanging by the outer rail.
Johnny eased up on the pyrotechnics while Peter chased after the train. He hopped onto the tracks and dashed after them. He aimed his web shooter, hoping to keep them in place on the back of the train. He yanked hold of one burglar--”Ah, didn’t mean to do that--”But seeing it as an opportunity yanked him away from the train and swung him onto the platform. His technique was rough, send the man headfirst towards a wooden bench.
“Crap--”
Johnny softened the blow with a quick save, and the robber was rolled over on the grimy cement. “You gotta work on your form.”
“What kinda freaks are you!?” The man hollered.
The train disappeared into the dark tunnel. “One out of two isn't bad, I guess.”
Peter pulled himself back onto the platform.
“ Don't mind us. Just your friendly neighborhood freakshow.”He retrieved the woman's purse before shooting some extra webbing to keep the man still.
“POLICE!”
From the mid-platform exit came two arms cops.
“Uh oh.” Johnny’s eyes darted to the stairway to their left. “Time to split, Freak.” He made a run for it.
Peter abandoned the purse and followed suit. They ran for three blocks, dodging several bullets.
“HEY!” Peter called back. “THAT’S DANGEROUS! YOU COULD HIT A CIVILIAN--”
“Keep it moving!” Johnny instructed. “Don't engage!”
Even after they lost ran back towards the residential area, hopping fences.
They agreed to split up for a short while, only to return to Peter's home out of their disguises. The adrenaline rush had not yet burned off for Peter. He wanted to run back out into the streets, he wanted to hunt down the other mugger, hand him over to the police and begin the hunt for a new target.
“Congratulations.” Johnny grinned. “You caught your first bad guy and avoided your first mugshot.”
They sat in the backyard on a pair of old lawn chairs amongst the weeds, eating reheated slices of pizza. Peter chewed through a mouth of cheese before speaking again.
“It’s not enough. That other guy is still out there.What if he attacks someone else?It would be my fault.”
“Uh oh.” Johnny took another bite of pizza and looked away.
“What?” Peter asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Don’t fall into that trop Peter. This is only your first run. I didn’t think I would have to give this talk considering the company you keep, but…”His trademark grin slipped. “You can’t get them all. Even with the police, the vigilantes,SHIELD, Avengers, Defenders, X-men and everyone in between, there just as many if not more bad guys running around. We fight to keep things balanced, not end things.”
“That’s pretty astute...insightful and understandable to hear from you. Just the same I feel like I should try...I’m going to try.” He looked down at his web shooters. “After a little more practice.”
“Cool. I’m here for you.” Johnny looked around the weed covered yard. “You might want to tune up your lair, though.”
“...” Peter stared at the unfinished truck. “This place was a house for the Parkers, not a lab of the Starks. I don’t want to change anything.This place is…”
“Home?”
“Yeah. Somehow after everything. The tower is just one of many places. It doesn’t matter where I live with Dad or Pops but this place is different. It feels like my family is still here. I don't want to ruin their place.”
After a moment of silence, Johnny spoke.
“What now?”
“Joint practice.” Peter let Spidey crawl up his arm. “We stepped on each other’s toes there. We need to work on our teamwork.
“Pizza before practice.”
Peter nodded.“Pizza before practice.”
______<*_*>______