Vexillum

A torn up, bleeding and shivering figure climbs its way onto the river bank. Spider-Man is drenched from head to toe in water from the freezing hudson river. 

In the past few years being active as Spider-Man, this is his fourth plunge in the famous river. In his personal opinion, once was more than enough. After that point it had meant that the vigilante had crashed in the Hudson river more times than Sully Sullenberger and let’s be honest; Peter Parker is not Sully Sullenberger.

And thus he sits there, cradling his head after falling head-first into the river from a drop even higher than he usually swings. The top half of his body feels painful and broken, the bottom half weak and useless after having to paddle himself up to the surface with great speed. 

He was battling a villain that called himself the Necrophage. A guy who for some reason is a big fan of the Vulture and themed his whole shtick after him. Down to the wings and Hudson droppings and all. 

Honestly, Peter was getting sick of this. 

The Vulture he knew in his first year of being a vigilante was dedicated and law breaking, somewhat dangerous but not like this. Not this wild mania to be seen as just as evil–if not more so– than the previous ‘edition’. A guy with nothing to achieve besides recognition and fame. 

Not to forget the insane tech and suit he has.

To be fair, Vulture had Alien tech weapons and infused the technology in his suit. This guy obviously doesn’t; Spider-Man has done a good job removing any left over extraterrestrial materials from the Avenger battle. That does not mean that this guy doesn’t have some extensive mechanisms attached to his outfit. Wings even bigger than his predecessor decorate the villains back. A mask covered the top half of his head made from material so dense, Peter couldn’t get a dent in it. 

Also, he just so happened to have Shurikens. You know, ninja stars. The guy had legit Shurikens made of hard steel that he was darting at Peter as they moved through the air. 

The throwing blades had sliced through the suit in multiple places, mostly his left arm which he used to block the offending objects from reaching his face. The last hit on that arm happened to slice through his web shooter mechanism, which is how he ended up where he is now. 

Cold, wet and in a suit that’s falling apart.

Peter’s dorm isn’t quite close to his current location. That’s usually what happens when you chase a villain through the air, you end up somewhere completely different from where you started. But now it also means that he has a long way left to go and although all cuts feel mostly superficial, the shivering is starting to affect him. It’s not a good prospect to have to walk all the way back home. Or arguably even less fun; enter public transport in this state. 

Web slinging is even more out of the question, the left mechanism completely cut through, and he isn’t so confident in his long distance one handed swinging abilities. 

That’s when he remembers the flags.

Truthfully, it’s more of a surprise that he forgot them. They’re everywhere.

His past few months have been adorned by brightly coloured flags billowing in the winds, creating a city wide bunting. 

It’s a beautiful sight that he and many other New Yorkers are unable to look away from. 

Just the other day a man even commented in a thick Asian accent how pretty it is after he caught Peter staring at a street of homes and stores where not a single building went without a flag. 

If only that man knew that to Peter it was much more than scenery, it’s one of the biggest parts of his life right now. His blessing. 

He needs a saving grace right now. With some extra awareness of how he lifts his feet and walks forward he makes his way to the more crowded streets around the Hudson River area that he has ended up in. 

The cold is slowly seeping into his body as he shuffles past different homes. Eyeing flags with a cocked head as if he’s reading titles in a bookstore. 

He's looking for the flag that can help him. At first he thought about the green ones, a safe house. But there’s no one after him at the moment, and he doesn’t feel bad enough to need to spend the night. No, what he needs is a patch up job and some supplies to get back home and into his own bed soon. 

In the extended clips about the ‘Helping Hand’ system different police officers announced different flag colours and their uses and rules. 

An officer named Betty Beatty explained the conditions for the Resource flag. A location where heroes can stop by if they’re in need of any resources like chemicals, technology, paperwork and even clothing. 

He heard from Daredevil a few days later that this flag was implemented on his and officer Betty’s recommendation because apparently her boyfriend makes Daredevil’s suits. 

But that’s just between them, so for everyone else they finally have a place to get civilian and superhero clothing, tears repaired and some wires restored. 

Which is exactly what he needs right now, someone who can fix up his suit, while he works on all its mechanisms. And finally he can do so as he spots the one colour he’s been looking for. One that signifies passion and love for the work they do.

At the very end of the street billows a pink flag, inviting him closer with every step he takes. 

*** 

Leaving all his usual reservation behind he quickly raps his knuckles against the door. After a moment of quiet some shuffling occurs behind the door before it hesitantly opens until the chain is straining in it’s locked position as an elderly woman peers through the gap she has created. 

Her eyebrows shoot up before slamming the door shut again. Peter stares at the closed door affronted for a second until he hears the locks being released and the door reopens. 

“Good evening dear, anything I can do for you?”

“Yes please, ma’am.” He answers kindly, “my suit is in need of some repairs; do you think you can fix those?”

“Not to worry child, come follow me!” She cheers and starts making her way through the hallway. 

“You’re in luck, I was just working on a project for my grandson, my sewing arm is all warmed up for you.” The woman says over her shoulders as she leads him with heavy but fast steps into the living room. 

Off to the side near the kitchen area stands a large table, half of it covered in scraps of fabric, scissors, needles and the like. 

The other part of the wooden table top contains different pliers and screws, some miscellaneous wires and a clock laying face down with its mechanism mostly pulled apart. 

Peter looks around and breathes it all in. A lovely home that shows the life of its elderly occupant. Pictures and paintings frame the walls. Two large recliner chairs sit opposite a small sofa around a wooden coffee table. It’s the embodiment of what he imagines his grandparents’ house would have looked like if he had ever met them. 

“What’s the matter with it? Can I take a look?” She asks, taking his attention back. 

“Of course!” He’s already elated that she thought to ask permission to look at his suit instead of going all Edna Mode on him.

Holding his arm up to her sight he reveals the slices and cuts made through the fabric. “There’s some tearing in the suit, mostly on my left arm. My web shooters are messed up too but I can fix those up myself if you have some spare parts?”

The woman observes silently for a moment, taking his arm and turning it this way and that before nodding her head twice. 

“Very clean, seems more than doable to clean this all up. Why don’t you go into the hallway, second door on the right. There should be a large mirror, that’s the door to the closet with extra clothes and towels. Grab whatever you need, darling.” 

Peter follows her instructions without complaint. As he finds the room he stumbles upon an atelier hidden inside the lovely home. Paints and brushes litter every surface and multiple easels take up the space, all filled with mostly finished drawings of unknown faces. 

Trying not to leave the generous home owner in wait for long he finds the closet, grabs a comfy pair of sweatpants and a grey hoodie before quickly drying the suit and hair with the towel and elegantly rushes back to the living room before handing his suit over. 

“Thank you, have a seat.” she says while doing so herself and starting to sort through a bucket of red spools and treats. “My husband is a bit of a handyman in process. Always had a passion for it but never the time to really do anything with it. Now that we’re retired he has decided to pick it up. Although he still is in the ‘figuring out how things work’ phase, he does have enough parts to share around. Take whatever you need to repair those instruments of yours.” 

“Not to pry but it looks like you’re quite handy yourself, ma’am.”

“None of that, call me Maria hun. And yes, I suppose so. It’s good to use your hands while you still can. Got arthritis in my hands and feet, not that I'm going to let that stop me. Gotta do what you find important.”

She smiles up at him while hand treading on of the tears on the upper arm of the suit, hands working flawlessly while not even paying attention. Peter grins back at her through the mask before going back to the wires in his shooters and grabbing some pliers that rest next to the disassembled clock. 

“And what you find important is art? Creativity? I must say it all looks amazing.” 

“I’d say it’s more of sharing something. My paintings, for example, they’re all of the important people around me. Friends, mostly family. Same goes for sewing. Used to repair the uniforms of the men in the military, that’s how I met my husband. Wasn’t long before I could make baby clothes for myself and my sisters. Now my grandkids receive little hand made presents.”

“That’s so lovely. I’m sure your grandson will love it.” he says brightly. Eyeing the garments Maria was working on before his arrival, it seems to be a tight–very tight– top and a black t-shirt with a Spider-Man symbol on it, making it hard to tear his eyes away from the fabric until the sweet grandma replies to him. 

“I hope so. If not, that’s alright too. I do hope to make something to make him feel comfortable. He recently came out to us as transgender. Honestly, I didn’t know too much about it, but he is a very smart child and great with words, always writing little stories when he was younger, so he explained very well to me who he really is.”

“It wasn’t difficult for you to come around to such a change. To such a new concept even?”  

“Not at all. My best friend is a lesbian so I learned very early on that people can be different things. Me being a confident woman loving my husband isn’t the only normal situation in the world. And my grandson always was a shy child, always hiding away and letting other people choose for him. Was about time he found himself. I’m just happy for my little Alexander. That’s why I’m making him some new clothes that he can be truly happy in. Had to do some research about binders though.” 

“No way! It’s a homemade binder? That’s insane!” Peter bursts out before quickly dialling back, “May I take a look at it?”

Maria gestures for him to go ahead while starting a new suture. Her hands are like magic, working methodically through the issues and it looks like she’s almost done already. 

With her permission Peter drops his web shooter project and takes a look at her craftsmanship. It’s sturdy with a slight stretch and feels not too rough. For an older woman who has never seen a binder before, it’s a great end result. It looks like she was already done and was only working on stitching the new owners name in the tag she added on with cleaning instructions, it currently reading ‘Alexanc’. 

At that moment the door opens and an equally old man shuffles into the home. 

As he looks up Peter expects to see shock or surprise but the man just smiles and walks further into the home before taking a seat in the right recliner. 

“Good evening, Mr. Spider-Man. Anything I can help with?”

“Not at the moment, sir, thank you. Unless you happen to have a soldering iron?”

“Lucky you, you can find one in the bottom drawer under the tv. If you could open a window before turning it on it would be appreciated.” 

Glancing at both people for permission he gets up and grabs the tool. After closing the drawer back up he doesn’t even get a chance to stand fully back up before the man speaks again. 

“Say, would you mind explaining how it works? I bought it for some circuit boards but I haven’t been able to figure it out yet.” 

And so Peter moves his project and a safety mat to the coffee table and walks the man, named Robert, through the steps as he works on his own shooters. 

Not realising how late it’s getting they end up moving the clock over as well and repairing it together while Peter explains the inner workings of the device. In the background, Maria silently grabs an extra few materials while watching them with soft eyes. 

When everything is said and done they input the correct time on the clock before mounting it on to the wall. In doing so they all simultaneously realise that it’s past all of their bed time already and Robert pats Peter goodbye before walking to the bedroom. 

“Thank you, it was nice to see my husband so caught up in a project with someone.” Maria beckens him over, holding his suit out to him. “Usually he just falls asleep or gets distracted and puts billiards on the tv. Now, what do you think?” 

He doesn’t need to inspect it closely to know that she did an amazing job. On first glance the previous cuts are even invisible. 

“It’s perfect!” 

“Well, change into it then. I have something else to show you.” 

Intrigued he makes his way back into the atelier, changing quickly and giving the painted portraits one more look with his newly informed perspective. They’re all stunning, not perfect but that’s what makes them human. He also spots Robert off to the wall with a wedding picture pinned underneath. He can only hope his future with someone looks like this too.

As he returns Maria is holding two odd scraps of fabric in her hands.

“Now, I took the liberty of adding something to your suit. It’s just a little magnet which it seems you can easily find and remove if you please, but they’ll hold these.” she says as she attaches the two pieces into his arms, just over the web shooter cables he has just put on. 

“They’re not fancy vibranium or anything, there’s an aluminium and brass metal mixture, to protect those important wires while staying flexible and working with your wrists movements. If it doesn’t work out, no harm no foul, but I thought it might be a useful addition.” 

And Peter, well Peter might just cry. 

These people gave up their evening for him to work on his scrappy self-made suit. And when she was finished she decided to work even more to help him out beyond what he thought he needed. It really makes him realise that heroes come in all shapes and sizes, and good deeds range from saving a life to spending some time on something. He glances back over to the clothes under the sewing machine and thinks, yes, this is something people need.

“They’re great. I’ll see if they work or if they need some tweaking, but I really appreciate it.” he mumbles, giving her a big hug as a way of thank you and goodbye. 

“By the way, I don’t want to over step or make you feel forced to do more, because what you’re already doing is amazing. I’m sure your grandson will be over the moon with his present. All some people need is to be heard and seen; accepted, but to help someone physically like this is huge for some people. 

It’s currently pride month and there’s this shelter that’s doing multiple projects for the LGBT+ community. For those who don’t have money to be themselves or people in unaccepting communities. Perhaps if you have the time and feel up to it, they’d love someone who can donate some transgender clothing.” 

“Mh,” she starts, sounding dubious but with a twinkle in her eyes and a small smile displayed on her face.

“I might just have to look into that, won’t I. For now, I wish you safe travels home and I am aware we’re not a yellow flag home, and we’re not cleared for gifting food but we do have some leftover cookies and a snack to keep your strength up and can never hurt after a long night.” 

Laughing he agrees and grabs a cookie from the small jar she offers him before making his way out of the home. Satisfied and with a happy, light feeling in his heart he safely swings home now that his suit and shooters are repaired. 

***

Two days later, a tweet on the FEAST twitter account appears inviting people over for clothing donations and an open invite for any transgender people to try on clothing made for who they are, with binders, chest pads and on site clothing alterations for anyone in need. 

Just minutes later the official Spider-Man account reposts the statement. 

By a great margin, the event is a success. And Peter Parker was happy to be there, walking around, handing out clothes with his aunt and seeing all those bright smiles and teary eyes on everyone’s faces. 

Especially those of a grandma and her grandson wearing a black Spider-Man shirt, working diligently behind the sewing machine.