In a Sky Full of Grey

1. a covering for all or part of the face, worn as a disguise, or to amuse or terrify other people.

verb

1. conceal (something) from view. 

Mid 16th century: from French masque, from Italian maschera, mascara, probably from medieval Latin masca ‘witch, specter’, but influenced by Arabic masḵara ‘buffoon’.

She closed the book.

That’s enough Webster for the day.

***

Apparently, the Avengers were back together. Or, getting back together is the better word for it. Tony Stark said something public about the whole affair on the news at one point, but who has the time to watch every broadcast?

Ned sure didn’t. He was too busy... well, he was too busy busying himself. Halloween was right around the corner (technically, Halloween had reached the corner) and his Plan was set. He’d been debating on it for a while, but this time he was going to see it through.

Prior preparation prevents poor performance, as they say. And, needless to say, Ned came prepared with a foolproof plan for Trick-Or-Treating (No, it’s not childish. Candy hunting is a sport to be enjoyed by all ages). 

Maybe it was last minute to ask Betty out the day of, but what could go wrong? His Plan was MJ approved, and that’s all the verification things need nowadays. 

The overview of The Plan was:

1. Ask Betty to go out with him.

2. She says yes.

Theoretically, if he follows it exactly, nothing can go wrong.

MJ mentioned needing Betty to be aware of the The Plan too, but that would come later. As in, he would clue her in when The Plan was in action.

But anyway, the Avengers were back!

The news wasn’t particularly new. Rumors spread fast about spotting the likes of Steve Rogers and Stephen Strange around the Compound in Manhattan. And after the big broadcasted breakup, one could only assume the Accords were being amended in some way.

That, or they were finally fighting to the death.

But the former seemed less exciting, and therefore more likely.

The publicity was... odd. Tony Stark himself hadn’t been seen out in a while. Photos were “leaked” of Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan, but the man himself disappeared behind the walls of his company.

Speaking of which, Stark Industries had never been more active... financially. Suddenly, the philanthropist inside of Stark bloomed more fervidly than in any recent years.

Charities benefitting poor and low-income families were having a ball with the sudden surplus of money. 

Especially in Queens, for no explicitly stated reason.

One could only assume...

But now it’s confirmed, at least. Stark had been busy mending bonds with former (now current) Avengers, and the world could feel a little safer.

Onto more important matters: Betty.

***

Tony’s eyes wandered the conference table. Everything felt blissfully bittersweet. But with Pepper by his side, he could do this.

Anyone could do anything with that women involved. She dealt with every problem with an iron fist, and few, not even Tony, could stop her when she’s determined.

For a 8-foot round table, it wasn’t nearly big enough for the paperwork of a nonprofit organization, which apparently involved the government and state a lot more than Tony anticipated.

The Parker Fountain.

The idea made him smile. May and Peter Parker being remembered in their best light. The one that showed their true, not blue and red, colours. 

Something that stuck up for the little guy in more ways than one.

And, though it was still in early developments, it made Tony feel excited. Excited for the future. It was a feeling he didn’t know he was missing.

”Did you send the memo to Deborah Stokes? She mentioned a charity called the Empowerment Plan and I wanted to hear about it a little more.”

Tony nodded. “She said she’ll have her people call ours, in a non-bullshit way. I guess people only care to listen when I’m the one reaching out.”

“I’m sure she found your reason compelling.”

”No, my personality is definitely what’s going to seal the deal.”

“Whatever you say,” she began.

“Do you think you’ll be able to talk about it?”

”About what?”

”Peter. In less than a year, reporters and fans are going to want to know all about who Peter and May Parker were, besides the obvious.” Tony let the words sink in. He knew the answer, but putting it into a sentence proved to be a challenge.

”When the time comes, I’ll be ready. I’m... I won’t be for a while. But something in me will get it done somehow.”

The knocking of the door dragged her attention away for a moment. Tony rearranged a few files.

Pepper answered the door to none other than Sam Wilson. They shared a few words that consequently sent Pepper out door and down the hall. But Tony didn’t pay any mind to that.

Sam approached him and stood at his level, as an equal. Sam’s presence didn’t annoy Tony as much as he originally thought it would. Bucky was the only person he couldn’t look at directly in the eye, yet.

”Where did Pep go?”

“Someone had a package for Stark to be signed off on.”

”Ah.” They sat in silence. Sam knew roughly what Tony was doing. But his overall lack of knowledge led him to ask: “How’s the charity coming along?”

”It’s legally called a nonprofit organization, not that anyone’s correcting you, but it’s coming along. It’ll be entirely finished and glossed over by August of next year, hopefully.”

”That seems like a long time.”

”It won’t feel like it. When the bun’s in the oven it doesn’t take long to boil, or however that saying’s supposed to go.”

“Would now be a good time to mention that buns don’t boil?”

”I’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

”I’m sure you will. God forbid Tony Stark misspeaks.” Tony sighed in what could almost be considered a light laugh. 

Sam wanted to ask about Peter. It seemed like everyone at the Compound who didn’t know the kid wanted to ask about him, but were too afraid to. The moment at hand seemed to joyous to bring up the elephant in the room that took the form of a dead kid.

All Sam (or anyone for that matter) knew was: Peter Parker was Spider-Man. Tony had somehow taken both professional and personal interests in the boy. His aunt was everything anyone would ever need. They died in a fire. They died too young.

They all made inferences that the kid had friends and other mourning loved ones, but no one ever talked about it. It was a lingering thought that would lay waste to Tony’s grieving.

Pepper returned to their silence.

She held a brown box with a shipping address duct-taped to the top. It appeared incredibly informal, especially since it’s residing spot was in the Avenger’s Compound.

Sam did the honors of ripping open the package. It felt like a Dad Joke, because opening it only led to: the removal of a surplus of packing peanuts and the opening of another box. The final one was about the size of a bar of soap.

Sam gently cut the tape with a small army knife that conveniently sat in his pocket (why he didn’t use it from the start was unknown). Tony stared at the junk in the box.

Or, more specifically, Tony stared at the crumpled shell of what, he assumes, was once a phone.

***

The art of Trick-or-Treating can only be done by experts of Time. One might say that at a certain age, the sport is no longer “cool” or “accepted.” Well, when has the fearless protagonist in any story ever tried to follow society’s regulations?

Long story short, Betty said yes. Though the intention was to say: “Betty, wanna come to my house for Halloween?” it ended up: “Betty... I have a house and an old, well not super old, costume. And we could, y’know, be one. Or, go as one. A pair! Go together... no... yeah! We could go together as a pair.”

That seemed to translate well.

Ned stared at his phone. He’d texted MJ an invite, but she must not have her phone on.

Or she’s ignoring him. For MJ, it could honestly go either way.

Ned sported a cowboy-esque costume. He felt like nailing the “Lone Ranger” style for no other reason than metaphorically playing hard to get with Betty. (Partner costumes like Hans Solo and Luke felt oddly strange).

Betty wounded up arriving at the same time MJ responded. 

i don’t rlly want to do anything tonight. sorry. have fun!

Ned sighed, but swallowed his disappointment to greet Betty.

She. Looked. Radiant. She wore a white dress with what looked to be homemade feathered wings. A halo made of various shaded yellow pipe-cleaners rested on her golden curls. Curls! I don’t think she’s ever curled her hair!

And whatever perfume she was wearing worked wonders on ensnaring Ned’s senses. He could breathe it every day if he had the choice.

”Hey, Ned!”

”Betty... wow. You look... uh... wow. Stun- daz-... uh-“

”Yeah, thanks! And you look... yeah! You look... nice, handsome too. I like the hat.” She quickly pointed at his head before fiddling with her fingers again. 

“No problem and thank you. Do you wanna...” He gestured outside to the street. She glanced behind herself before nodding eagerly. 

She held out her hand for him to take. He did. Her palm was slightly sweaty but he didn’t care to notice. He led her outside and they walked along the side of the street. They were so well disguised with the many costumes around them, that no one noticed they didn’t go to any houses for candy. They just talked.

Betty was a generally stressed person. She began talking about school and how much her future is riding on every little decision she makes in high school. She would squeeze his hand a little harder when she started to get anxious. He gently squeezed back.

Somehow, her worries and rants to confide in him made him feel at peace. She needed someone to support her and he was there, as he always has been.

He was The Guy in the Chair in more ways than one.

Even when she scratched her running nose or rubbed her ashy elbow, she was beautiful. Everything about the day, the night, and her was beautiful. She was a his golden angel. And for once, he almost forgot about Pet-

“Excuse me.” He was brought out of his Betty-induced trance to a kid pulling the edge of his shirt. Ned almost didn’t hear him until the kid spoke again.

Ned looked down at the kid and could’ve fainted. Not because of the kid himself: it was what he was wearing.

A Spider-Man costume. 

It was something cheap that was most likely purchased online, but it was unmistakable.

Ned stopped and could only stare at the kid. Betty took notice of Ned’s panicked state and helped the kid herself. Then he was gone, as if it never happened. Betty took his hand again and moved him along the sidewalk, guiding him with an arm around his shoulder.

Laughter sprang from all around them. All he could hear was Peter. Ned took a moment to stop and observe the street, filled with kids and parents all traveling house to house.

It was not coincidence. It was no mistake. Practically every kid was showing their red and blue Spidey Spirit. 

Everyone had wanted to dress up as the late neighborhood hero.

Suddenly he wanted to throw up.

***

Work seemed to be harder when he kept crying and screaming. Blessing him with anesthesia didn’t seem to do them any good either.

The boy was simple to handle once the solution was within reach.

All they had to do was find a different angle. 

So, they put a makeshift mask between his mind and his eyes. Hopefully now, his grievances were dulled enough to keep him quiet and mindful.

It worked like a charm.