Are We Done Here?

Peter Parker did not have plot armor.

This was a detriment for two reasons. The first being that jumping off of buildings wasn’t safe enough to be reasonable despite his powers practically allowing flight in the city. The second was that no one was around to save him as he bled out in an abandoned alleyway in Queens, a bullet lodged into his abdomen.

Peter groaned and picked himself up off the floor, his body protesting as shocks of pain flowed through him.

“Shit!” He cried out, his limbs giving out and sending him back to the cold alley floor.

Leaning against the brick wall of the alley, Peter Parker was fairly sure that was where he would die. He hoped the police wouldn’t give Aunt May too much shit when they found his body in the morning. The authorities didn’t take kindly to unregistered heroes or their families.

He thought about it for a moment, looking down at his bloody homemade suit.

Well… they didn’t have to find out he was Spiderman.

Acting as quick as he could, Peter unzipped his recognizable red jacket, soaked with blood, and threw it to the side. He threw his mask in the same direction and watched them land behind a dumpster. The dark city was a lot colder with just a blood stained t-shirt and similarly stained  pants, but he was going to die anyway so what did a little chill matter. May didn’t need more trouble in her life. She’d already been through too much.

Peter curled into himself and waited.

He took shaking breaths and closed his eyes and waited for himself to slip. He replayed the sound of the gunshot and he replayed the feeling of his web slipping as he fell to the ground. It was only when he started thinking of May and Ned that the tears started to flow.

He shouldn’t have engaged when he knew those criminals had guns. But he couldn’t help himself. They were harassing someone and he’d helped that someone get away. Of course, now he was paying with his own life…

Footsteps drifted from the street beside him.

Peter listened carefully, preparing himself to hide. Couldn’t Spiderman just die in peace?

“Really, Forehead? It’s a bit too late for ‘sorry’, you’ve already made me drag my ass out to Queens.”

There was a pause and the footsteps stopped. Peter couldn’t move to see who it was, so he stayed motionless and quiet.

“Yeah, but why’d they wanna meet in Queens,” the man sounded disgusted. “I hate this part of the city…”

Another pause.

“Yeah, yeah I’m on my way back to the tower. FRIDAY, route me back, would you?”

The footsteps resumed and they were moving away from him. Peter almost let them walk off. He almost allowed himself to seal his fate and let his blood seep further into the cracks of the concrete. But he thought of May leaving him a note on the kitchen counter before she went to work the next day. He thought about Ned waiting patiently for him in first period. He thought about their smiles and their hugs and the dozens of times they’d seen him at his weakest and helped him through it.

And he decided to scream.

“Help!” Peter yelled, his voice weak and hoarse. “Please!”

The footsteps stopped and for a pause Peter thought the guy would just keep walking.

“Hang on, Happy, I’ll call you back” the man said.

The footsteps turned around and began walking back towards the alleyway. Peter let out a quiet sob of relief.

“Holy shit–”

Peter forced his gaze up at the man who stood at the entrance of the alley, his figure shadowy and blurry against the streetlights behind him.

“Kid? Kid, stay with me,” the man snapped his fingers in front of Peter’s face and knelt down beside him. “Lay down for me, okay?”

Peter groaned as the man helped him sink fully onto the alley floor. He cringed as he felt the blood from the ground pool onto the back of his neck and hair. The man put a briefcase down beside him and opened it up. It was too dark for Peter to make out what the man was doing.

“What happened, kid? Were you stabbed?”

Peter thought for a moment. Had he been stabbed? No, no there had been a gunshot. He’d fallen from a few stories up.

“Shot–?” he admitted like it was a question.

“Jesus Christ, okay,” the man exhaled. “Hold still. This is gonna hurt like hell.”

Peter inhaled and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure the pain could get any worse, but it was good to be prepared. Cold hands moved Peter’s bloodied shirt away from his abdomen and a bright flashlight turned on. Peter opened his eyes again to get a better look at the man. 

He looked eerily familiar. Someone he’d never quite met but someone he’d certainly seen. Peter couldn’t place his face. He looked just like any other guy with dark brown hair, a fancy suit. And scruffy facial hair. There were a lot of basic rich guys in Queens.

Peter didn’t have long to think about it because– god dammit –the guy wasn’t joking about the pain.

There was something cold and harsh being poured onto his skin. It felt like lava was being poured into his abdomen, sizzling away at his already destroyed tissue and skin. He held back a scream as the pain rushed to his head, making him more lightheaded despite him lying down.

“Okay, kid, you’re lucky. That bullet didn’t hit anything important,” the man explained over the throbbing pain in Peter’s ears.

“But–” Peter started, sucking in a breath. “You’ll get it… get it out right? I won’t–” he hissed as air grazed his fiery skin “-I won’t die?”

“You’re not dying,” the man confirmed. “But I’m not risking taking that thing out of you here.”

“What?!” Petter spluttered.

“It’ll bleed more if I take it out and you’ve lost too much blood for that to be safe,” the man explained, once again knelt over his briefcase as he noisily assembled something. “So suck it up.”

“I can’t have a bullet in me!” Peter protested, coughing as soon as he raised his voice.

“Well, you’re in no state to argue. Hold still and stay quiet.”

Peter groaned but the man ignored him, pulling a metal object out of his briefcase. Despite the dark and his spotty vision, Peter could recognize that piece of tech anywhere. It was Iron Man’s gauntlet. Iron Man’s gauntlet.

“What the–!” Peter started to speak. The man shushed him and put an arm on his chest to keep him from squirming around.

“Stay quiet, kid. This’ll feel weird.”

There was a bright light from the gauntlet and Peter let out the scream he’d been holding. It wasn’t that it hurt, but Peter had a splitting headache and the adrenaline of death in him and a bright light that felt like it was numbing his entire body wasn’t helping.

Peter was on the verge of fainting when the light abruptly stopped and the man fell backwards, sucking in a deep breath.

“Shit, kid. How’d you manage that one?” The man sighed, rubbing his eyes as Peter stared up at the night sky trying to catch his breath.

“You’re Iron Man,” Peter exhaled, the idea dawning on him. “Oh my god! You’re Iron Man!!” He shouted again, manic. “Tony Stark just saved my life…”

Tony Stark sighed. “I’m not a monster. I can’t leave random kids when they’re bleeding out.”

“Oh my god– this is horrible.”

“Being alive? Kid, you alright?”

“No! No– I mean, you’re my hero! And the first time we meet is when I’m dying!!” Peter panicked, pulling himself up to lean against the alley wall. There was still blood all over him, some of it coating Tony Stark’s hands.

“Well, you’re not really dying anymore.”

“Still!”

Tony Stark raised an eyebrow and looked Peter over. There was a brief pause while Peter continued trying to catch his breath.

“All right, bullet boy. Your wound is closed and your vitals are stable enough. But, a hospital visit is on the table.”

“Hospital visit? No no no, I can’t do that. My aunt will kill me.”

“Alright, going for option two then. You’re going to explain to me what happened and I’ll make sure you’re not in any serious danger.”

“...and then?”

“And then I send you to the hospital or I send you home.”

“I’ll take option two… sir,” he added hastily.

Tony Stark huffed a laugh and stood up, motioning for Peter to do the same.

That’s where it got risky. Peter used the wall to steady himself as he stood, his legs shaking beneath him. Once he was there, he still had to lean on the bricks to remain upright. His vision was going in and out and everything was sore. Tomorrow was going to suck whether or not he was in the hospital, he resolved.

“FRIDAY, gimme a health scan on…” Tony Stark waited.

“Peter–” he stuttered. “My name’s Peter Parker, sir.”

“Gimme a health scan on Pete The Cat here.”

An A.I. female voice began to speak. She rattled off various numbers about blood loss and bruising. Turns out, Peter didn’t have any internal bleeding but he did have a mild concussion from the fall.

“Okay,” Tony Stark started, packing up his Iron Man gauntlet and cracking his knuckles. “Good news, you’re gonna be fine. Bad news, everything’s gonna hurt like hell for a while.”

“What about the bullet?” He squeaked.

“Oh, right, the bullet. Hmmm,” he thought aloud. “Yeah, that’s a problem. It’s hospital time.”

“Wait wait wait no! Please, I don’t wanna die!”

“You’re not gonna—“ Tony Stark shook his head. “You’ll be fine. Come on.”

“No, you don’t get it! My aunt May will murder me if she finds out I got shot!”

“Well, how did you get shot?”

“It’s… embarrassing-?” Peter said, grasping desperately for a lie. He knew that Tony Stark had adamantly supported the superhero registration laws. The very laws Peter had been breaking when he’d been shot down.

Tony Stark rolled his eyes, adjusted his sleeves, and began to walk away. “C’mon. Hospital time.”

“Wait!” Peter shouted, immediately falling into a coughing fit. “I was testing out this… robot! That I made. For school. And then it started attacking someone and wouldn’t stop so they shot at it and shot at me and then I fell and–”

Peter wasn’t sure how deranged he sounded or where his fake story was coming from, but Tony Stark cut him off half way through his sentence.

“Okay, okay. You can stop there, kid. I’m still taking you to the hospital.”

His heart sank.

That was it. May was going to kill him. His idol had saved his life, and May was about to end it.

♫··♪··♫··♪··♫

As it turns out, Peter shouldn’t have been able to stand after losing that much blood let alone argue with Tony Stark about letting him skip out on a hospital visit– he was still reeling over that one. The only reason he’d stayed upright was the enhanced healing his powers gave him. And the only reason he hadn’t been arrested as soon as they took a blood sample was that his powers weren’t apparent in his system.

Peter wasn’t big on biology, but man was he thankful the hospital’s tech couldn’t rat him out.

He was under anesthesia for a while after arriving at the best hospital in the city. First, he was given a blood transfusion. Then, they’d taken the bullet out of his abdomen. By the time he opened his eyes and felt the pain of the world rush back to him, he’d been out for nearly eight hours. The sun had risen.

“You’re awake!”

Suddenly, May was at his side, flurrying around him as she rambled about how scared and relieved and angry she was.

“I’m fine, May! I swear I’m feeling good now–” Peter protested, though deep down he appreciated the concerned attention.

“You look like a zombie, Peter! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Well I–”

“I’m just so glad you’re okay…” she exhaled, closing her eyes and running a hand through his tangled hair. “Never pull anything like this again, do you understand?”

Peter sighed, dragging out his words dramatically. “Yes, Aunt May.”

“I mean it! If I catch you sneaking out again, it is over for you, young man.”

“I get it May,” he said, sincerely this time. “It won’t happen again. That bullet hurt too much…”

May glared at him and something told Peter this wasn’t the last he’d be hearing about a stricter curfew. She sighed and her expression softened. Peter wondered if she could see the turmoil on his face. How his thoughts were running a mile a minute.

“Speaking of the bullet,” May smiled, taking a seat on the edge of Peter’s hospital bed. “A certain multi-billionaire happened to be the one on the phone when the hospital called me. Care to explain that one?”

Her tone was lighthearted and almost teasing, but Peter tensed up at the memory. He was pretty sure he’d never live down the embarrassment of the entire situation.

Really, he knew it wasn’t uncommon for the superheroes to save average civilians, but Iron Man was rarely ever in Queens. He usually stayed close to home and was only called out for large, important missions. If the Iron Man was in Queens that night then Peter was lucky he hadn’t run into more trouble during his patrol.

“That was entirely not my fault.”

“The doctors told me he fixed up your wound.”

“He did do that…”

“And then took you to the hospital.”

“He also did that…”

“You know he also stuck around here until they were sure you were gonna live?”

“...what?”

May shrugged and offered him a knowing smile. “He said you mentioned building robots when–” she motioned to his bandages and IVs “-all this happened and felt like he should make sure the next generation sticks around.”

“Oh my god,” Peter exhaled. “I’m gonna die. I survived a bullet, but that is gonna kill me.”

May shoved his shoulder. “Stop being dramatic. You’re a good kid and I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it.”

“It’s not like I’ll ever see him again,” Peter continued rambling. “So I just have to, what? Live with that memory? Forever?!”

“Bragging rights for life, kiddo.”

“I’m too tired to process this, May! The Tony Stark saved my life.”

May stood up and grabbed his hand, giving it an assuring squeeze. “Get some rest, Peter. You’ll have plenty of time to fanboy when you’re healed and rested.”

Peter allowed his head to fall back against the uncomfortable pillows.

“Thanks, May.”

She gave him a warm smile and sat down on the chair beside his bed, waiting for him to drift off. Peter was comforted enough by her presence to allow himself to relax and fall asleep.

♫··♪··♫··♪··♫

“Tony Stark?! Like Iron Man, Tony Stark?!”

Ned was situated on Peter’s hospital bed, sitting criss cross with an array of sugary snacks spread between the two of them. It’d been a day or so since The-Shot-Around-Queens-Incident (as Ned so affectionately named it) and Peter was practically healed. Now, he was just bedridden for hospital protocol.

“The Tony Stark,” Peter confirmed, grabbing the cherry suckers from Ned as if he hadn’t seen food in days. He hadn’t, really. Hospital food was almost too disgusting to stomach. “I’m still reeling a little.”

“And he didn’t find out you’re–”

“Ned!” Peter shouted over him. “Not here!”

“Oh–” Ned stared at him, wide eyed. “My bad. But still!”

“He didn’t find out. I threw off most of my costume before he showed up because I didn’t want May…” he trailed off. “Anyways, he didn’t find out.”

“That’s a relief.”

“You’re telling me,” Peter nodded along.

“But dude,” Ned began, shifting so he was fully facing Peter. Ned was fully making his legs numb by sitting on them, but Peter didn’t mind. “You could’ve died…”

“Yeah,” Peter replied weakly, breaking eye contact to fiddle with the end of his IV. “Painfully aware of that one, Ned.”

“Sorry,” Ned cringed. “It just got me thinking, you know? This vigilante stuff is dangerous… not to mention illegal.”

“It’s not like I can stop! I’ve already helped so many people…”

“But–”

“No, Ned. I can’t stop. The guilt would eat me alive and you know that.”

Ned sighed. He knew that nothing he could say would get Peter to change his mind. The threat of death hadn’t kept him away in the past and it certainly wouldn’t now. Hell, the night Ned had found out about Spiderman had been the night Peter had first broken a rib from a nasty fall. Ned knew Peter was strong, but he also knew Peter was too ambitious for his own good.

“I just think there’s a better way,” Ned resolved.

“Like what?” Peter nearly laughed.

Ned thought for a moment.

“You’re good with tech, yeah? Made all your webs and stuff?”

“Yeah, why?”

Ned smiled and repositioned himself, finally freeing Peter’s legs. “What if I became your guy in the chair?” He proposed. “You could make some sort of communication device and I could keep track of news and radio stations around you. Be your eyes, you know?”

Peter considered it. Dozens of his encounters with armed criminals could’ve been avoided or planned for had he had access to a radio or news station while patrolling. It wasn’t foolproof by any means, but it would give him something other than running around the city blindly.

“That’s… not a bad plan,” Peter began, still lost in thought. “But it would mean you have to be awake while I’m patrolling. You know, the thing I only do late at night. Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“Dude, are you kidding? This is easily the coolest thing I could be doing with my free time.”

Peter frowned. “You’re sure? And you can change your mind whenever you want!”

Ned nodded in reassurance. “I’m sure, man. I’m beyond sure.”

They shook on it that night. From then on, Peter wouldn’t be alone when he patrolled. And there was something comforting in that. He knew that if he ever found himself in that alley again, he wouldn’t let a bullet take him down that easily. He wouldn’t have to rely on fate or insane odds to keep him alive.

It was a promise he made to Ned and May and, most importantly, himself.

♫··♪··♫··♪··♫

Operation Guy-In-The-Chair began as soon as Peter was out of the hospital. It was a mad dash for him and Ned to retrieve the rest of his suit from the alley, locate as much tech as they could to make a working communication system, and then assemble it all.

The assembly had always been Peter’s favorite.

It felt like a puzzle. He and Ned spent that week after The-Shot-Around-Queens-Incident hunkered in Peter’s room late into the night, fiddling with wires and buttons and whatever else they’d managed to find scattered around the city and left abandoned by kids at school. Their chemistry classes became free experimentation time to see what they could get away with without blowing everything up.

After two weeks of work, Peter finally felt confident that they’d gotten somewhere.

“Okay!” Peter exclaimed, jumping off his bed.

He handed a headset to Ned, fashioned from an old headset and microphone soldered together. It wasn’t pretty, loose wires and parts jutting out everywhere, but they had time to make it look condensed once it all worked.

“Try this out.”

Ned put the headset on and gave Peter a thumbs up. Peter slotted his earbud in, making sure everything was connected to his belt, and opened up his window, pulling up his hood and climbing out onto the roof.

Once he was situated on the top of his apartment complex, he sat and waited.

“Hello?” Ned’s voice crackled through his earbud.

“Yes!” Peter cheered, falling backwards onto the roof. His legs dangled off the side as he celebrated. “It works!”

“Really?! That’s so sick!”

Peter sighed happily and took in the night sky for a moment. His body was itching to get back into the city. He wanted to fly again. He wanted to feel the rush of air against his face and the spike of pride that came from helping people.

“Ned,” he said, sitting up. “What d’you say we test the range on this thing?”

“Well,” Ned drew the word out. “I do have to test the tracking device anyway.”

It only took Peter ten minutes to pull on his new and improved suit.

It was the same one he had before. But he’d gotten the bloodstains out and made more room for wearing shoes. Everything was more mobile inside the suit and there was extra room for the new headset and tracker technology.

Spiderman was ready. He pulled his red hood up over his mask and pulled his bedroom window open, giving Ned a final thumbs up before jumping out into the city.

Peter was back in the air again. 

He’d missed the wind and the piercing cold more than anything during the week or so Ned had managed to keep him grounded.

“Can you still hear me, Ned?” Peter shouted above the air rushing at his face.

“Dude! Codenames! But yeah.”

“Sorry, chair guy.”

“Hearing you loud and clear, Spiderman. You’re on 74th Avenue, close to that pizza place, right?”

Peter glanced at the street names as he whizzed past them. He saw the pizza shop, the lights still flickering despite it being closed. “Yep!”

“Perfect! Tracker is keeping up pretty well.”

“What do you say we see how far it goes?”

“Well, wait how far are you-”

Peter cut him off, perching on a building to catch his breath while he explained. “Just over to Manhattan. If this communicator still works over there, then we have a solid 50 mile range, right?”

Ned seemed to consider it for a moment. Peter heard typing and then a thoughtful hum. 

“Okay. Stay near Central Park just in case the signal cuts. I’ll keep you updated to make sure nothing big is coming your way.”

“You’re the best, Ned!” Peter shouted, already jumping away from the building and skyrocketing away.

“That’s Guy In The Chair to you!” 

The two laughed all the way to Manhattan. It only took Spiderman a few minutes to soar above the late night traffic of the city and cross over the East River into the city. The Brooklyn Bridge was too out of his way, so Spiderman swung across Roosevelt Island to reach the other side of the river without falling headfirst into it. He’d learned the hard way that the river was freezing at night after attempting to swing across the river in one go a while back. 

“Still got hold of me?” Peter asked once he was across the river.

“Hear you loud and clear, Spiderman. You’re on the edge of Manhattan.”

“Nice!” He pumped his fist in the air and continued on, taking a quick moment to admire the city from the ground before racing through it once again. “Anything I should watch out for?”

“Nothing big,” Ned started, deep in thought. “Few petty criminals… I’ll update as quickly as I can if there’s police around.”

“Thanks, man!”

Spiderman moved a bit faster, climbing over buildings to make his way to Central Park. He paused at every siren he heard, pressing himself against a wall to make sure no one would spot him. He refused to get caught right as his vigilantism was getting interesting.

“You’re all clear,” Ned’s voice rang in his ear as police sirens faded.

Spiderman smiled and webbed right into Central Park, finding himself a nice place to sit. A place hidden by the trees but still clear enough to see the sky. When he laid down, he could see the tips of the buildings and hear the city breathing around him.

“Guy In The Chair to Spiderman, you there?”

“I’m here,” Peter exhaled, catching his breath from flying through the city.

“Congrats, the range extends to Manhattan! I can hear you great!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Peter smiled to himself.

Peter allowed himself to sink into the dirt, the grass brushing his masked face as he allowed himself that moment of celebration. A celebration that he hadn’t died in an alleyway two weeks ago and a celebration that it finally felt like he was getting somewhere with the whole Spiderman thing. A celebration that he wasn’t just a stupid kid– he was a stupid kid who could, maybe, make a difference. That’s all that mattered to him as he caught his breath, lying in the dirt in Central Park with nothing but the city to light it up.

Of course, peace never lasted long for Peter Parker.

“Hey, man, hate to bring down the high but I just found something mildly concerning.”

“What is it?” Spiderman sat up and looked around, listening carefully for any movement.

“A Twitter video spotted Iron Man leaving Stark Tower about five minutes ago. It could just be a routine patrol, but he was heading straight for the Empire State Building which is–”

“Right in front of me…” Spiderman exhaled, standing up to fully see the skyscraper.

“Shit.”

Shit, indeed, Peter thought.

“Get out of there as quick as you can, okay? No shortcuts and especially no engaging with Iron Man if you see him. Get the fuck out of Manhattan!”

Peter didn’t have to be told twice.

He stayed close to the ground as he made his way out of Central Park, using the trees to keep his cover. There was a possibility he was being paranoid, that Iron Man was just out and about late on business, but Spiderman wasn’t about to risk fighting the guy.

Tony Stark was not a fan of illegal vigilantes, and he’d made that very clear over the past few years. Peter wasn’t about to mess with that.

“More posts are saying he’s still near the Empire State Building. Kinda lingering around it. I think you’re in the clear.”

Peter took a deep breath. 

“Thanks, man. I’ll see you in a few.”

Spiderman readied himself at the edge of Central Park, aiming for the shorter buildings surrounding to make a quick getaway.

However, as soon as Peter shot himself off the ground, the wind was knocked out of him and he was tackled to the ground, narrowly missing pedestrians and cars on the road.

“Shit!” Spiderman cursed, acting quickly and jumping backwards to perch on a street lamp.

“What happened?!” Ned yelled.

Peter blinked to steady his vision and saw Iron Man standing on the street below him. The hero’s eyes were directly trained on him. And, Peter wasn’t the best at reading metal facial expressions, but Iron Man did not look happy.

“Let’s get this over with, Spidey,” Iron Man said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Turn yourself in and we can call it an early night.”

Every muscle in Peter’s body stilled. “It’s Iron Man. He found me,” he whispered just loud enough for Ned to catch it. “I’m so fucked…”

“What was that?” Iron Man called from below him, his voice impatient and mocking. “You’re mumbling!”

“Peter Motherfucking Parker, you better run! Get out of there!! NOW!!”

“Yeah, okay, going,” Peter replied, voice ice strained.

He jumped off the street lamp and launched himself as high as possible, swinging in the opposite direction of the superhero with speed he hadn’t realized he possessed. Dodging pedestrians and buildings, he weaved through the city and tried to shake Iron Man off.

Jesus Christ, Peter thought. The same guy who saved his life was now going to kill him.

Iron Man stayed right on his tail no matter how many sharp turns Peter took to evade him. It was inevitable that the superhero got a hit on him. Peter was just upset he hadn’t made it a bit further before it happened.

A thruster shot directly into his left side sending him careening into a building mid-swing.

“C’mon, man! Give it up! You’re just causing a scene,” Iron Man taunted him, hovering a few yards in front of where Spiderman clung to the side of the building he’d crashed into.

“No can do! Sorry!” Peter yelled back, throwing himself off of the building to swing away.

Only, Iron Man intercepted him.

They slammed together in the air, the robotic suit gripping onto Spiderman despite his squirming. Iron Man kept going, flying both of them into the road. Peter could feel his ribs groaning in protest as he hit the ground.

“Are we done here?” Iron Man asked, easily holding Peter to the ground.

“Spiderman,” Ned’s voice leaked through his headset. “I have a plan. Stall for a sec while I explain.”

Peter exhaled, hoping Ned would take that as affirmative.

“Not even close,” Spiderman laughed, grunting and shooting a web at a nearby road sign. He pulled on it with all his strength, sending the metal sign careening towards them. At the last moment, Peter ducked his head so the sign slammed into Iron Man’s side.

Iron Man slid away from him, only surprised by the attack for half a second before he was pursuing the vigilante again.

Still, it gave Peter enough time to pick himself up while Ned frantically directed him.

“Okay, this plan isn’t foolproof so I’m trusting you to be smart about it.”

“Yeah, yeah I’ve got it! Hurry up please!” Peter said frantically as he danced around the intersection, dodging projectiles and punches from Iron Man.

“There’s a college campus down 95th Street. Someone on Instagram Live is throwing a massive party. If you get in there and get lost in the crowd, it’ll give you enough time to get a disguise!”

“Okay–” Peter said, voice cracking slightly as his assailant threw a brick his way, narrowly missing his head. “I can do that!”

“You’d better! I’m not bailing you out if you’re caught.”

“I appreciate the optimism!”

“Jesus Christ, you’re squirmy.” Before Peter had time to put their plan in action, Iron Man was right in front of him. Up close, the guy was a hell of a lot more intimidating. “C’mon, underoos, you’re gonna run out of those little webs eventually.”

“Leave me alone, man! I wasn’t even doing anything!” Peter argued, jumping away from Iron Man and landing on the road with an uncomfortable thud.

“It’s not about that.” Iron Man was right in front of him again. “It’s about you being an unregistered hero.”

“That shouldn’t mat–!” Before he could finish, Iron Man raised a hand and fired, sending Peter straight into a brick wall.

Sitting there in the rubble, his vision overwhelmed by black spots, Peter thought of a plan. Iron Man was toying with him at that point. And Peter planned on getting out of the city alive. 

So, he started talking.

“Are you trying to kill me!” Peter shouted, channeling the anger and pain boiling in his veins.

Iron Man deflated slightly. Not letting his guard down, but enough that Peter noticed.

“Seriously!” Peter panted. “Just get it over with if that’s what you’re doing! I don’t have a fancy suit to make all this hurt less.”

“Look, Spidey, I don’t want to hurt you–”

“But you are!” Peter took a step away from the wall, wobbling slightly. He held his hands out as if he were about to hug someone. “C’mon! Just finish me off. Knock me out or kill me or arrest me… I don’t really care.”

“Peter, what the everloving fuck are you–” Ned began rambling in his ear.

Iron Man stared blankly at him and Peter imagined Tony Stark’s eyes under the suit. He imagined the same look the man had given him when he was bleeding out in Queens.

Right when Iron Man began to let down his guard more, Spiderman smiled under his mask and took his shot. He jumped towards the superhero.

Iron Man retaliated immediately by raising his hand and firing another projectile right at Spiderman’s chest. But the vigilante was prepared this time. He shot a web at Iron Man’s leg, sending him to the floor when the thruster fired.

Peter was sent flying away, but the tension in his web before it snapped was enough to send the crash of Iron Man’s metal suit hitting the road ricocheting across Manhattan. Holy shit. He’d just thrown a superhero to the ground.

Spiderman laughed, adrenaline and relief pumping through his blood as he regained his balance in the air and swung away into the city towards 95th Street.

It only took a second or two for Iron Man to regain his bearings and pick himself up, but it was a valuable few seconds for Spiderman. He was a block ahead of the superhero by the time he spotted the loud party and swung into the center of it.

Peter finally allowed himself to breathe when he was crouched in an expensive house’s garage, listening to the house music blaring just a room away.

“Holy shit,” he exhaled, his lungs on fire and the rest of his body moments away from collapse.

“Holy shit!! Dude?! What the hell was that!”

“I don’t know!” Peter shouted, allowing the panic to fully set in. “I could’ve died… oh my god he could’ve killed me!”

“After he saved your life and everything,” Ned tsked.

“I need… I need to go home. That was a lot...”

“Oh shit right. Where did he hit you?”

Peter snorted, no amusement behind it. “Where didn’t he hit me?”

“Get home as quick as you can. The police and Iron Man are still lurking around outside, but if you don’t have your suit on you’ll look normal enough.”

“Yeah, gotcha. I’ll catch the subway.”

Finding a disguise and catching the subway was easier said than done as he crept around the house, milling through crowds and hoping they were drunk enough to not care about his vigilante costume. He avoided windows at all costs and found the nearest bedroom to steal clothing from.

Peter felt a bit bad rummaging through a random teenagers room, but the adrenaline from the dozen or so near death experiences he’d had that night overpowered his guilt. He ended up finding a plain black t-shirt and similar black sweatpants. The all black outfit wasn’t ideal if anyone questioned him, but the goal was that they wouldn’t notice a random teenage boy anyway.

“Guy In The Chair,” Peter whispered into his headset, stuffing his Spiderman costume into a bag. “Am I good to head home?”

“You’re… kind of clear? There are police everywhere in this neighborhood, but I don’t think they’ll stop you.”

“Okay… I can handle that. I’m gonna take this off now, just in case.”

“Got it. Be safe, okay?”

“I will. Promise.”

With that, he gently removed his earpiece and placed it in the drawstring bag along with his suit. He stared down at the bag and debated how safe it was to bring the suit with him.

Figuring it would only be a real problem if the authorities tried to search him, he covered up the suit as best he could with his earpiece and other random wires he hadn’t fully condensed. Peter fabricated a story that he was in the city that night for a school robotics event and carefully exited the house.

Ned hadn’t been lying about the police.

The streets around where he’d fought Iron Man were crawling with cop cars and officers speaking to witnesses. Peter couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he retraced his steps through the Upper East Side of Manhattan. He could see bits of rock and rubble in the streets and tried not to cringe at the few crashed cars in the road.

He was sure he was in the clear when the subway station back home was in sight.

“Young man! In the black there!”

Fuck.

Peter stilled and turned around, trying to keep a smile on his face.

“Yes, officer?” He asked, taking a step towards the officer that stopped him. He kept a smile plastered on his face and tried to pitch his voice up to sound a bit younger. 15 was young, but he wanted to rub it in a bit.

“Sorry, kid,” the officer said, seeming genuinely apologetic. “We’ve just gotta ask you a few questions about this evening.”

“Oh! That’s no problem, sir. Hit me,” Peter grinned, his stomach churning inside.

“Alright,” the officer smiled back, pulling out his notepad. “Did you witness the fight this evening between Iron Man and the vigilante known as Spiderman?”

“No, actually, I just heard about it from my friend a bit ago! I’ve been at a robotics meet since this afternoon,” Peter lied easily. He’d never been amazing at lying, but the near death experience meant he didn’t find the police officer as intimidating.

“Robotics,” the officer smiled. “Sounds fun.”

“It was!” Peter nodded along. “Ran late though. I’ve gotta make it back to Queens before midnight or my aunt will kill me,” he laughed.

“Okay, kid, I don’t see the need to keep you up later if you didn’t see anything. Get home safe, alright? Call us if you spot anything. Queens has been a bit of a hotspot for the guy we’re looking for.”

Peter’s blood ran cold. “Yes, sir!” 

The officer gave him a wave and Peter walked away, his entire body threatening to collapse in a puddle of nerves.

Luckily, he made it to the subway without falling apart.

He collapsed onto the nearly empty train, his body protesting his every breath.

Peter had always wanted to meet Iron Man, but coming out of it with broken ribs and bruises all over his body hadn’t been part of that plan. Getting shot also hadn’t been a great first meeting. Even with super healing, the next few days were going to suck for him. And at that moment, with a half an hour train ride ahead of him, Peter just wanted a hug. Maybe a shower as well, but mostly a hug.

May wouldn’t be awake to give him one when he got home. He tried to push away how close that brought him to breaking down. It had just been a long night.

Peter Parker just needed to rest.

And he did. 

After a long rant from Ned about how scarily cool the night had been, Peter managed to get some sleep. 

But he could never quite get comfortable knowing that the superheroes wanted him gone. And, judging by the fact that they sent Iron Man after him on a random weekday, they weren’t going to hold back next time they saw him.