lost and found
Peter Parker was a nobody. Figuratively and literally.
At one point, he was a hero. Someone who helped old ladies cross the street and did backflips on top of high buildings because people asked him to. Someone who could stop a building from falling with pure motivation and who went to space to save the world.
Under that mask, he wasn’t a hero anymore. He was just Peter Parker. A nobody. Someone who doesn’t have a family to care for, just the people of New York that still thought he was a murder.
Nonetheless, he still fights, regardless of his internal and external conflicts. He may not have a social security number, but he can still save kittens from trees and fight evil villains that say that they’re the forthcoming of doom to mankind. He still does it. Maybe there’s no purpose behind it, no motive. But he still has to help.
So he does. Not as much anymore, due to the overwhelming amount of college courses he’s taking, along with his little bookstore job that barely pays his rent. He sells photography on the side to J. Jonah Jameson for some extra cash, too. Which seems awfully counterintuitive.
So, he manages. If that’s what that constitutes.
He thought that maybe he would stop being Spiderman after the whole spell escapade. And he really did think about it, but he realized that it’s the only bit of normalcy he has left from being Peter Parker. From completely being a nobody.
That’s where he was today. On top of some random building on the Upper East Side, looking for any hints of his latest villain, the Rhino.
To be honest, this was the most least intriguing villain that Peter has ever faced. It was just some Russian dude with an attitude problem and a really big suit of armor. But, he really didn’t have anything better to do. He needed to sell some kind of photography to Jameson anyways, and this was the way to do it.
As he was still peering out into the streets of New York, he heard the familiar crackle of a portal being opened behind him on top of the building. He had to sigh in response.
”Spiderman.” It was Strange. And it was also the fourth time this week he had tried to talk to Peter.
He didn’t so much as turn back to look. “You’re not the Rhino.”
Strange scoffed, stepping through the portal and closing it promptly.“ Sorry to disappoint.”
Peter turned, mask lenses focusing in on Strange in front of him, face ridden with an unreasonable amount of scorn. Peter rolled his eyes.
”Apology declined.” He said. “What do you want? Again.”
Strange chuckled. “We need to talk. Again.”
Peter hummed, nodding his head slightly. “Do we? Did you make an appointment? I’m a busy guy.”
“I don’t have time for your games, Spiderman.”
”And I never had time for yours, Strange.”
Suddenly, a loud cry shot through Peter’s ears as heavy hooves planted on the pavement of the streets below him. The Rhino had appeared, a young woman pleading in his grasp. Peter shot a glance back at Strange, who crossed his arms at the sound.
”Duty calls.” Peter said.
”I can wait.”
Peter shot a web onto a street light below him. “I prefer you to not, actually.”
He waved promptly, leaning over the roof and gliding down to the street below him, web still loosely attached to the street light as he slid through the street, facing the Rhino.
”Man, you really have been a pain in my ass recently, haven’t you?” Peter said. “Let her go.”
The villain laughed, his loud voice erupting through Peter’s eardrums. “Spiderman!” He said, his Russian accent dripping from his voice.
”Rhino!” The hero echoed with a tinge of sarcasm. “Do I need to tell you again?”
Rhino shook his head. “No, Spiderman.” He released the woman, who ran away screaming her head off. “I was waiting for you.”
Peter sighed as heaps of people began to crowd the streets, watching in awe as Spiderman was about to commence in a fight. He almost wanted to throw up.
”Okay, let’s get this over with.” Peter replied.
He shot a web onto a nearby building window and swung into the air swiftly, dipping back down and climbing onto the Rhino’s back with ease, wrapping his legs around his frame and attempting to bring him down easily.
Unfortunately, Rhino took that as an opportunity to grab Peter by the abdomen and throw him forcefully onto the ground with a laugh. Peter coughed, mumbling to himself about how rusty he’s let himself get, and brought himself back onto his feet.
“I can do this all day!” The Rhino spat, bending down on all fours to pounce onto him.
Peter groaned loudly. There was a sharp pain running down his spine, probably due to the multitude of cracked vertebrae he had just obtained.
“I think that phrase is trademarked.” Peter said, webbing a nearby sewer lip and smacking the Rhino with it before he had a chance to pounce. “Gotta be more original.”
The villain stumbled due to the whiplash, a piece of his suit crumbing to the ground in response. Peter took that as a sign to jump behind him, shooting a web that wrapped around Rhino in almost a chokehold. Rhino fell onto both of his knees, armored hands rising to try to release the pain from the chokehold.
Peter finally had him on the ground long enough to swing around him and web his arms and legs up so the NYPD could transport him back to the Raft. Once the Rhino was fully webbed and no longer a threat, Peter gave a thumbs up to the crowd and the swarm of police officers surrounding the scene and took off, swinging through the city fast enough to cause whiplash, and snapping a quick pic for Jameson.
He didn’t bother returning to the same rooftop that Strange was previously occupied. He didn’t feel the need to. It was the fourth time this week Strange had tried to talk to him, in some way or another. He didn’t know about what, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. So, he swung back to his apartment. Hopefully Strange would have the decency to not portal into his own home during non business hours.
Peter sighed, shrugging off his suit and mask and placing it next to the discarded coffee cup from the diner that MJ works at. He eyeballed it for a couple seconds before shaking his head, throwing his cracked phone onto the same table. He plopped down on his bed, tiredness taking over him. He was in bed a good ten whole minutes before his phone went off.
“We got a situation—“
The sound of police static filled the room, sending him the latest distress signal. It was weird. It never automatically sent him a signal whenever he wasn’t actively patrolling or on the app.
He didn’t move for a second. Maybe it was a glitch. It couldn’t be that important that the police couldn’t handle it alone.
”—West Harlem. We need reinforcements. Two trucks worth of Stark Technology—“
Peter groaned, but was still on his feet in an instant, grabbing his phone and analyzing the numerous signals coming through. He had never seen his phone do this, let alone the scanner app give him alerts like this. There were multiple distress signals coming from the same location, and it seemed to be serious.
He glanced at the suit disgraced on his desk, before abandoning his phone momentarily and throwing it on. His back still hurt from the right earlier, but people needed his help. He grabbed his phone swiftly and threw himself back into the streets of New York, making his way up Harlem.
He didn’t see any police cars heading towards the scene, and there weren’t any sounds of gunshots or active fire happening. Regardless, he kept swinging.
According to his app, the commotion was coming from in between a series of buildings occupying a small sector of Harlem. He thought that maybe police had calmed the situation down enough that all active fire had been handled, which would explain the lack of noise and lack of people fleeing.
Once he got to the location, he saw nothing. It was a small cornered in building which illuminated no light. There were no signs of a hijacking, or any police officers surrounding the area. Maybe he had gotten the location wrong, or maybe it had been a false alarm or—
“Hey kid.”
Peter’s blood ran cold.
The familiar voice rang in and out of his ear. It felt like static was engulfing the entirety of his brain. His hands and feet almost went numb, like he couldn’t even take a step forward or backwards.
He turned, eyeing the figure who had a hood draped over his face, leaning against a concrete wall of one of the dark buildings.
Peter stood there absentmindedly. Not knowing what his next move was. His sense wasn’t going off. He knew there was no danger. He realistically knew whose voice that was, who was standing before him. Who lured him here.
The person removed the hood from their head.
”Surprise.” It was Tony. Because of course it was Tony.
Peter felt like he was going to pass out. His entire chest was caving in. His breathing was coming out in uneven spurts, and he was pretty sure he was going to pass out on impact.
”Woah, woah.” Tony stepped forward, placing a hand on Peter’s back and steading him. “Sorry to freak you out, kiddo.”
The touch itself felt like he was being touched by pure electricity. He was definitely going to pass out.
Tears filled in Peter’s eyes. Maybe because all he felt was betrayal. Not from being lured here like a cat with a mouse toy, but Tony being alive. Him breathing better than Peter himself could at that moment and remembering him despite everything. Betrayal from Tony not coming forward sooner, maybe.
All Peter could do was stare at the man before him in awe.
“Should we sit down?” Tony said. “I mean it wouldn’t be comfortable, but I don’t think you’d last the ride to the lake house without blowing up.”
“And I don’t mean figuratively, Pete. You look like you’re two seconds from selectively imploding.”
Peter continued to stare as Tony held onto him as they took a seat on the cold pavement. Tony didn’t as much as utter a word at first.
“Okay, so explanation first?”
Peter sniffled slightly, furthering his gaze at his previous mentor like he was a capsule of glass waiting to break.
”Okay. Explanation first.” Tony decided.
He shifted slightly, moving his legs into a comfortable position as Peter stayed distinctly in his place, like he was frozen. “You gotta say something here, kid.”
”What do you want me to say?” Peter snapped back.
Tony nodded slightly. “Fair.” He sighed, rather loudly and with intent. He didn’t know where to start. Or how to start.
“I’m sorry.” Was all he could muster. Peter’s eyebrows scrunched in response.
”What?”
“I’m sorry, Peter.”
Peter’s face was almost entirely unreadable. He was processing the words. Analyzing them. “For what?” He questioned.
Tony could only scoff. “Everything, kid.” He threw his hands up in an exasperated manner. “I wish I would’ve been here for you. I’m not gonna sugarcoat it, either. I have no earthy idea what’s going on in your little world but I’ve heard enough through the grape vine—“
“—You couldn’t change anything that happened. It was my fault.” Peter shook his head. “Don’t take the blame for things that you didn’t do.”
At that moment they caught each others gaze at the same time. Tony saw just how tired Peter looked. He had aged. He wasn’t the fourteen year old he recruited to fight Captain America all of those years ago. He was Spiderman. Actually Spiderman. And the idea of that horrified him. Peter shuffled slightly under the pressure, tilting his head with confusion.
“How?” Peter’s voice cracked. His eyes searching for answers. “You’re here.” He chuckled, rather dryly. “God, you’re really here.”
It was more of a realization than it was an actual statement, Tony realized, as tears began to pour from every crevice of Peter’s eyes. He wiped them away as quickly as they came.
”Sorry. I just—“ He felt dizzy. “Wow.”
Tony smiled. “Glad that initial shock wore off, you had me worried.” He brought his hand towards the back of Peter’s head, steading it there as tears began to form in his own eyes. “It’s good to see you too, Pete.”
It was Peter’s turn to smile. The moment was bittersweet, despite the odd circumstances, and Tony wanted nothing more to relish in the simplicity of it all. But of course that couldn’t happen.
”I believe there was a how in that string of words.” Tony said, Peter nodding in suit. “That’s more of a question to ask you, I think.”
Peter titled his head slightly, pondering. His face scrunched in confusion as he realized. “That’s why Doctor Strange was trying to get ahold of me.” The realization was seeping through every part of his body. “I did this.”
He threw his hands up immediately, standing. “I did this, Tony. Holy shit.”
Tony took that as his sign to stand as well, grabbing ahold of Peter’s shoulders before he practically launched himself into another panic attack. “Woah, cowboy. Chill out.”
”Chill out?”
Okay, wrong thing to say.
”My dead mentor just rose from the dead, lured me here with a trap, and then proceeded to tell me that it’s all because of me?” Peter spat, raising his voice slightly. “And I’ve been blowing off Strange and—“
He pinched the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and his thumb. “Oh my God.”
”Okay, the Strange part was technically your fault. He is very persistent.” Tony slightly joked, which earned no reaction. “But I was alive. Technically speaking. Just in a coma, about to die. See?”
Tony slightly chuckled, throwing his hands up as if to present himself. “We’re all good. Not entirely your fault.”
Peter just groaned again. “Tony, oh my God.” He paced around the small space back and forth. “This is all of my fault.”
“Did you just ignore what I just said, like—“ He checked his imaginary watch. “Two seconds ago? Not entirely your fault.”
Peter just glared daggers back at him. “You don’t get to dictate what’s my fault and what isn’t. You don’t—“ He sighed. “You don’t even know what happened.” His voice cracked at the last syllable.
Tony hummed, lips tightening together in a thin line. “You’re right.” He nodded his head once, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “I don’t.”
“I really don’t.” He reinstated. He tapped on his loose arc reactor that was planted on his chest, hidden by his coat. “Could you tell me, Peter?” He asked, extending his arm as if he was offering it to the kid.
“Will you believe me?”
”I’ll believe anything you tell me, kid.”
Peter huffed loudly, head hanging, before allowing himself to take ahold of Tony’s arm before he shot them into the air above them, flying towards the lake house.
Peter Parker wasn’t a nobody anymore. Someone knew him.
It was all going to be okay.