Silent Noise
The silence of the swinging to wherever they’re heading is chilling to Peter. He’s used to hearing Spider-Man quip and talk the heads off of just about anyone and everyone. Heroes, Villains, civilians, politicians- normally, no one is free from the quip master. Well, aside from those few times when he was wearing the all black suit.
“Um… are you-”
“I’m so tired!” the man yells over the wind. Peter begins to notice how his swinging is slow, almost lethargic, as he continues forward.
“Really? Why?”
“Oh, just fighting villains non-stop this week. Work has been hectic as well. God, I wish I could just go back to my apartment and relax.”
“...and you can’t because the city needs Spider-Man.”
“Exactly.”
“Where are we going?”
“My friend's place. He works out of Greenwich Village. We need to run some tests, see what those webs of yours can do, etc., etc.”
“Oh. Okay…”
Falling back into silence, the pair continue to swing through the city. The wind is whistling through the air past their ears, forming a quiet barrier around them. It’s still unnerving. The silence stretching between them is piercing, almost bruising Peter’s ego as he thinks about what to do. He used his powers responsibly but failed to get results. He didn’t gain any respect, he wasn’t held accountable for failing.
Is this really okay? Can he keep going like this? This is how Spider-Man has operated in this city for years. Maybe he should just trust him. That makes sense, right? There's no reason to-
“We’re here!”
He stops mid-air as he watches Spider-Man zip onto the top of a building. He fumbles in mid-air as he tries to stop, latching onto the side of a building with a web as he slowly swings onto the side of the Octavius Industries building. Crawling up, he sees the mask of Spider-Man peering over the edge as he looks at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Where’d that natural spark go, Peter?”
“I’ve only had these powers for a day! Relax!”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on,” he replies, reaching a hand down to pull Peter up. Grasping the hand as he grunts, lifting himself onto the top of the building, Peter looks around.
“Huh. Your friend works for Octavius Industries?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing. It’s just that my best friend is Harry Osbron, so I’m not sure how things are going to go, considering Mr Osborn and Dr Octavius’s checkered past.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re past that now. I mean, sure, Doctor Octavius is… heated about their personal history, but as long as we don’t bring it up, it’ll be fine.”
“Right…” Peter responds, watching as Spider-Man grabs a backpack from inside a vent. Pulling out some clothes, he smells them, balking at the stench before pulling a can of air freshener out and dousing the clothes. Slowly, the man begins to pull out some more, smaller clothes as he tosses them to Peter.
“Sorry about the smell. The fumes in this place are unpredictable. Some weeks, Ganke and Doc’s experiments go really well; others, they create a nuclear cloud of ash and soot. Get changed.” Nodding his head towards a shed on the roof, Peter hurriedly runs into the shelter, pulling off the clothes, that he’s now realising are extremely warm and sweaty, as he pulls on the clothes.
A baggy, long-sleeved red shirt under a black t-shirt, some faded band that used to be on the front worn away, and a pair of way too baggy jeans. Peter grimaces at the aesthetic but doesn’t question it as he readjusts his glasses, pulling out the threads of webbing that attached them to his face.
Stepping out of the shed, he’s greeted by a young African-American man. A tattered hoodie and denim jacket slung over his large frame as he glances at Peter. Feeling the appraising look on the man's face, he watches as his face seems to make an ‘it’ll do’ motion, eyebrows raising as his eyes close and head rocks back and forth.
“Uh…”
“Miles. Miles Morales. Although, Shutterbug, you know me as Spider-Man,” the man says, shoving his hand in front of him. Grabbing the hand as he shakes it, Peter nods slowly, “Just a heads up, Pete. If the Doc’s in the house, don’t say anything about me being Spider-Man.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Good. Come on, let me introduce you to Gank.”
Watching as the man begins walking away, his hands tapping the sides of his legs rhythmically, Peter follows. His eyes track Miles's hands as he taps, wondering if it’s some kind of code before hearing the humming melody of the man as he pops open the rooftop door.
Sliding down the staircase, the duo arrive at a door. A sign with the plastered words and symbol of Octavius Industries sits in silver letters as Miles pushes it open, looking around the empty room. The space is filled with robotics equipment. Soldering irons, motherboards, 3D printers and more are stacked around the room in a neat and organised way.
“Ganke? You there?” Miles calls out, walking around the room as Peter follows like a helpless puppy. Would it be a puppy? Considering the pair are both spider-themed heroes. Well, maybe it’s a stretch for Peter to call himself a hero. Eyes focusing on what looks like a drone, Peter leans closer to the object, hand reaching out to touch it.
“I wouldn’t if I was you!” a voice yells, startling Peter as he turns to see a large Asian man, hair pulled back in a tight bun. His eyes are soft and kind as he looks between the object Peter is reaching for and Miles, “The things busted. It keeps shocking the Doc and me.”
“Ganke!”
“Heya, Miles. How’ve you been, bud? Did you get the issue sorted?”
“It’s fine, Gank. Peter, here is the reason why I need your help,” Miles says, looking around the room before leaning closer to the man, “He’s like me. Kinda.”
“Whoa, really? How can I help?”
“We just need to run some tests.”
“Miles?” another voice calls out. An older man with a cane asks as he starts walking towards him.
“Doc!”
“Come by later,” Ganke mumbles, his eyes looking at the middle-aged man who hobbles over.
“How can we help you?”
“Well, Peter here is a little bit of a science bug, and when he found out I knew you, he asked if he could come check some stuff out. Sorry about not calling ahead.”
“Ah, I see. So, he must be a patron of your store then.” Reaching out a hand, Doctor Octavius shakes Peter’s hand, “Doctor Octavius, biophysicist. Is there anything specific you’re looking to specialise in?”
“O-oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir! You’re incredible. Your studies on nuclear physics are awe-inspiring! I particularly liked the ones on the possible safe applications of gamma radiation.”
“Ah, yes. That was… a great theory of mine. It’s a shame I couldn’t secure funding to complete the array. Are you looking to enter nuclear physics then?”
“Oh, no,” Peter mumbles, scratching his head sheepishly, “I just study all the sciences for fun… I think if I’m going to focus on anything, it’ll be biology.”
“Ah, I see. I guess that means you’d like to see some of our experiments on mechanical limbs?”
Eyes widening, Peter nods, following the Doctor. A pair of arms lay out on a table, a remote controller lying next to them as Peter’s eyes flutter to the objects. Watching as the Doctor passes him the remote, he waits for an explanation.
“This is a test model for a set of mechanical arms. Ganke has been helping me work on a neural interface chip, programming and coding the equipment to work better. These arms are rather simple, though.”
Pressing on the controller, Peter watches as the arms begin moving and adjusting, his eyes looking over them as he drinks in the form, his mind whirring away as he mentally jots down some ideas. Biting his tongue as he watches the slow movements of the arms, he continues guiding them, trying to hold back what he’s thinking.
“What is it, Peter? Did you think of something?”
He hesitates, looking at the controller and the arms as he thinks about the best way to form the answer, “I was… thinking that maybe a combination of magnetic movement and hydraulic compression might make it move and react faster, similar to a spider’s anatomy.”
“I see… that makes a lot of sense. If I adjust the proportions to surround a compression system instead of the mechanical leverage of the pistons, it would let the arm respond quicker… I also could provide more versatile options like… Thank you, Peter. I have some wonderful new ideas for them now. Ganke, please give them something to drink before seeing them off.”
Walking away, Peter hears Doctor Octavius mumbling under his breath, his hand on his cane tapping against the octopus carved into the top as he sits at a desk. His hands fiddle with some computer parts and mechanical components, his mumbling increasing as the pieces slot together, a dull hum ringing through the room as he adds some kind of plastic to the device.
“Right, come on, Miles, Peter. We’ll go talk in my coding room. Is coffee alright for you both?”
Nodding as he follows the rotund man into a room, Peter looks around, seeing the organised room, various machines in differing states stacked or hung in their own individual cases. A large desk with an assortment of five monitors hangs in the corner, facing away from the door and windows tucked into a corner. Sitting down on the sofa, Peter watches as Miles whispers something to Ganke before the latter leaves the room and
Pulling out three mugs, all slightly chipped, the Korean-American exits the room, quickly returning with a half-full pot of dark brown liquid. Pouring the coffee into the chipped mugs, Ganke turns, passing the mug with the least chips to Peter.
“We don’t have any milk or sugar. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Peter responds, wrapping his hands around the lukewarm mug, the scent of the caffeine hitting his nose as he takes a sip. He watches as Miles does the same, leaning back against the window as his eyes droop and flicker between open and closed.
“So, I’ve got to ask,” Ganke begins, sitting on the office chair and spinning to face him, “What’s with the glasses? Actually, scratch that. Tell me all of the spider-powers you’ve developed, or at least noticed.”
Scratching his cheek, Peter looks over at Miles, hearing the faint sound of snoring as he gulps. His eyes dart back to the excited face of Ganke, taking a deep breath in, before he begins the explanation of his powers to the man in front of him.
“Wait, wait, wait. So, the glasses are to what? Dull the world down?”
“Yeah. My running hypothesis is that I gained the ability to see the UV spectrum of lights like some species of spiders.”
“And that looks like neon lights?”
“I… I think it’s more accurate to say that because I can see darker colours, lighter colours look even more vibrant.”
“Well, that's… unusual. I wonder why M didn’t get that… Any camouflage or venom blasts, or is it just the natural webs and UV?”
“No camo or venom,” Peter replies, thinking for a second, “Actually, I’ve also noticed that my mind seems to be… fragmented? That’s not the best way to put it. It’s like I’ve got-”
“Multiple brains? Huh. I wonder if the UV is part of that.”
“C-could it?”
“Maybe. I’d have to run some tests which… well, we’ll wait until Doc’s out and done with his experiment.”
“Okay…”
“Anything else?”
Peter pauses, his mind instantly remembering the liquid that came off his webs, “One more thing. My webs seem to leak some kind of liquid.”
“Oh, that’s a big thing. You know what it does?”
“No clue.”
“Well, I guess we’ll check it out… it might be you’re own type of venom. Some kind of natural toxin that you release through your webs.”
“Like an orb weaver.”
“Like an orb weaver,” the man parrots, looking at Miles as he sighs, “I’m gonna call Hailey to come pick him up. He was really pushing himself to stop Roxxon for the last… month? All I remember is that he hasn’t slept in a week. If you hadn’t been at the school… Well, thanks. Spider-Man’s alive because of you.”
“I…” Peter begins to say, feeling his cheeks flushing as he tries to burrow into the sofa from embarrassment. He sees the Asian man pull out his phone, his finger hitting some buttons as he sends a message. A short wait before the phone buzzes, and Peter watches as Ganke stands up, opening the window as he looks outside. His eyes widen as he hears the sound of someone climbing the fire escape, turning fully as he prepares to fight.
“Whoa! Chill. It’s just Hailey. Miles’ girlfriend. Although, I keep telling him to just marry her already. I mean, we’re 26, for crying out loud. She’s known he was Spider-Man and supported him from basically day one.”
“Ganke-”
“Right! Getting off topic. I do that sometimes, sorry. Anyway, relax. Hailey was already in the area, so it didn’t take long. Miles is going home now. I’ll stick with you, though- Oh, hey, Hailey. He’s just here,” Ganke says, signing the last part as a young woman, dressed in a mix of hipster and punk attire, vaults into the room. Peter frowns at the sight of her. Something in the back of his mind, like an itch, makes him confused.
“Hey, Ganke. Thank you for finding him. He wasn’t responding to my texts or calls,” the woman signs back, Peter’s eyes watching the ASL. Narrowing his eyes as he looks at the woman, his mind racing before it clicks into place.
“Hailey Cooper. The mural and artist from Harlem that’s been commissioned by the state?!”
“Oh, you know her?”
“I… I work for JJ.”
“Ohhhhhh… wait, you’re the Peter Parker that’s-... been taking photos of Miles?!” Ganke half shouts, his voice quieting as he realises the increased volume. Hailey looks between the pair, clearly trying to read their lips.
“Who is this?”
“Oh, this is Peter. He saved Miles. He’s… the same as him,” Ganke replies while signing.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Cooper. I’m a big fan of your work.”
Smiling as she watches the boy's hands move, Hailey nods, “Thank you for saving Miles. I’ll make sure he rests so he can train you properly. Also, just call me Hailey.”
“Oh, right.”
Peter smiles, watching as she pulls at Miles, trying to move him. Raising an eyebrow as Hailey looks at Ganke, the man walking over to help her, Peter tilts his head, the smile dropping from his face.
“Pete, any chance you can come pull Miles off the wall? I think he might have subconiously stuck himself in place.”
“That’s possible?!”
“You haven’t done that? Wait, that doesn’t matter, just come help.”
Doing as he’s told, Peter walks over to the older man, hand reaching for the gap between the wall and the man’s back. Yanking on the man's back with as much strength as he can muster, Peter hears him groan as a sudden pop rings out. The unconscious man falls and slumps against him, causing Peter to grunt as he tries to shift the man.
Moving to flank the man, Ganke and Hailey lift him from Peter, the latter slowly helping him out of the window. He watches the pair carry the man he now knows to be Spider-Man down the fire escape, questioning just how many times they’ve done this to be as efficient as they are. As the Asian man waves off the couple as they get into the back of a yellow taxi, Peter slips back onto the sofa. The thud of the door closing and the tread of the man returning up the metal floor to the room fills the silence that the whirlwind of friends left in its wake.
“So, Peter, I guess whilst we’re waiting for the lab to clear out so we can get to work, I should ask you some other questions.”
Tilting his head as he raises an eyebrow, the boy silently questions the man's intentions.
“Oh, come on. I mean your codename. You know, like Miles being ‘Spider-Man’. I also want to know how old you are, which borough you live in, where you go to school. That sort of stuff so that if there's a spider-emergency I can contact you.”
“Wait, what?”
“Well, I mean, I am Spider-Man’s guy in the chair,” Ganke huffs, patting his monitors as he looks at Peter, “Or did you think this was just for show?”
“I- that makes a lot of sense actually. I… I’m 15. I live in Queens and go to Midtown… went to Midtown? The place was pretty badly damaged,” Peter says, looking down as he twirls his thumbs, “And, um… I was going to use the name Arachkid.”
“Oh, nice name. A lot better than some of Miles' first names. The Webbed Terror, for instance,” Ganke mentions off-handidly as he clicks the name into the keyboard, the computer screens sputtering to life as he pulls up schematics.
“I… I can chang-”
“Pete, dude, you’ve got to realise that you can be more confident.”
“What?”
“You’re The Arachkid. Sure, right now, you might not feel like much, but you’ve saved Spider-Man, fought two supervillains, stopped an experimental energy source from detonating under a school, and you’re clearly intelligent enough to make Doc Ocatvius interested in you, and that's something that I’ve never seen before. You’re incredible… Maybe we should use that as your descriptor. The Incredible Arachkid .”
Peter blinks, his brain slowly registering the information as he listens to Ganke as he starts rambling, fingers gliding across his keyboard as he continues talking to the boy, not realizing the words are falling on deaf ears. His mind fumbles for an answer, still lost in the realization that he’s starting to become something more. The words of one person ring in his mind as he thinks. You have to be exceptional .
“No. From everything I’ve been told, I can’t be just Incredible. To be responsible and accountable, I have to be… Exceptional.”
“Ooooo, I like that! The Exceptional Arachkid , huh? I guess we’ll make you feel like that tomorrow. For now,” Ganke says, his fingers gliding on the keyboard as he changes the project title, “let's start by designing a Spider suit.”
“Wait. What?”
“I mean, Miles is great. He’s smart enough to make technology that he can use as Spider-Man, but me? I’m the one that makes them possible. Well, that and his Uncle Aaron, but we won’t get into that right now.”
“So… where do we start?”
Smirking, Ganke pulls up a model of a human body, “Colours, or mask?”