Chapter 1
Peter was walking home from school, tired and not ready for patrol. He had a long day of relentless Flash bullying and his goons. They had started ganging up on him more often, which Ned always worried about. Peter convinced him that it was all right and he would deal with it. He was Spider-Man for god's sakes. He could handle a little teasing. But every now and again he deserved a bit of relaxation.
Well, maybe Peter did, but Spider-Man didn't have time to sleep. He felt worked to the bone constantly. With his schoolwork and saving the city, decathlon and the internship, all that stuff. Bones aching, Peter longed for the day he could drive himself to and from school. He wouldn't have to walk on the busy streets and ride the train every morning. But he and May together wouldn't be able to afford a car anytime soon, unless being a superhero had more benefits.
Before he could do anything, the spiderlings muscles tensed, he stopped walking, and he couldn't think anything besides DANGER. Peter's head snapped towards the building up the street seconds before debris was thrown out the window. The noise was deafening to normal ears, and Peter's enhanced made him bow over and hold his ears. Stop worrying about your hearing, people could be hurt!
Screams and the fire crackling through the air was the main source of input. Flames reached for as much oxygen as it could absorb and smoke infested the air. Peter had to get in there. Save some lives, Parker! Stop standing around!
He ducked into the alleyway and looked around to see if any eyes were on him. He clumsily undressed and pulled on the mask. He webbed his bag to the floor a few times- he couldn't forget what had happened that Tuesday a few weeks back. Climbing up onto the rooftop and then swinging off it, Peter rushed into the burning building. Smoke made it's way down his throat, forcing a cough up. He jumped to the second floor from a hole and heard cries for help. The entire four-or-so story structure seemed as if it'd collapse and cave in on itself at any moment.
"Karen, can you scan for the people?"
"My thermal scanners aren't working."
"Fuck!" Peter hissed, rushing into the flames. That's another for Karen's digital swear jar Tony implemented after he'd cursed when he cut his finger once. Tony apparently didn't like his interns/sons cursing.
Following the sounds of the cries, he saw a woman in office-attire. Well, burnt office attire. A man loitered on the ground, hopefully taking a peaceful, sweet nap. But they both knew he was hurt, but hopefully still breathing. "Spider-Man!" She wept. Wow, you really can't script these situations.
"Yeah, hello, um- is anyone else in here, do you know?" He lifted the man over his shoulder, who emitted a groan. That was a good sign, he was still alive. Peter hadn't failed. Yet.
Yet.
"I think so, the top floor, maybe? M-My neighbors are definitely home-"
"Well, we have to be fast then!" He wrapped an arm around her waist and looked for a window. One was nailed shut, but the hero managed to kick the glass out. He swung to the ground and set her down. He flipped the guy off his shoulder and onto his back on the green grass of Manhattan. "Stay somewhere where you won't get hit or block anyone's way, okay?" Peter immediately swung back into the burning building through one of the upper windows. "Is anyone in here?" He yelled.
"Back here!" A voice erupted. A weak one. They were hurt, or maybe inhaling all the same smoke Peter was. On that note, the vigilante was coughing more than often. He was drenched in sweat and felt like the fire could possibly melt through the suit. Had Tony planned for something like this? Maybe. Maybe not. He should, though. Peter's a very instinctive kid when he's "Spider-Manning it up". Tony's words.
Searching through the fire and debris was hard as hell. This wasn't a piece of cake, that's for sure. He saw the group, a man and a woman huddled in the corner. "Okay, I'll get you guys out." Peter had them hold onto his webbing as he gently let them down. He was hasty but slow. Slow is smooth and smooth is fast. He had heard that on some TV show as a kid. A TV show Uncle Ben liked and they'd fall asleep to. They'd eat ice cream after dinner and sneak into the living room when they assumed May wasn't looking when in reality she was leaning over the counter directly behind them watching the ABC show along the two boys.
The building was shaking and his sight was getting worse. They were cooperative and easy, but still obviously scared. He sighed once they had both made it safely on the ground and kept looking. "Hello?!" Peter yelled. "Is anybody in here?!" There was cracking above him and the floor or ceiling gave out. Peter couldn't tell. All the teen knew is that he was falling. For how long, he wasn't sure. It could possibly have been a few seconds or an hour.
Something had hit his back hard, and it knocked the wind out of him. He tried to lift the rubble off him, but it made the floor under him start to crack. Peter was gasping for breath. People could still be inside- he had to save them. He couldn't give up now. Smoke clouded his vision and he felt suffocated to the point he wasn't getting a single good breath in. He heard sobbing, and with the mask, he couldn't see who's. He was so disoriented, it was possible it could be coming from himself.
Peter was going to die. People could've died in that fire because of him. He had superpowers. Saving people was his job. He promised himself to his city and he failed. He failed he failed he failed.
Peter's strength had left him. Peter tried to roll over. He could at least be on his back, that might help. He pressed his foot against the rubble and tried his hardest to get it to move. He took a deep smoky breath and used the rest of his strength to get it off him. He rolled over, looking around for an escape. A window was above him. A window! Peter reached up for it, using the last of his strength to lift himself out of it. It took Peter a shockingly long amount of time. Super or not, a fire was dangerous.
Hitting his back against the metal, he groaned.
"Oh my god, he's still up there!" A woman screamed.
"Get the ladders!" The men shouted.
Peter's entire body hurt. He saw the guys get in the ladder-thingy and quickly sat up, glad he was wearing a mask to hide his pained expression. He got to his feet and waved, trying to put on his public "I'm a-okay" face. Peter launched out and webbed opposite the way he came, and went around the block. He dropped into the alley, looking around. He reached underneath the dumpster and grabbed his bag, tapping it with the antidote. He quickly changed, surprised at the burn marks. His skin was charred like the night of the plane crash, but he'd be alright. He shivered, not wanting to think of that night. It still freaked him out to this day. The walk home that night was awful. Some guy kept throwing comments at his outfit, saying he was too poor to buy actual Spider-Man merchandise. If that existed, that'd be so fucking cool.
Peter walked all the way home, coughing a few times but it was all right. He just needed to get it out of his system, and he did. The only thing that bothered the superhero was his back, but he just needed to lie down and he'd be pristine by morning. Hopefully. By the time he got home, he was feeling better. Just a little warm.
"May? I'm home!"
"Peter!" She yelled, running over and wrapping her arms around him tightly. "Oh my god, baby! You could have died! Why did you go in there?!"
"May, I've told you- it's the whole thing. When you have the powers I do, and you don't use them-"
"That doesn't mean it wasn't dangerous! Oh, my god, are you hurt? Where's the suit?" His aunt was cupping his face, searching for injuries.
"It's in my backpack, May, I'm okay. I promise."
"Oh, Peter, you scared me so bad." She hugged him, his hair on her shoulder. The news was on and quiet, and she just stood there for a moment hugging her nephew. Peter knew she'd worry like this, and he never wanted to be the reason why she did. After May took in a deep breath, she exhaled. "You stink."
Peter was sent to shower and he did. The ash flowed down the drain and he sighed, the hot water comforting and awful at the same time. Peter came out in his baggy pajamas and hugged his aunt. "It's still a school night." Peter groaned. He wanted nothing but to stay in bed. They ordered dinner and ate together. Thursdays were always pizza days unless they were stretched for rent. May made self-deprecating jokes about asking Tony for money, but the two knew neither would ever do that. They sat down and watch whatever reality show was on. Peter hated them, but May liked them so, therefore, they couldn't be that bad.
As Peter grabbed plates, he was launched into a coughing fit.
"You should stay home tomorrow, see how your lungs are." May set down the freshly arrived pizza box.
"I have a quiz. And homework."
"It's not that late, you can still get it done while we watch our show, right? Or are you going to go out and save some more lives?" May teased.
Peter scowled and grabbed his bag. They sat together and Peter worked, yawning every now and then.
Peter made a dent in his schoolwork load and put it in his bag. Everything due the next day was finished and ready, and as much as he wanted to finish the rest of it he was just so tired.. The spiderling's shoulders were tense and he just felt all around uncomfortable. Stressed, upset, and in general ready for sleep. After an episode and a half of some unintelligible show, Peter was against May's shoulder struggling to stay awake.
"Goodnight, Pete."
"G'nite, May."
Peter trudged to school. All morning he'd been avoiding the news. He didn't want to see himself being stupid or learn anything about the fire. He didn't even know if everyone got out safe. His enhanced anxiety wouldn't let him look at it. Walking into the main doors of the school, everyone was on their phones. Even though that wasn't completely out of the ordinary, as they were teenagers, it wasn't mindless scrolling. It was a determination to find something. Peter felt like every conversation was about the fire and how he failed. Zombie-walking to his locker, Peter opened it and shoved his books inside. He wanted to be invisible. In reality, he wanted nothing but for the floor to open up and swallow him whole and never spit him back out. He didn't know what to describe the feeling as- embarrassment, maybe?
"Peter!" Ned hissed and yanked on his sleeve. Peter winced. His ears hurt. He was sensorily overloaded, but just in a tired way. Like his ears kept hurting but he was too tired to really do anything but be uncomfortable. His sweatshirt felt so heavy and he could feel every thread on him. Every breath on his neck in the overpopulated halls. Grabbing his tearing notebook and shoving it in his third backpack this semester, Peter shut his locker.
"What?" Peter genuinely felt like shit.
"You look like shit." His friend retorted. Ned did look worried for Peter but masked it with the tease.
"Feel like it, too." The mumble left his lips and he felt like he was going to topple over. Peter was surprised he got any sleep.
"Come on, let's go somewhere quieter." Ned coaxed the boy out to the courtyard as the teen rubbed his temples with his forefingers. They sat on the benches as a few teens walked into the building. "So, what was that yesterday?"
"I don't know. I just saw the explosion and hurried in, I guess. I was walking home from school and... it happened."
"You looked hurt on the news."
"They got that on the news?"
"Yeah."
"Shit... there's this one blog that keeps bashing me for everything I do."
"Oh, Jay Jameson's? He's in my chem class, I think."
"Probably. I was searching and the house came down on top of me-" Peter put his hands together, top to bottom to show emphasis. "-and I couldn't get out."
"Did anyone, like... die?"
"That's the thing, I have no idea. I can't bear to read any of the sites, Ned. Because what if not everyone did?"
Ned was googling something on his phone and Peter fought the instinct to throw it out of his hand. He didn't want to know, but he didn't want to sit in anxiety about it. Tony was going to get mad at him. Or take away the suit. Oh, god, if Tony took away the suit. He should call Tony. "Oh, fuck, my phone's in my locker. I knew I was forgetting it." Ned didn't respond. He was reading and his face didn't give any indication of what he was learning. Peter got up. "I'm gonna go grab it." He waved a hand in front of his friend's face, snapping him out of his daze.
"Hm? Oh, yeah, okay." Ned nodded.
Navigating through the crowded halls, he got to his locker and searched for his phone. It was in the back of the top shelf, which he'd probably tossed it in there and forgotten or something. As he made sure he'd gotten everything for class, he shut his locker.
"Did you hear about the fire?" A girl asked nearby. Not to Peter, of course, but he could hear her. And his heart sunk to his feet as she spoke once more. "You know, the one where that one kid died?"
"Oh my god, really?" Her friend responded.
"Yeah, it was on the news and everything. It was some little boy, I think-"
Peter nearly dropped the phone in his hand. That couldn't be true. A different fire, right? It was New York, a crowded place. Coincidence. Please, let it be a coincidence. Peter shut his locker and dove through the crowd, getting bumped around and nearly losing his footing. He managed to get outside and went to where his best friend was sitting. "Ned, is it true? The kid?"
"Uh..." Ned looked up.
Peter grasped the seat before sitting on it, feeling like he was going to throw up or pass out or all of the above. "Let me see the article." He stuck out his shaking hands. Please don't let it be true. Nobody had ever died because of Peter. And he couldn't let that happen. That wasn't true, it couldn't be. The headline said it all.
Boy, 9, dead in Forest Hills, Queens in an apartment fire.
Peter read the words over and over and over. He couldn't read the rest. He shoved the phone into Ned's hands. The warning bell rang and the two stood. Peter would rather do anything than go into the classroom.
Slumping in the chair, Peter glanced at his phone. He had a wall of texts.
NEDDD
dude where are you
dude
is that you? on tv
of course it is nvm
peter
text me back or call me or SOMETHING
MICHELLE JONES
Be at decathlon practice tomorrow or else ill yell at ned or something
TONY STARK
Happy will be at school tomorrow after practice to pick you up.
Those were all from the night before and weren't that bad. The next one was what freaked Peter out.
TONY STARK
Parker, call me.