revealed
The Avengers set up a press conference for the next day, claiming that it was for an important announcement.
All day, Peter was nervous. He couldn’t help but think am I sure I want to do this? What if it goes badly? I can never undo something like this...
But he knew he had to go through with it.
And so, half an hour before, Peter put on his suit. He chose to wear the Iron Spider suit he’d worn on Titan, even though he still had the original suit from Berlin and the other suits Tony had made while Peter was in the soul world.
“So, let’s get this straight. ” Steve said, leaning on the wall outside of the room where the conference was to take place, in his full Captain America costume; he had sort of unofficially become the head of the Avengers since Iron Man’s death. “We’re all going to walk in,” he gestured to the group of people in front of him, which consisted of Thor, Wanda, Vision, Natasha, Bruce, Sam, Clint, Rhodey, and, of course, Peter, “were gonna say some stuff, tell them that Spider-Man is joining the Avengers officially, and then Peter’s gonna come up and answer some questions?”
“Let’s make it more dramatic than that,” Clint debated, turning to Peter. “You could drop in from the ceiling, do a couple of flips, pull off your mask and spin around, maybe?”
Peter looked at him skeptically. “Don’t the flips seem a little over-the-top?”
“Nothing is over-the-top,” Clint responded. “And if it is, you need to make the top higher.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Thor stated confusedly.
“Nothing he says makes sense.” Natasha shifted on her feet, glancing passively at the silver watch on her wrist. “I think it’s about time. Are you ready?”
Peter nodded. “Let’s do this.”
The Avengers walked into a room full of reporters and immediately the room lit up with camera lights and was filled with clicking sounds and lots of people talking over one another, clamoring to get a better view and shouting and hoping to be seen or heard. The team made their way to the center of the front of the room and faced their audience.
Steve Rogers, who had been previously volunteered as the leader of the press conference, stepped forward to the microphone.
“As you all know, we are here today to make a very important announcement regarding the Avengers team, which currently consists of all of the people you see before you. The masked superhero known as Spider-Man, who has fought many battles by our side and done his own in Queens, is officially joining our team.”
Steve gave Peter a subtle nod.
Peter looked out at the crowd of people in front of him, instantly overwhelmed. What would they think?
The flashing lights.
The sounds.
It was all too much.
No, Parker. Not now. Don’t have a panic attack right now.
And Peter swallowed back his fear and stepped forward, carefully leaning in to the mic.
“Hello everyone,” he began, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Why was he so nervous? He’d done stuff like this before, he’d given presentations. You’ve fought gods and titans, Peter, you can handle this, he told himself. He took a deep breath and began. “As you all know, I’ve kept my identity a secret for many years now, and today, that will finally change. As a superhero, my job is to protect the people, and the people have a right to know who I am.” Peter reached a hand behind his neck, grabbed the back of his mask where it connected to his suit, and pulled it off gracefully. Immediately, cameras snapped and people began to talk but as soon as Peter spoke into the microphone again, they all went silent.
“My name is Peter Parker, and I have been Spider-Man since I was fifteen years old.”
And then the commotion began.
Everyone was yelling, taking pictures, asking questions, trying to be heard, trying to be seen.
For years Peter had longed to say those words, wondered what were to happen if he did. And as he watched the room light up in excitement in front of him, he couldn’t help but wonder, now what?
He watched, overwhelmed, as photographers shoved each other out of the way to get a better angle, as reporters yelled over each other to get their questions heard by him.
“How did you get your powers?” A man with a gruff voice yelled from the crowd.
“I was bitten by a spider,” Peter answered warily. “The spider had been exposed to radioactivity of some sort and its proportional strength was transferred to me. I engineered the web shooters and fluid using pieces from an old computer I took apart and various chemicals.”
“How does it feel to be the youngest Avenger?” a woman shouted.
“Honestly, it’s great to be a part of such an amazing team. Everyone is really supportive. I’m really lucky to have such great friends.”
“Are you the mysterious recipient to whom Stark left half of his company?”
“Yes, I am,” Peter responded, and immediately a million more questions were being shouted at him.
“What was your relation to Tony Stark?”
“Uh, I’m not related to him,” Peter admitted. “He recruited me six years ago, gave me an upgraded suit and helped me in my journey to become who I am today. He was my mentor, and he was like a father to me.” Peter immediately regretted those words. What if Tony hadn’t felt the same way to him? Mr. Stark didn’t deserve to have some random kid saying that in front of hundreds of cameras and reporters.
“Why did you become a superhero? What was your motive?”
Peter’s mind suddenly flashed back to when he was fifteen years old, sitting on his bed, trying not to freak out that the Tony Stark was in his room and that somebody knew his identity. “I gotta know. What’s your motive? What gets you out of that twin bed in the morning?” Peter had hesitated, not wanting to tell a stranger his feelings of underlying guilt regarding his uncle’s untimely death. But Peter was different now. His time in the soul world had changed him. He was ready.
Peter cleared his throat. “After my parents died, I went to live with my aunt and uncle. Right after I got my powers, when I still didn’t know how to use them, my uncle was killed in front of me. I was fifteen at the time. And even though I know there was nothing I could have done, I still can’t help but feel responsible for his death. Now I know how to use my powers. And I know what it feels like to lose someone, and I don’t want other people to go through that.” He took a deep breath. “Because I have these abilities, I have a responsibility to help people, to use them to do good. Because now there is something I can do, and I have to do it.”
Peter fell onto the nearest sofa, one hand gripping his Spider-Man mask so tightly that his knuckles went white under the suit, the other hiding his face. He felt the couch gently sink next to him as Pepper Potts sat down cautiously.
“I don’t know why I said that,” Peter began. “About him being like a father to me? I didn’t have a right to-“
“That’s because he was,” Pepper said. Peter looked over at her, taking his face out of his hand. “What do you mean?”
“He told me that he thought of you like a son. He wouldn’t build a multi-million dollar suit for just anyone. And all those safety features? I mean, ‘baby monitor protocol’? You’re definitely his kid. He said so himself. That’s why he left you half of the company.”
Peter absentmindedly picked at the skin on his fingernails, avoiding eye contact. “I can’t stop feeling guilty,” he said cautiously. “I mean, you’re his wife. You have reason to mourn. But I don’t even have any relation to him, I’m just an intern.”
“Peter,” Pepper began, “when Tony came back from Titan, he was different. Broken. Watching you die, that changed him. No matter what you tell yourself, he cared about you. And for him, losing you was like watching his own child die in his arms. He grieved for you, and fought to get you back. You can grieve for him. And while you may not be able to get him back, you can fight in his memory. You’re an Avenger. You can avenge.”
Peter smiled, not even bothering to fight the tears that began dripping down his cheeks. He formed his right hand into the Spider-Man web-slinging sign and studied it. I love you. Spider-Man was about love. But he wasn’t the only one capable of it.
“FRIDAY, any news on the press conference?” Pepper asked finally. The screen in front of them lit up, showcasing dozens of articles illustrating Spider-Man’s press debut, online posts, blog articles, tweets, and reactions in just about every form imaginable.
“All of the responses are, in fact, positive,” the voice of FRIDAY responded, her metallic voice echoing throughout the room and in Peter’s head.
Positive.
People were pleased with him.
He’d made the right decision.
He swiped through the thousands of images and videos and recordings popping up on the screen. There were photographs of little kids in tiny Spider-Man costumes. First-hand accounts of people who had been positively affected by the masked man’s heroics. Interviews with authorities. Approval. Admiration. Aspiration. Inspiration.
Spider-Man had been there for the people when they needed him.
And now, they were there for him, too, when he needed them the most.